Years ago, I got my first raincoat as an adult. I was shopping with my mom and it was light blue.
I never really loved it. It felt too heavy when it was warm, and not warm enough for a cold rain. I kept for several years and finally donated it so that I could find one I liked better.
Since then, I have purchased many different parkas and raincoats trying to find the perfect one. A green one with black polka dots. A blue with white polkadots. A pink and greige one with a pretty, multicolored tie on the zipper but sleeves that were just a little too short. A gently used, expensive yellow one from eBay that ended up being worn around the collar and wasn’t waterproof anymore (which was NOT mentioned in the listing). A brown one that folded up into its own pocket. A blue parka. A shiny iridescent raincoat that I overpaid for on a third party website since it was out of stock with the manufacturer, and then ended up not being what I thought it was going to be. A black one on super sale from the Nat Geo website. A cute vintage red parka a blogger featured. And none of those is counting the cool green parka my dad made when he was younger for my mom, which got passed on to me.
Now, let’s talk about the weather where I live.
(Photo Credit: Kimona Paramour Photography)
As parents, we like to eye roll and commiserate about our failings as parents.
We made an elaborate lunch to trick our toddler into eating vegetables. Not only won’t he eat it, he later finds and raids your Super Secret Stash of Snickers, leaving a trail chocolate smears and wrappers through the house.
You forget to check to see what your kid is wearing before they leave for something and find out too late they are wearing something wildly inappropriate for the occasion or the weather.
The kids learn something about life from your behavior that you didn’t intend to teach them and then share it in public at the worst time.
But nobody is dying. No one’s life is in danger.
We wear those kind of fails as badges of honor, a series of moments where we glorify in the funny, embarrassing times when our kids shine a light on our humanity.
It’s harder to talk about the times when we actually mess up.
There is a formula to life here for us. At the beginning of the trip there is enthusiasm. We might kvetch about the heat and the bug bites and rain on days we wanted to go to the beach, but we love it.
We have ideas about what we want to do, but there’s no rush. We have energy to go to the beach or take a drive every day.
My dad is a lean, mean, packing machine, and I like to think I got those genes from him. I get a kick out of planning and packing efficiently, and love arriving at a location when everything I need and nothing more.
I also struggle with self doubt and the tendency to want be over-prepared.
Cylon and I have been doing our big trip to Tobago since about a year and a half after we got married. This summer we’ll have been married for 12 years. We have agreed that we can’t remember how many times we have made the trip, but are pretty sure this is #9.
I mentioned in my post about packing for travel with kids that I have lists detailing what each person in the family needs for the trip. I edit and hone them every time we come down.
The lists only work when I use them.
For a long time, I thought I was a flexible person. I loved going new places, trying new foods, and meeting new people.
As time has passed, I have realized I am not that flexible.
