It started, as these things often do, with a simple question at my mom group:
“You’re taking your baby where?”
My friend and fellow mom looked at me like I’d just confessed to booking a one-way flight to the moon with a toddler in tow. I’d mentioned that this November, I’m heading to Antarctica with my daughter Meredith, who will be 1.5 years old at the time of travel.
Not just any trip—but the final stop on a seven-continent journey that will make her (unofficially) the youngest person ever to visit all seven continents.
And yes, I’ve heard it all:
- “But she won’t remember.”
- “That’s too far.”
- “You’re doing this for the ‘gram, right?”
- “Are you… okay?”
I understand the skepticism. Most days, getting through Publix without a meltdown feels like a major achievement. So why am I boarding a Nat Geo Lindblad expedition to the bottom of the Earth with a toddler in tow?
Because this is exactly the kind of world I want to show her.
From Small-Town Roots to Global Curiosity
I grew up in Fenton, Michigan, a place where the world felt delightfully small. Our idea of international cuisine was Olive Garden. It was a joyful, grounded childhood—full of familiar faces and firm values. But I still remember my first international trip—the way it cracked open my understanding of what “normal” looked like.
Now raising my girls in Ocala, Florida, I feel the weight of wanting to pass along the most meaningful inheritance I can offer: perspective. Not just through stories or books, but through experience.
I want my daughters to understand that the world is vast, beautiful, complex—and theirs to explore.
“But She Won’t Remember”
This is the most common objection. “She’s too young. She won’t remember it.”
And they’re right. Meredith won’t remember the exact penguin colony we visit. She won’t recall the frigid air or the pale blue glow of an iceberg.
But here’s what she will remember—what psychologists call implicit memory:
- That the world is big and worth exploring.
- That unfamiliar isn’t scary.
- That her mother was brave—and believed she could be, too.
She may not remember the seventh continent, but it will be woven into her emotional architecture. And that matters deeply.
If Guinness still awarded records to children (they stopped in 2000), Meredith might receive a certificate declaring her the youngest to visit all seven continents. But I’m less interested in records and more invested in rooting her childhood in possibility.
Margot, Our Inspiration
While Margot (4) won’t be joining us on this particular adventure, she’s been a vital part of our family’s global story. She’s already traveled to four continents and reminds me daily how much children can absorb—even when we least expect it.
I’ve watched her calmly handle international flights, try unfamiliar foods, adapt to new cultures, and connect with children across language barriers. She’s my proof that travel teaches skills no curriculum can replicate—resilience, flexibility, curiosity, and empathy.
Margot may not be on the ice with us in November, but she’s very much part of the “why.”
Antarctica: A Continent and a Commitment
When Meredith and I fly over the Drake Passage this November (yes—we’re skipping the notorious sea crossing for the toddler-friendly flight option), we won’t just be landing on our seventh continent. We’ll be landing on a new chapter—one shaped by awe, effort, and intention.
Is it excessive? Probably.
Expensive? Certainly.
Necessary? Not in the traditional sense.
But then again, neither are Christmas presents, birthday parties, or bedtime stories. We give those not because children need them to survive, but because they help them thrive.
Travel—especially to somewhere as wild and untouched as Antarctica—is a tangible lesson in:
- Conservation: Seeing penguins in their natural habitat is the first step to caring about their future.
- Privilege: The very fact that we can visit these places comes with responsibility.
- Courage: Leaving comfort behind builds capacity for growth.
The Truth About Traveling with Toddlers
Let’s be real: family travel is rarely seamless. There’s the jet lag, the hotel cribs that feel like medieval contraptions, the $47 room service grilled cheese that gets one bite before being declared “yucky.”
There’s also the time Meredith got stuck in a bidet in Italy. And the stomach bug that wiped out 10 of our 22 guests in Paris for her birthday.
But those moments exist alongside the wonder:
- Splashing in the crystal water of Bora Bora
- Trekking (being carried) through the ruins of Machu Picchu
- Sharing sidewalk snacks London
- Soon… standing among penguins
It’s all part of the same story. One that says: you don’t need perfection to create magic. You just need presence—and a bit of boldness.
To the Parents Still Afraid of Publix
I see you.
Taking one toddler to the grocery store can feel like leading an unstable expedition—equal parts snacks, negotiation, and possible public humiliation.
I’m not suggesting you start with Antarctica.
But maybe it’s the playground across town, the restaurant without a kids’ menu, the trip to grandma’s two states over without all your gear.
Each small adventure builds the confidence—for you and your child—that makes the big ones possible.
We didn’t start with penguins. We started with packing the car, misreading nap times, and getting it wrong often enough to figure out what works for us.
The Legacy I Hope to Leave
When Meredith is older, she’ll see photos of herself wrapped in puffers on the Antarctic ice. She won’t remember the moment, but she’ll know this:
Her mother believed in saying yes.
To experiences.
To curiosity.
To a world too vast to ignore.
My deepest hope is that this journey becomes part of her internal compass. That she grows into a woman who:
- Greets difference with curiosity instead of fear
- Understands the importance of conservation because she’s seen what’s at stake
- Believes the world is her home—not just her zip code
- Trusts that she can do hard things—even when the conditions are less than ideal
- Knows that life’s greatest gifts often lie just beyond her comfort zone
So Why Antarctica, Why Now?
Because the world won’t wait.
Because the window to experience certain places—safely, responsibly, ethically—is narrowing.
Because Meredith won’t remember, but I will.
I’ll remember holding her hand as we stepped off the plane onto her final continent.
I’ll remember the way she laughed at the wildlife, the awe in her wide eyes, the way her presence reminded me that wonder is contagious.
And maybe someday, when she’s grown, facing her own choices, she’ll draw strength from this legacy of courage and curiosity.
If you’re ready to explore the world with your children—whether that’s a local day trip or a once-in-a-lifetime journey—I’d love to help. At Meridian Miles, we specialize in creating meaningful, luxurious, family-friendly adventures for travelers of every age and stage.
Because little passports? They hold big dreams.
And some dreams lead you all the way to Antarctica.
