36 Hours in Vegas With Kids

An hour by hour guide of drunk angels, meltdowns, delicious "french" food and a disorderly conduct arrest

For Spring Break we’re heading out to Bryce and Zion National Parks with a pit stop in Vegas. While researching Vegas with kids I couldn’t find anything that truly spoke to me so I figured I would write my own “guide.”

Here’s the thing about Vegas. It can be a lot of fun for kids, but it’s not set up for kids. The key is embracing it for what it is—a place where normal rules don't apply.

The city of excess, spontaneity, and questionable decisions remains exactly that. If your toddler wants to wear a bathing suit with her brother's underwear? Perfect. Your five-year-old running barefoot through a casino? She won't be the first girl to throw her shoes on the floor and say she’s had enough.

The secret to Vegas with kids lies in timing, expectation management, and finding joy in the absurd juxtapositions that only Vegas can provide. Our 36 hours includes some drunk angels, a delicious “French” meal with a view, endangered species and an arrest (none of us).

DAY 1

12:00 AM: We land at midnight—which was probably a mistake. No bell service to be found at The Excalibur (which we chose for the halfway decent price and because it is a castle). We definitely wouldn’t choose it again, but the kids did like waking up and seeing turrets.

Two very kind ladies paused in their late night revelry and offered to help us with our bags and then blew a bunch of bubbles for the kids. They escorted us all the way to the eleventh floor in heels and then danced off to rejoin the club. My son said, “that’s what Vegas is all about. People help each other.” Bea asks me if they were angels. I say yes.

But another miracle is to be had. The crib fits in the bathroom. Always a blessing.

6:30 AM: Being awake early is kinda lovely in Vegas because most people are just going to sleep so it is empty.

I volunteer to "grab coffee," secretly relishing my solo mission to the lobby where I can quietly observe the walk of shames. I cherish these moments.

9:00 AM: Walking the kids through a nearly empty casino with "It Wasn't Me" by Shaggy is perfect. We begin our family Vegas Scavenger Hunt created by Nick Aster by finding the Statue of Liberty and Chrysler Building.

10:00 AM: The New York New York hotel arcade becomes our morning headquarters. A kind worker, noticing our enthusiasm, comps us a game.

10:30 AM: We catch the first tram of the day to Mandalay Bay for the aquarium. The walk through the casino is so long that my daughter bails on the aquarium altogether. “I’m done,” she declares. And she is.

10:50 AM: The aquarium is actually great. Sharks, a very alert Komodo Dragon, an exuberant octopus, a giant tortoise. Charlie loves the Devil's Hole pupfish exhibit—an endangered species that only exists in a single hot hole outside of Vegas. There’s a metaphor for survival in them.

11:38 AM: I find myself staring at a sign advertising bottomless mimosas for $30, mentally performing cost-benefit analysis calculations.

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