How to Go to the Bathroom When Traveling Alone With Toddlers
Figuring out how to go to the bathroom when you’re the only adult traveling with toddlers is one of those oddly specific challenges you don’t fully understand—until you’ve had to do it. Whether it’s me who has to go or one of my not-quite-independent potty trainees, every bathroom stop comes with its own set of hurdles.
For context: I’ve been traveling solo with my kids since they were an infant and a one-year-old. These days, they’re two and almost four—both potty trained, but still not fully independent in the bathroom. So I’m very much still in the trenches.
This post isn’t about glamorous family travel. It’s about the very real logistics of peeing (or helping someone else pee) when you’re the only adult in charge. From cramped airplane lavs to public bathrooms abroad, here’s exactly how I manage bathroom breaks while traveling solo with toddlers.
1. U.S. Airports & Public Restrooms: Where Strategy Begins
The first thing I always do when we’re out and about is look for a family restroom. In the U.S., they’re often available in airports, museums, theme parks like Disney, and other well-maintained public spaces. They’re spacious enough to push a stroller into and typically come with a changing table—huge win. I can keep the kids strapped in while I use the toilet and take care of all their needs before we leave.
Most family restrooms don’t have automatic doors, which means getting in and out with a stroller turns into its own little dance. I usually open the door all the way with my hand, hold it with my foot while I start pushing the stroller through, then shift to using my hip to hold the door open while guiding the stroller the rest of the way in. Getting out, I grab the handle, crack the door open, and then push it the rest of the way with my back as I back the stroller out. It’s a process—but it works.
Side note / mini PSA: A lot of people use family restrooms for privacy… to poop. I’ve waited so many times with a stroller and two toddlers on the verge of an accident, only for one solo adult to eventually come strolling out—leaving a bathroom that absolutely reeks. If you’re alone and just looking for a quiet spot to go, please leave the family restroom for, well, families.
When the family restroom isn’t an option, I go to Plan B: the handicapped stall. I try not to use it unless I have to—I want to leave it available for those who really need it. But when I’m solo with both kids and the stroller, sometimes it’s my only choice. Thankfully, my double stroller fits through most stall doors, and I move fast so we’re not holding things up.
If only regular stalls are available, I look for a safe spot to leave the stroller (usually just outside the stall or the restroom itself) and bring the kids in with me. They know by now to stand still while I pee—mostly. Occasionally, one will try to open the door or make a break for it under the stall wall. That usually results in me shouting something like, “STOP,” mid-stream or holding the door closed with one hand while wiping with the other.
This was way harder before my youngest could stand. I had to hold her or set her on my lap while I peed—just to keep her off the bathroom floor. We were never a big baby-wearing family, but I have to admit, having a carrier would have helped a lot in those moments.
2. Airplane Bathrooms: The True Test of Parenting Skill
Airplane bathrooms are their own kind of challenge. The first question is: Do I bring the kids with me, or can I leave them in their seats?
For a long time, the answer was always that I bring them with me. My kids were too young for me to feel comfortable leaving them alone in the seat. So if one of us had to go, we all went.
Here’s how our standard routine plays out:
- I have my oldest walk to the lav, and I carry my youngest.
- I hold the door open while my oldest steps in.
- Then I set my youngest on the closed toilet seat lid.
- Then I lift my oldest up and have him stand on the toilet lid too.
- I finally step in, squeeze the door closed, and we all shuffle around to get into place.
If one of the kids has to go:
- I set the other one down to stand on the floor.
- I undress the potty kid while they’re still standing on the toilet lid and then pick them up.
- I lift the lid, place them on the seat, they go, I clean them up, and reverse it all.
If I have to go:
- One kid stands on the floor and the other on the lid.
- I lower my pants, pick up the kid from the lid, lift the seat, sit down, then set that kid back in front of me while I do my business.
- Once I’m done, I do what I call the reverse shuffle: pants up, lid down, swap the kid back to the lid, wash hands (mine and theirs), and get out as fast as humanly possible.
It’s a full-body workout.
One time a flight attendant told me only two people could be in the lav at once. I explained I was solo with two little kids. He kindly offered to hold my youngest while I took the older one in. Flight attendants are amazing—don’t be afraid to ask for help if you need it!
Pro Tip: Most planes have at least one lavatory with a baby changing table—usually folded up against the wall. It’s tight and not exactly luxurious, but it does the job. If you’re not sure where it is, ask a flight attendant—they’ll point you in the right direction.
Now that my kids are getting older, I’m starting to leave my oldest in his seat if he doesn’t need to go. If both kids are asleep on an overnight flight, I’ll go to the bathroom alone. And just like with the public restroom stalls—things were much harder before my youngest could stand on her own. Again, a baby carrier would’ve been a game-changer.
3. Public Bathrooms Abroad: A Whole New Set of Rules
Outside of the U.S., bathroom logistics get even trickier. The first thing to know? Carry local cash. Many restrooms cost money—5 pesos, £1, €1—and they often require coins.
Here’s what I’ve run into so far during my international travels with toddlers:
Mexico City, Mexico
Bathrooms were tough here. In Chapultepec Park, restrooms cost about 5–6 pesos—and none of the toilets had actual seats. My 2-year-old daughter relies on her frog potty seat. It needs a standard toilet seat to sit on, and without one, it just falls right into the bowl—so it couldn’t be used at all. And without her froggy seat, she refused to go.
We ended up shortening outings to stay close to the hotel. I left my daughter in a pull-up when we were out, just in case. At the airport, we found a big handicapped restroom near our gate—but again, no toilet seat. My son and I managed, but my daughter waited until we were on the plane.
Montreal, Canada
Montreal felt a lot like the U.S. We visited La Grande Roue de Montréal and the Montreal Science Centre—both had clean, free restrooms. Restaurants also had easy-to-access bathrooms, though many weren’t stroller-friendly. I had to leave the stroller outside a few times, but it felt safe enough.
London, United Kingdom
We mostly stuck close to our hotel and used its restroom. In places like the Natural History Museum and various restaurants, restrooms were free but not accessible—I always had to leave the stroller outside. At Victoria Coach Station, I had our luggage and stroller with me and had to beg a worker to let me use the handicapped stall because I didn’t feel safe leaving our stuff unattended. He wasn’t thrilled, but after explaining I was completely alone, he let us in.
Bruges, Belgium
We only had a few hours here on a cruise stop. I found a public restroom near the Belfort bell tower that cost €1. I left the stroller outside and felt fine doing so. The stall was normal-sized and clean—but my daughter was determined to open the door while I was peeing. Always a fun game.
Hamburg, Germany
This was another cruise stop. We only used the bathroom at Miniatur Wunderland, and it was a dream—free, clean, and fully accessible. I wheeled the stroller right in. Five stars. Would pee there again.
4. Bathroom Survival Tips
If you’re planning a trip with toddlers and no second adult, here’s what I recommend based on all our bathroom adventures:
- Always carry small change in local currency for paid restrooms.
- Bring a portable potty seat—we love our green frog seat—especially if your toddler relies on something familiar.
- Pack wipes and pull-ups you already trust. I keep these stocked in our travel bag just in case.
- Keep a change of clothes for each kid in your carry-on. I also bring gallon size Ziploc bags so I have something to contain soiled clothes, especially if there’s poop involved. They’re disposable if needed, which is ideal when you can’t rinse anything out mid-transit.
- Plan bathroom breaks around restaurant stops or known attractions with reliable facilities.
- Consider babywearing for babies and pre-walkers, especially in tight or inaccessible spaces.
- Practice restroom routines with your kids ahead of travel so they know what to expect.
And sometimes? Even when you do all the right prep, accidents still happen.
Like the time my oldest refused to pee in the airport or airplane, and then had a full-blown accident in the car seat of our private transport from MCO to Disney. I told the driver, offered to pay for cleaning (which he kindly declined), and changed my son into the dry clothes I had packed in our carry-on. Sometimes all you can do is clean them up, take a breath, and move on.
Final Thoughts: Peeing With Toddlers Isn’t Glamorous—But It’s Doable
Bathroom breaks while traveling solo with toddlers may not be glamorous, but they’re totally manageable with a little prep and a lot of flexibility. Over time, I’ve learned to expect chaos, embrace the awkward, and always—always—carry hand sanitizer.
These moments can feel chaotic and exhausting in real time, but they’re also very empowering. Every time I navigate another bathroom mission solo, I’m reminded: I can do hard things. And so can you.
If you’re heading out on a solo parent trip, please know: you’ve got this. You might juggle a toddler while hovering over an airplane toilet. You might yell “DON’T OPEN THE DOOR” in five different languages. But you’ll get through it—and come out with stories to tell for a lifetime.