If there’s one thing my husband and I really have in common, it’s a desire to travel.
We go about it differently–we want to see different things along the way, we have different scheduling styles–but we both love to see new places and do new things. Introverts though we are, we even like meeting new people from time to time. We always tell ourselves we’re going to take more trips, go on more adventures.
The thing is, we have two children.
There are people out there who don’t understand why this is a problem–even people with children. Some peoples’ kids are great travelers, I guess. That’s amazing and I’m glad for them. My children, on the other hand–
Okay, they love to travel. They love riding in new vehicles, flying in planes, exploring the airport. They’re even okay with road trips if there are frequent stops. They love packing suitcases and staying in hotels. They love continental breakfasts and what the boy calls “vacation Cheerios” (aka Froot Loops). They would be thrilled if we traveled more–if every trip were tailored to them.
They don’t want to go to museums unless there’s a kid’s area with crayons and stuff to climb on, in which case they’ll confine at least one parent to this area until lunchtime. They don’t want to go to restaurants that don’t serve grilled cheese and fries. They’re getting better about waiting in lines and following directions, but they still like to grab everything they see whether they’re allowed to or not, and to climb on things, and to run and scream and when that wears them out, to be carried around like so much luggage.
Of course, they’re young. Really young. Two and four: babies. Things will change.
But it will never be the same.
I keep telling myself that I can adapt, both to traveling with kids and missing them if I ever get the guts to travel without them. I keep telling myself we need to get out more, go on more adventures–
But then I don’t schedule anything.
Now, it’s nearly springtime, which means it’s nearly summer, which means if we’re going to travel this year, I’ve got to start planning.
In April, I want to at least catch the tail end of Get Lit! in Spokane, whether I go alone or the family tags along and plays with our friends in the area. If I go alone, it will be my first time away from the kids overnight. The thought is both thrilling and terrifying; I don’t know if I can do it.
This summer, I want us to go camping (we haven’t been since I was pregnant with the girl; this was a fun trip because I had to get up to pee about twelve times that night, the dog was too afraid to stay in the tent without me and thus trotted along on all twelve trips, my constant waking kept my husband up, and then my son threw a screaming tantrum at about five a.m., waking the whole campground).
I want to get used to traveling with littles (though I know they won’t be little for long). I want to take more day trips. I want to get out of the friggin’ house (and come summertime, my children will demand it).
We’ll see how it goes.