I wish this post could be about of all the things you can do to make camping go right.
But if you know anything about camping or kids, you’ll know that is just wishful thinking.
Ever since we’ve been married, my parents have supported the Chaplain and I by keeping the kids so that we can go away by ourselves about once a year.
Last year at this time, we were spending a week in Portland, Oregon together. In fact, it was the first time since I’d become a mom that I’d spent Mother’s Day away from my kids.
The trip felt like an escape for many reasons. The Chaplain was at a stressful, demanding job. I was eight months pregnant with Seven. We had a busy home life. We were tired and tense.
I’d planned the trip on the back of a trip to Portland I’d done with my dad and siblings in 2014. We’d gone to celebrate my dad’s 60th birthday by climbing Mt. Hood. The week was spent hiking, with the mountain climb in the middle.
Building on that, I hoped to revisit my favorite trails, and try one or two new ones. I also wanted to spend some time in downtown Portland, which we hadn’t had time to do on the 2014 trip. The Chaplain and I both had some ideas and recommendations for places to check out in the city. And I really wanted to see a Pacific Coast sunset.
In my experience, the travel home is easier on the kids than it is on the adults. The kids have traveled recently, so they know what to expect, and they haven’t been sleeping well. They look forward to things like the meal, juice, and the movie. They are able to sleep when they’re bored.
For us parents, we’ve also been sleep deprived, but we have to be available for help with food, toileting, and making sure none of our kids are kicking the back of someone’s seat. In our case, we typically drive to my parent’s house not far the airport a day or two before we leave on our trip. On the way home, we drive straight back home. This means our return trip is always hours longer than the trip there.
Our return flight was boarding a little after six a.m., and my husband and I got up with less than three hours of sleep. We made it to the airport without any trouble, thanks to the generosity of family and a friend who were willing to wake up before dawn to help get us there.
When the woman who was checking boarding passes saw us, her lips pursed and went off to one side as her brows lowered in annoyance.
(Photo Credit: Kimona Paramour Photography)
The end of our trip to Tobago was amazing. It’s easy to be adventurous when your time is limited. I can be up for anything with only 72 hours left to go. Until we have our plane tickets in hand for our next trip, which we hope to make in about a year, we can’t know for sure when we’ll be back.
Every chance we have to do something special needs to be grabbed and squeezed for all it’s worth. We can recover when we get home.
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.
