How to Pack Up Your Life, Part 2
What saved me and what I plumb forgot.
Piano, piano. Things are slowly coming together, even if we’re surrounded by far more empty space than filled—which has a beauty of its own.
For those curious, I did want to recap a few things about our move while they’re still fresh. If Part 1 detailed more about my overall packing strategy, then consider Part 2 a look at what I actually packed. Also, what I wish I did.
*Not sponsored or affiliate-linked in any way. I cannot add that to my list of things to figure out at this moment, so please enjoy some good old-fashioned advice.
Getting There
We brought nine bags, one stroller, and one car seat on our flight. Sadly, we had to leave our travel crib behind at the last minute as they are no longer considered a free baby item.1 It was going to cost $285 to check as a third bag, so we opted to save that money and spend it on the airport lounge instead. Zero regrets.
For two of our other checked bags, I originally debated between investing in the Patagonia Black Hole 70L duffle ($$$) or the Samsonite 100L Tote-a-Ton ($). My goal was to use these for clothing and other soft items that were compression-packed into plastic bags, which proved a fortuitous strategy since I ended up going with the cheaper Samsonsite. One of them split along the seam during transport—not to the point where my clothes were littered across baggage claim, but if they had been, at least those compression bags would have kept everything contained. Lesson learned, you get what you pay for.
Also, miraculously, each of our bags were under the 50-lb weight limit. As Bluey would say, Hooray!2
Another win on our flight was this thing.
Anticipating what was going to be our third time flying internationally with our son, I was determined to make it the first where we actually got some sleep. I had seen knockoff versions of an airplane toddler bed on the Amazon, but I decided I wasn’t kidding around this time and so went for the real deal.
Let me tell you, A REVELATION.
My child slept five?, six! hours of the 8-hour flight, which meant I got two or three hours as well. Surprisingly, it was very easy to set up and folded compactly enough to be unquestionably worth the carry-on space. I’m not usually one for rave reviews, but consider this me raving. If you too have a toddler who refuses any form of sleep 30,000 feet in the air, then save yourself and get this contraption.
Small mercies, happy parents.
While on the subject of flights: I am admittedly not a good flier. Despite having traveled a lot, I’m never one who can look forward to a plane ride as a moment of relaxation. My brain is too aware of where I am and how unnatural it is to be flying through the air seated on an uncomfortable chair. So, I do everything I can to fake it.
Enter: my bag of tricks.
I’m always tinkering around with what I consider an in-flight essential. Aside from a first-class ticket3, I like to think I’ve gotten pretty close to my personal trifecta of hydration, protection, and anxiety-mitigation.
For long-hauls, blue-light blocking glasses with the red lenses are very helpful for stimulating natural melatonin production, coupled with taking melatonin (I prefer the plant-extracted version in this travel-friendly one) sipped 30-minutes into the flight. I also swear by the practice of coating your nasal passages in oil to prevent unwanted germs. You can soak Q-tips with sesame, olive, or castor oil and swirl in your nose (do not reuse it) periodically before and during the flight. I also recently found this pre-made concoction which made life much easier after getting rid of everything in my pantry. Bonus: It helps with the inevitable odors that waft over to you from God-knows where on the plane.
CBD headache oil for temple and neck tension.
First Aid Kit for any kind of anxiety, apprehension, stress, shock… I also always have the kids version on me. You can take this multiple times, as often as needed. If feeling feverish or like I’m coming down with something, a dose of ferrum phos can help reinforce the body’s vital force.
Face wipe + spritz of this + layer of this = ideal flight face pack. The wipe is convenient and rejuvenating for all the grime you feel while traveling. The spray is instantly hydrating, comes out gently, and scent-free. The serum actually feels more like a cream and is absorbed by your skin even better after the mist. I have very, very dry skin and was pleasantly surprised by this combo. Easy, yet effective.
Maybe you won’t land feeling like a million bucks, but with a semi-slept toddler and hydrated cheeks…you might feel like $75?
Being Here
Our flight and overall journey went well. So where did the other shoe drop, you may wonder? Well, with shoes indeed.
Moving as quickly and as relatively cheaply as we did, my original concern was about getting everything over here that we’d want long-term. I probably should have thought harder, and more practically, about what I’d need in the short-term. Like, walking shoes and socks.
Thanks to said compression bags, I was able to pack two fall coats, four pairs of boots, three pairs of flats, three pairs of sandals, and all of my heavy sweaters and dresses into one Samsonite tote. I would have been happier about that feat if we had moved in November—not in August.
Six, maybe seven, compression bags have yet to be unpacked. I’m sure I’ll be grateful for them in a few months, but when I think of how I left tennis shoes, slippers, and all but one pair of socks behind—because by the end of things, I had no space and tennis shoes are bulky!—I realize I was not thinking at all.
I’ve moved to a walking town and all I brought were flat sandals. On cobblestones. On terrazzo stone floors that hide a lot of dropped food, legos, and other remnants of a three-year-old’s more spirited moments. I love clean feet. I have high arches. I should have brought my slippers, and I should have brought a decent pair of walking shoes as I adjust to a car-less life. Lesson learned.
Other clothing-related woes: the month of August. Four tank tops are not nearly enough when you are changing your clothes twice a day and living senza air conditioning. I have two of these, and if I was thinking clearly, should have bought five more before leaving. They are a fuss-free length if you wear mostly high-waisted pants (like I do) and you also hate wearing a bra (like I do).4 Those, plus two skirts, two pairs of shorts, linen pants, and an old maternity dress that still sees the light of day are all I have been wearing. Despite never feeling like my clothes are clean, it’s been a nice reminder that you don’t need a million different pieces in your wardrobe, just a few hard-working ones that are weather-appropriate.
Which brings me to the other weather-appropriate thing I forgot: a raincoat.
Living in southern California for almost twenty years brainwashed me into never thinking about the weather. Living in Texas for the last two years brainwashed me into never leaving the house if there was any kind of weather. I didn’t think to buy a good raincoat before we left, which meant the next time I thought about buying one was when I was walking in the middle of a downpour completely drenched.
Something I am thankful to have brought: my wide-brimmed sun hat, even if I didn’t bring it on that rainy occasion. It does makes me look distinctly more LA than Bassanese, but I’m a girl who loves a hat with probably the palest skin in Italy. A leopard cannot change its spots. Only develop more freckles.
A few more things, before I’m off to buy socks…
Those towels: Yes. In the midst of what feels like money evaporating as we refurnish our entire life, saving on towels because I stuffed them in my bag was a huge win.
The mobile: Have not hung it yet. Didn’t think about 9-ft ceilings, but am thinking about inventive S-hook solutions.
The wooden fruit bowl: Use it every day and our produce looks great. Thanks for asking.
Crystal collection: As it was a literal box of rocks, I did not pack the whole thing, though at one point I tried. The few I did bring over and have scattered throughout our apartment bring me a comforting level of joy—and work well to prop up photos until I can find frames.
Red light therapy devices: We have an IR sauna blanket that made it over in the Samsonsite that didn’t split open. Have not used it yet due to feeling like I’m living in a perpetual sauna, but I have used my mini device in the spare free moments when I need to come back to myself.
Deodorant refills: A no-brainer. I also should have bought these in bulk and am rationing my last few.
Grounding sheet: Alas, would you believe I didn’t think to purchase the EU adapter before moving?! I need to save up some pennies before paying the $80 shipping for a $15 plug. Or, just start walking around barefoot—which may be a solve for my shoe situation.
At least on Delta airlines.
The patron saint of our move. God bless the Heeler family.
A joke. I do not fly first class regularly, though I would not turn it down.
While I was grateful I could do it, something happened to me after breastfeeding for almost 20 months: I remembered what it felt like to wear clothing without contraptions beneath your shirt.