What We Learned

Our travels are over. The adventure has ended. For now. We have returned home. Well, to be accurate, we've returned to the city where our stuff is. Let's call it home, for short. For many reasons; the main one being that we are not independently wealthy, our current wandering lifestyle has come to a close. For now. Not forever. Just for now. I say that with confidence, because we learned some things on this trip. We learned some stuff about ourselves. About our family.


We learned that we were great at traveling. Of course we were, that was the fun part, right? Going to new places. Exploring cool stuff. Awesome sights. Amazing scenic views. That stuff was easy. Fun. Except, that stuff was only like 10% of traveling. Tops. There's still the other 90% worth of stuff you have to do. Like get to the amazing views. They're not all right next to each other. The Midwest and mountain states are vast. And by vast, I mean... well, vast. Lots of vast car time. Mix in some random potty breaks. More vastness. Never-ending hungry children. More vastness. And then, some cool stuff to look at. At the end of the vast day, we still needed a place to sleep. Preferably a place with free breakfast. And a pool. And hot tub. That's mostly what traveling was. It was figuring out how to move the whole family around. It was finding stuff to see, and then finding a place to stay. It was logistics. And that stuff, the logistics, that's what we were good at. Surprisingly good in some instances.


We moved around well. When you consider we essentially had a mini version of our lives with us, that was no small feat. All told, we packed in and out of 25 different places. People's houses. Guest houses. Hotel rooms. Cabins. We traveled pretty light. Or so we thought. We were only allowed one suitcase of clothes each. Once you added in the kitchen bin, the school bin, the toy bin, and the cooler, we still managed to fill hotel luggage carts to the top. Mini versions of your life is still a lot. Even so, we ran a tight ship. With all that moving around, in and out, the unpacking and repacking, we didn't leave one thing behind. Nothing. We didn't lose anything. Nothing important, anyways. Kids losing their crappy, little toys doesn't count. That's actually a blessing. Random socks don't count either. They magically disappear at home. No, I'm talking about the stuff you always leave behind. Chargers. Favorite stuffies. Jewelry. Valuable things. We didn't leave a one behind. We were a well run machine. Organized. Streamlined. Even being faced with a crippling foot injury didn't slow us down. The caravan moved well.

We were resourceful. We perfected the skill of hotel room cooking. Most nights on the road we stayed in and cooked. Armed with our induction burner, and cast iron skillet, we were set. Even though it was way more work, it was healthier and obviously cheaper. There are a fair number of skills we learned to cooking in a hotel room. Always do it in the bathroom. With the fan on. You don't want to be the one that sets off the smoke detectors just cause you wanted some quesadillas. Use the toilet as a garbage disposal. It works great. Also, anything goes for a dining table. Same holds true for plates. We were creative. Practical. Almost masters by the end of the trip.

Surprisingly, we learned we were good at being in the car. For the most part. We drove over 7,500 miles in all. We visited 14 states. Seven National Parks and Monuments. We probably spent about 200 hours together, jammed into our Honda Odyssey. And it wasn't horrible. It didn't completely suck. That in itself is a victory, right? The driving was not the worst part of traveling. It could have easily been. Whiny kids. Carsickness. Getting lost,and driving aimlessly. It could have been a nightmare. But it wasn't. We managed to keep the kids pretty well entertained. Lots of audiobooks. Car games. We listened to the kids album Philadelphia Chickens over 400 times. Let me tell you, it takes a pretty special album to still be enjoyed after 400 times. This, however, was not that album. Sometimes we just sat and stared out the windows. We talked about what we just saw. What we were going to see. We sang. We slept. Sure, some times there was fighting, but, for the most part, the car time was great. There weren't even that many cases of “are we there yet?” Some. Just not a lot. We got good at finding ways for the kids to blow off some pent up car energy. Indoor swimming pools. Playgrounds when it was warm. Play-lands when it got cold. We even ran laps inside a rest area lobby for 20 minutes one frigid day. Blowing off steam was crucial to a happy van full of kids. We learned how to be good at that. Early on, we also figured out what everyone's car meltdown threshold was. It was usually somewhere around six hours. After six hours, all hell typically broke loose. So, our answer, was to keep our driving times shorter than that each day. And that worked, too. Nadia only felt really carsick once the whole trip. And that was coming down Pike's Peak. By the end of the trip, she wasn't even mentioning feeling bad anymore, and she even colored for a few hours. Not normal carsick behavior.


We were great travelers. The gypsy life was indeed for us. We would find fun stuff to do if we wanted. Or we would do nothing at all. We would hang out with friends, or set off to explore our surroundings. It was perfect. Except when it wasn't.


Not everything we learned about our family was positive. The reality was, that just because we were off having great adventures, didn't mean that our regular problems magically went away. We were still the same family, with the same issues. Sibling rivalry still existed. Jealousy and pettiness was still there. Being at a National Park, didn't stop people from getting their feelings hurt. Being on a mountain top didn't exempt arguments from happening. Meltdowns happened in hotel rooms just like they did at home. Scenic overlooks didn't prevent us from yelling at the kids for getting their feelings hurt, getting into arguments, and having meltdowns. No, the same family dynamics and frictions still existed on the road. The same drama still flared up. Just with better backdrops.


In fact, as the trip wore on, some of the drama intensified. Maybe it was all the time we were spending together in close quarters. Or maybe it was something else. The girls started feeling more anxious at times. Restless at others. 'I just need to squeeze something!' they would say. Also, their emotions were running even more hot and cold than their standard level of bat shit crazy. They couldn't articulate it, but they were trying to tell us something. We figured it out. The girls were feeling insecure. They need to feel safe. They needed a place to call home. As much fun as they were having, deep down, they needed a home. When we set out on this trip, it was never meant to be forever. Maybe in some fantasy we had, we thought we could live like this always. Some families do. Maybe we dreamed a little that our kids would grow into these super cool world travelers who never needed a real home. We'd have some family motto, like “As long as we're together.” We'd sell all of our stuff from our storage locker and hit the road indefinitely. We knew there was no way this was going to happen. Not our family. Not our kids. Our kids are adventurous. Sure. You could even say they are somewhat of free spirits. But, they also need to be grounded. Sometimes I forget that. I forget how young they are. I forget how fragile they can be. They are sweet, yet very emotional kids. I'm glad they are. But, with that, also comes the need for a sense of belonging. A sense of space. A home. I get that. It's normal. Natural. They can't feel safe to explore the world, without having stability and security at home.

So, after 138 days, our houseless-ness is over. We move into a short-term rental house soon, and once again will have a place to call our home. Does that mean our wandering days are over? No way. The traveling part is easy for us, remember? We're already discussing our plans for this summer. There's a lot more of this country still to see. It probably won't be a 4 ½ month adventure this time, but it also won't be just a week, either.


That's not how we wander.