I started the first official day of our trip with this candy and within an hour I was feeling bubbly and effervescent. Any real nuance of flavor was lost under the generous dusting of sour sugar that coated each piece, but it was no more or less tantalizing than any drugstore sour candy. I thought I recognized floral notes, hints of grapefruit, and a suggestion of stone fruit, but frankly, I’m not inspired or upset by the lack of complexity in my sour gummy candy. Is it sour? Yes. Is it gummy? Yes. Is it candy? Absolutely. Does it get you high? Sure! At 5mg of THC per gummy, it might not make your heart skip a beat, but it works. The high came on gently and was comfortable enough to build on, either with a hit of flower or another 5mg piece as the day wore on.

After my gummy kicked in, I strapped my son into a stroller and spent the afternoon sightseeing on foot. Even in my unsupportive ballet flats, I felt like a bottle of Sprite walking on trampoline shoes. For all of the miles we walked, my feet, ankles, legs, and knees were remarkably unaffected. I felt like I could easily walk another ten miles, but not in a cloudy, boozy, painkiller kind of way that would most certainly end in regret. This feeling was almost therapeutic, like a deep tissue massage. This was the case for several hours, but after getting sidelined by a heavy lunch, the high pitched downward sharply, leaving me momentarily nauseous and jittery. The nausea abated right alongside the remaining vestiges of the high, an anticlimactic resolution to a mostly jubilant day.

“The high came on as expected like a carbonated mist.”

I spent the second day testing Smokiez Peach Gummiez at my in-law’s home, where the excitement and energy in the house made it hard for me to truly relax. While I tested the merit of these gummies in ideal circumstances the previous day, this time around I was testing them under stress and significant discomfort. The high came on as expected like a carbonated mist, but on this day it was delivered to my mind rather than my calves, which proved essential in maintaining my chill. I was content to stare into the woods, meditate, and practice mindfulness—quite the reversal from the previous day’s walkathon. Again, as the high abated, it delivered a note of nausea before deserting me entirely. No gentle tapering off, just ten minutes of wondering if I was going to barf or not before realizing I was no longer high.

Compromising your comfort is an essential part of traveling with small children. That much is plain and simple. Counteracting the pressures of toddler travel is essential if you want to have anything resembling a good time without the risk of incapacitating intoxication. When I was younger, I would have partied myself through a trip such as this and no one would have batted an eye. Now, a decade or so later, I want the self-medicating perks of a night of responsibility-free boozing, but I want nothing to do with actually drinking my discomfort away, especially when I have to wake up to the demands of a tiny human and the animated, bubbly chatter of a big family. For me, these gummies bandaged the critical wounds of post-flight delirium, jet-lagged malaise, and motherly anxiety. I highly recommend these, not just for toddler travels but for any situations with stressful undertones where calm detachment and strong walking legs can become your saving grace.