Travels with Children
In an attempt to travel safely during the pandemic, we rented a 30-foot RV trailer through Outdoorsy and I picked a campsite location a little over an hour away. Everything about traveling with young children requires lowering your expectations. 5 hours of sleep, 4 items you forgot to pack, 3 major inconveniences, 2 meltdowns per child, 1 unexpected detour is typically a good baseline of realism. As I’ve explained in the past, our barometer for “fun” also needs to be auto-tuned. I have traded in my Mardi Gras beads for teething necklaces.
The volume of stuff required for a trip of any kind with kids is just ridiculous. If you’re like me, you make lists, the laundry runs for 48-hours nonstop before and after. Moms will spend more time prepping and unpacking, than enjoying themselves during the trip itself, these are just the facts.
My four-year-old told us before we left, this is Josephine’s first vacation in our family. Some days I worry she’s not yet been initiated into their girl gang. But this small statement, one that could easily be glossed over, is actually a symbol of inclusion. I felt its meaning trickle through my body, the way a hug does these days. It’s weight holds so much more.
The girls loved the bunk beds, and various storage containers that they could use as secret hideouts. 70% of childhood pleasures seem to consist of elevated, or overly confined spaces. We fished, swam in the reservoir, and had a new adventure as a family in the great outdoors.
As a mom, I asked myself, what was I attempting to get out of this “vacation”?
It wasn’t R&R—that was lost when I had to help my husband back the RV up into the camp spot between two huge trees, on a hill, with all the kids screaming at once.
It wasn’t to sleep well, at midnight we played a losing game of musical beds, battled homesickness, and I co-slept with my 16-month-old who has never co-slept.
It wasn’t to increase my squat and hover strength or brush up on entomology. One of three the major inconveniences occurred when our RV couldn’t be hooked up to water without leaking water all over the floor. So, we used the open-air bathrooms and mid-hover I happened upon a bug that was the size of my foot (please keep in mind I wear size 12).
Then around 16-hours in, it occurred to me.
I sat with Josephine on the beach, while she covered my legs in rocks (the closest thing I’ve had to a pedicure in 120 days)--my husband had both big girls about 50 yards out in the water and they were shrieking with unabashed glee.
It felt exactly right.
The effort, coordination, worry, money, sleeplessness, had absolutely nothing on this feeling.
We are here for those small moments.
The ones that become internalized memories, we can call upon in the darkness. It’s letting the powerful minutes speak louder than the challenging ones. Sometimes in order to get there, we just have to travel outside our comfort zone.