The 72-Hour Go-Bag, Packed by Age

Last reviewed 1 November 2026

Everything else on this site assumes you stay home. The calculator, the water bank, the food kits: all of it is arithmetic for a house that still works as a house. This page is for the other day, the one where the house is the problem. A fire, water coming in, a gas leak, an evacuation order with the storm still two days out. On that day the stockpile stays behind and whatever is in the bags by the door is the whole plan.

Seventy-two hours is the standard window for a reason: it is roughly how long organized help takes to reach you in a serious event, and it is the evacuation supply the Red Cross tells every household to keep ready. Three days, per person, in bags you can grab in minutes.

A go-bag is not the home stockpile in miniature. It is a different problem with a different boss: everything in it has to be carried, by the person it belongs to, including the people who cannot carry anything at all. That one fact shapes every list below.

The three rules that decide everything

• Rule 1: Weight is the budget. The working rule for a carried bag is about 10 percent of body weight as the comfortable target and 20 percent as the hard ceiling. A 150 pound adult lands at 15 to 25 pounds in practice. A school-age child should be closer to 10 percent than 20. An elderly person should not be carrying a bag on their back at all if there is any way around it: their kit rides on wheels or in the car. Every bag in this plan gets weighed on the bathroom scale when it is packed, and the weight goes on the tag. A bag you have never lifted is a guess, not a plan.
• Rule 2: Medications get seven days, not three. The bag is sized for 72 hours; the medicine pouch is not. Pharmacies close, roads close, and the refill that takes an afternoon in normal life can take a week after a storm. Seven days of every daily medication, in the original bottles, plus a paper list: drug name, dose, schedule, prescribing doctor, pharmacy name and phone number. Paper, because phones die and the list is what a shelter nurse or an ER doctor actually needs. Florida law lets a pharmacist provide an emergency refill during a declared state of emergency, which is a good backstop and a bad plan. The bag should never depend on it.
• Rule 3: Every person gets a bag, even the ones who cannot carry it. The baby's bag exists. The toddler's bag exists. They ride on an adult's back or in the car next to the adult bags, and that is exactly why the adult weight budget has to leave room: the adult carrying the baby's world is carrying two people's 72 hours.

The water problem, honestly

The home rule is a gallon per person per day. Three days of that is 25 pounds of water per person, before food, before the bag itself. Nobody is carrying that, and any go-bag list that pretends otherwise is fiction.

So the bags carry about a day of drinking water per person (roughly 3 liters for an adult, less for kids), the shared kit carries a filter and purification tablets, and the rest of the water rides in the car. In South Florida you almost always evacuate by car, which is why the go-bags live where the car gets loaded, not in a bedroom closet. If the car dies or the road ends, the filter is the plan: ours is the Sawyer squeeze filter from the water guide, small enough to live in the shared kit permanently, backed up by Aquatabs for the water you cannot filter first.

The shared kit: one per family, rides in the car

These are the things nobody should be carrying five copies of. One tote or duffel, loaded with the bags.

• Documents. Copies of IDs, insurance policies, the deed or lease, birth certificates, and the medication lists from Rule 2, in the fireproof document bag we already own. Originals live there too if you can grab them; copies are the floor, not the goal.
• Cash. Small bills, enough for two nights of food, fuel, and a motel room that only takes cash because its card reader is down. ATMs and card networks are both grid-dependent.
• Light and information. One LED lantern, headlamps or flashlights per adult, the battery weather radio (ours is the Midland ER310 from the communications guide), and spare batteries from the battery bank.
• Power. A 20,000 mAh power bank per car, charging cables for every phone in the house, and a car charger. The GMRS radio rides here too once it is programmed.
• Water tools. The Sawyer filter, Aquatabs in both sizes, and a collapsible container to filter into.
• First aid. One real kit, not five token ones: bandages, antiseptic, antibiotic ointment, pain relievers, anti-diarrhea medicine, tweezers, medical tape, the CPR masks, and any household-specific items from the age lists below.
• Sanitation. Wipes, hand sanitizer, small trash bags with ties, a roll of toilet paper in a zip bag. A shelter bathroom line is not the moment to discover you skipped this.
• Tools and shelter. A multi-tool, a small roll of duct tape, zip ties, work gloves, a mylar blanket per person, and KN95 masks. In Florida, add insect repellent: standing water after a storm means mosquitoes by the second day.
• Paper. A printed contact list, a printed map with two evacuation routes marked, and a pen. The family communications plan has the contact tree; this is the copy that works with a dead phone.
• The dog. Three days of food, water, a leash, and vaccination records in the same tote. Shelters that take people do not always take pets; the records are what let a pet-friendly one say yes.

The baby bag (under 1 year): carried by an adult, about 8 to 10 pounds

We ran this version last year, and it is the bag that humbles you. A baby consumes supplies at a rate that has nothing to do with how small the baby is.

• Diapers: 30 or more. A newborn goes through 8 to 12 a day, a six-month-old 7 to 9. Three days at the real rate, plus a margin, is 25 to 36. Pack the current size and a few of the next size up, because the bag may sit for two months and babies do not pause for your packing schedule. Wipes: two packs, they are also the bath.
• Feeding: up to 96 ounces of formula. Babies drink about 2.5 ounces per pound of body weight per day, topping out around 32 ounces a day, so three days at the ceiling is 96 ounces. The CDC's guidance for emergencies is ready-to-feed formula where you can manage it: no water to measure, nothing to mix wrong at 2 a.m. in a parking lot. If you pack powder, pack the exact formula the baby already drinks. An evacuation is the worst possible day to find out a new brand does not agree with them. Bottles, at least two, and a way to wash them.
• Medication, dosed by weight. Infant pain and fever reducer with its dosing syringe, and the baby's current weight and dose written on the bag tag. Children are dosed by weight, not by age, and the number changes monthly at this age. Ask the pediatrician for the current dose at every visit and update the tag.
• Clothes and comfort. Three changes of clothes (they will all be used), a warm layer, a blanket, two pacifiers if the baby takes one, and one familiar small toy or cloth that smells like home. Sleep in a strange place is the whole battle; anything that makes the strange place smell familiar is equipment, not sentiment.
• Never in the bag: honey in any form under 12 months, and water treated with iodine for bottles. Neither is a close call.

The toddler bag (1 to 3 years): carried by an adult, about 6 to 9 pounds

Our current version. The toddler is the age where the bag stops being mostly diapers and starts being mostly morale.

• Diapers: 15 to 18, plus pull-ups if you are training. Toddlers run 4 to 6 diapers a day. If potty training is underway, pack for full regression anyway: under stress, in strange bathrooms, toddlers go backwards, and that is normal, not a setback worth fighting in a shelter.
• Food: half an adult ration, in toddler form. Shelf-stable toddler milk or the powdered milk he already drinks (ours is Nido Kinder 1+), pouches, crackers, cereal bars, fruit cups: food he will actually eat, at room temperature, with no cooking and no negotiation. Familiar food is a calming tool as much as a calorie source. Around 1,000 to 1,300 calories a day in food he recognizes beats 2,000 calories of food he refuses.
• Drink. A sippy cup that does not leak, plus Pedialyte powder packets. Toddlers dehydrate faster than adults and announce it later; the heat guide's rule stands: the toddler gets Pedialyte, never adult electrolyte mixes.
• Medication, dosed by weight. Children's pain and fever reducer with the dosing syringe, his current weight and dose on the tag, any daily medication at the seven-day standard, and diaper cream, which counts as medical supplies by day two.
• Clothes and the comfort item. Two full changes plus a spare shirt, socks, and shoes he can walk in. And the lovey, the blanket, the specific stuffed thing: whatever he sleeps with comes, full stop. It weighs almost nothing and it is the difference between a toddler who sleeps in a shelter and one who does not. A few small toys and a picture book round it out.
• Identification. A card in the bag and a photo of him on every adult's phone, taken recently: name, date of birth, parents' names and numbers, doctor, allergies. Toddlers cannot tell anyone who they are. The card does it for them.
• His own tiny backpack. Optional and worth it: a small pack he carries himself with his snacks and toy. It will not lighten your load. It gives him a job and a thing that is his, and on evacuation day that matters more than the ounces.

The teen bag (13 to 19): carried by the teen, 12 to 18 pounds

The teen is the only bag besides the adult ones that carries itself, and the only eater in the house who out-eats the adults: the calculator counts a teen at 2,500 calories a day, the highest rate on the page. Plan for it.

• Food and water: the full adult share. Teen hunger in a shelter is not a discipline problem, it is arithmetic. Three days of dense, familiar, no-cook food and their share of the water.
• Their own medications, in their own bag. Inhaler, EpiPen, daily prescriptions at the seven-day standard, with the paper med list. A teen old enough to carry a bag is old enough to carry their own medical kit, and in a separation scenario it has to be on their body, not in a parent's duffel.
• Glasses and contacts. Spare glasses in the bag even if contacts are the daily driver, plus solution and a case. Contact wearers in shelters learn this rule the hard way.
• Hygiene, complete. Including period supplies for a full cycle, not three days of optimism. Deodorant, toothbrush, the works. Three days in a shelter without them is misery that costs almost no weight to prevent.
• Phone, charger, and a role. Their charger and cable, a share of the power bank rotation, offline downloads for the dead hours (music, shows, books: boredom in a shelter is a real load). And a written role in the family plan: who they help, what they carry beyond their own bag, where the meeting point is if phones die. Teens with a job in the plan cope measurably better than teens who are cargo.
• ID and money. A copy of their ID or school ID, the contact card, and a small amount of cash of their own.

The adult bag: 20 to 25 pounds, and it carries the overflow

The adult bag is the pack mule of the system. It holds the adult's own 72 hours and whatever the baby and toddler bags could not.

• The core. Three days of no-cook food (dense and familiar), about 3 liters of water, a full change of clothes plus a warm layer and rain protection, sturdy shoes already broken in, hygiene kit, flashlight or headlamp.
• Medications at the seven-day standard, original bottles, paper list. Include the unglamorous ones: pain relievers, antacids, anti-diarrhea medicine, allergy medicine. Evacuation food and shelter air will find every weakness in your system.
• Spare glasses. If you cannot drive, read, or function without them, a spare pair lives in the bag permanently. This is the single most skipped item on every list and the one that ruins the most evacuations.
• The overflow rule. When the baby bag does not close, the adult bag absorbs it, and the adult's own nice-to-haves come out first: the extra shirt, the paperback, the comfort items. Weigh the result. If the adult bag crosses 25 pounds, something moves to the car tote, not onto the adult, because the adult may also be carrying the toddler by hour six.
• Documents and tools on the person. A copy of the document set in a zip bag inside the adult bag (the main set rides in the shared tote), the multi-tool, work gloves. If the tote and the car get separated from you, the adult bag still has identity, medicine, water, and food for the whole small-person contingent for the first day.

The elderly bag (65 and up): on wheels, about 15 pounds, never back-carried

For an older adult, the constraint is not what to pack. It is who or what carries it. The answer is wheels: a rolling duffel or a small wheeled suitcase, or a kit that lives in the car full time. A grandparent who falls carrying a 20 pound backpack in the dark has turned a precaution into the emergency.

• The medication list is the bag. Seven days of medications is the floor; fourteen is the goal where the pharmacy and the prescriptions allow it, because older adults are the least able to absorb a missed week of blood pressure, heart, or diabetes medication. Original bottles, paper list with doses and schedules, and copies of the insurance and Medicare cards.
• The medical card. One card, in the top pocket: conditions, allergies, medications, doctor's name and number, pharmacy, emergency contacts, and any device information (pacemaker, implants, hearing aids). If they are found confused or unable to speak, this card is the entire handoff.
• The spares that matter. Spare glasses. Hearing aid batteries, a full card of them: hearing aids die quietly and a shelter is the worst place in the world to be deaf. Denture case and adhesive if applicable. A spare cane tip or the small parts kit for a walker.
• Mobility and comfort. Medications and water within reach, not buried: older adults dehydrate quietly and feel it late, the same tripwire as the heat guide. A warm layer even in Florida, because shelters are air-conditioned to refrigerator settings and older bodies regulate temperature poorly. Incontinence supplies for three days if they are part of normal life: they are part of the bag without discussion or embarrassment, like glasses.
• Paper backup for everything digital. Written phone numbers for family, because a lifetime of remembering numbers ended with the contact list. If they cannot operate a smartphone under stress, the plan cannot require one.

The medication layer, once more, slowly

Because it cuts across every age, the whole system in one place:

• Seven days minimum of every daily prescription in every bag, original bottles, rotated on the schedule below so nothing in the bag is expired.
• The paper list in every bag, not just the shared tote: name, dose, schedule, doctor, pharmacy. A separated bag still explains its person.
• Refrigerated medication gets a plan, not a hope. A small cooler and a frozen gel pack live with the shared kit. Many medications, including most insulins once in use, are labeled for a limited window at room temperature, sometimes up to 28 days: that window is printed on your label or one phone call to your pharmacist away. Learn it now, write it on the medical card, and the bag stops depending on ice. Per Ready.gov, refrigerated medication that has been warm too long should be replaced as soon as a new supply is available; when in doubt, the pharmacist decides, not the label on a stranger's website.
• Children are dosed by weight. Current weight and dose for every child, written on the bag tag, refreshed at every checkup. The dose that was right at 20 pounds is wrong at 30.
• Never a new anything. No new formula brand, no new food staple, no medication substitutes introduced during an evacuation. Stress tests the gut and the temper; the bag contains only proven things.

Bags rot: the rotation schedule

A packed go-bag starts going stale the day you zip it. Diaper sizes change, clothes stop fitting, medications expire, batteries self-discharge, and the toddler becomes a preschooler with different everything. The fix is a calendar, not vigilance:

• Baby and toddler bags: check every three months. Sizes, doses, food preferences, the comfort item (it changes; do not pack last year's lovey). This is the Red Cross's own advice for growing kids, and it is the check that gets skipped.
• Every other bag: twice a year. We do it June 1, the start of hurricane season, and December 1. Swap seasonal clothes, rotate medications and food by date, test the batteries and the radio, reweigh every bag, and update the tags.
• The grab test. At the June check, run it once: bags from the door to the car, everyone who carries carrying, timed. Five minutes is the standard. Whatever fumbled, jammed, or got forgotten is the real list of what to fix, and it is free information you only get by practicing.

The whole system at a glance

Everything on this page connects to the rest of the plan: the water guide covers the filter that makes the water rule work, the communications guide covers the radio and the contact tree, the heat guide covers knowing when the house stops being safe in the first place, and the calculator counts every person in your house at their own rate, babies and toddlers included, so the home stockpile behind these bags is sized for the same family.

Sources: Ready.gov, Build a Kit (basic supply list, infant formula and diaper supplies, glasses and medications, and guidance on replacing refrigerated medication after an outage). American Red Cross preparedness guidance (three-day supply for evacuation, two-week supply for home; quarterly kit checks for growing children). CDC, infant feeding during emergencies (ready-to-feed formula as the safest option; bottled or treated water for mixing). American Academy of Pediatrics feeding guidance (about 2.5 ounces of formula per pound of body weight per day, up to about 32 ounces). Diaper counts by age from pediatric and Red Cross family preparedness materials (8 to 12 per day newborn, 6 to 8 at one year, 4 to 6 toddler). Bag weight rules of thumb from standard backpacking and preparedness guidance (about 10 percent of body weight as a comfortable load, 20 percent as a ceiling). Florida Statutes section 465.0275 (emergency prescription refills during a declared state of emergency). Quantities checked November 1, 2026.