Monthly Archives: March 2015

Delaying Reality

My family and I just returned from a two and a half week vacation.  Everything about me whispers thank you for the ability to have done this.  To have experienced this.

I’m thankful for a job in my field that happens to compensate me well. Maybe I’m not supposed to say that, but I worked hard to get there. I’m thankful for the support of teachers who don’t bat an eyelash when I tell them we are scooping up the kids.

I’m thankful for neighbours and friends who looked in on our home and plow snow … a lot of snow … while we were gone. I’m thankful for family who take and care for our most important furry loved one.

I’m so grateful to return to a home that’s safe and sound.

I’m thankful for friends who leave amazing messages for me to return home to and I’m thankful for our safe journey after 2000 miles of driving and five plane rides.

And after all of that. After recognizing all it takes to make something like this come together, I find myself always wanting to delay reality when I return.

I don’t want to return to the real world. At least not just yet. I know what’s waiting there. The responsibility and the to do lists.

Just a little while longer of just the four of us in paradise please.

So I come home and I try and stay in “this place” for 48 hours. Just 48 hours more. Let me ease back into this thing called life.  I don’t want to have to be “on” quite yet.

And life seems to be cooperating with me this time.  Because on our first day back wouldn’t you believe school is cancelled. That means no stack of papers coming home to go through, no homework to be on top of and even basketball practice is cancelled. The universe is being kind to me.

I do go to work, some things can’t be delayed, but I close my door.  I never close my door.  But I need just a little while longer.  Just a little more time.

I stay off all social media.  Turning it on after 2 1/2 weeks will feel like a rushing wave of reality.  Just a little while longer let it be “just us”.  Let me be selfish.

I don’t open any of the big stack of mail sitting on my table.  With the exception of some birthday cards the rest of it can wait.  Just a little while longer.

I don’t call or text anyone except those who have reached out to me, because I know they will be there tomorrow … and they know me well enough by now that I need a little more hibernation.

But now it’s Wednesday.  We have been home our 48 hours and there is a slew of extra curricular kid activities on tonight.  So I guess it’s time to put on my big girl panties and wade into that reality.

It won’t be so bad really.  Truth be told right now I can’t wait to find out what my friends and family have been up to.  I can’t wait to see those basketball Moms and make a lunch date with a few particular girlfriends.  And I’m just about aching to hug the stuffing out of a few people when I see them.  I desperately need that long chat with my BFF and need to find out how her son did in the hockey tourney.

Yes.  It’s Wednesday and I guess it’s time to get back in the game.  And honestly there is no better reality to return to than the one I get to live right here.  I’m pretty damn lucky.  There is a lot to whisper thank you for … both on the road and at home.

So 1, 2, 3 … here we go.

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Anticipation, Preparation and the Journey

I love to travel. This is by no means a staggering admission to anyone who has ever met me, nor is it surprising as we slowly accumulate a small library of places we have been as a family over the years. And while nothing can compare to the new moments and experiences that immersing ourselves in a new place can bring, I almost equally enjoy all of the preparation that goes into the planning of these excursions.

We are sometimes different in the fact that we never choose an all inclusive option for travel and never go through a travel agent, so planning our vacations can be a full time job, which I know can seem daunting and overwhelming to some. But I must say, it’s this part of journey that I really do relish. I think the real joy in life is appreciating every moment of it, even the commonplace ordinary things like preparation. So while I hope an upcoming 19 days on the road will be amazing, the 60 days prior to that have been pretty damn amazing themselves as we dream of what is to come. It’s like that saying “Life isn’t about the destination but the journey that gets us there”.

And when I say I love everything about preparing to travel, I do mean everything. The anticipation is always palpable in my house as we talk about the places we will see and the things we will do. We make our endless lists. They begin with the big picture things. Where will we go this year, how will we narrow it down, how long will we plan to be gone, what are the new experiences we can have there (because if we can’t come home with new life experiences, it’s not a place worth going for us). Then we wittle our way down to the specifics and the logistics. What needs to be packed, hotels we have booked, tickets we have purchased, and all the freebies we have found to do there (this is one of my favourite parts). Lists after lists accumulate. And they are no longer made just by me, my children are very well showing up their mother now with their organizational travel and planning skills. Lists on electronic devices, on loose leaf , on post its. They are everywhere.

And I love the really small things too. The seemingly mundane things about getting ready to go on a trip. I love picking out the right books and magazines to read. I do. I love this. Not too thick. There won’t be time to read all of that. Certainly not hardcover. Too heavy. Sigh …. I guess that Jim Henson biography I’m in the middle of will have to stay home. So it’s down to the basement I go. I take a look at bookshelves to see what’s there. It never disappoints. I pick up an Anne Tyler called “Back When We Were Grown Ups” that I bought at Value Village, many a moon ago. Who can resist that title? It’s perfect. Into my carry on it goes.

It’s become ritualistic really … this packing and preparing and anticipating travel. Pouring liquids into tiny bottles, gathering all the chargers, creating folders full of our tickets and plans, the kids getting their backpacks ready, filling them with all the important things they have come to rely on when on the road. I see their passion for it, I see them owning it, these little pieces that are all a part of the experience.

There’s even anticipation as we go to the grocery store and pick out the snacks we will take on the plane. It sounds so silly doesn’t it? But it’s these things that are all part of it for us. Which flavour sucker do they want so their ears will pop easier on the plane? What snacks won’t melt in their bags and have some good protein? Heaven knows we aren’t buying a meal on the plane. We may travel a lot, but we do it cheaply and on our terms, saving our money for experiences and not things.

My kids have come to count on these traditions. They have come to appreciate them. These small rituals. And so have I. I love that. It extends the joy. It makes us appreciate the small things. And all this work we put into it makes it so much sweeter on the other end.

Our dining room table is full of these lists and items to pack at the last minute. The two weeks before a trip we can never eat in there and are always relegated to the kitchen for suppers. The dining room has always been trip central, and stays that way until the day we leave.

And boy do I love the feel as the day of departure gets closer. It does have a feel. It’s indescribable but it’s there. And the morning we leave … because we always seem to leave in the dark of the morning (can’t be burning daylight, right Dad?) … the morning we leave almost feels sacred. As the four of us embark on new adventure. The excitement in my kids eyes is irreplaceable.

We have been fortunate enough to have taken 13 family trips together. Each one has a different feel … but they all have one thing in common … joy and anticipation.

Some would add up the money we have spent over the years and think what a waste that was … how we have nothing to “show” for it. But I would argue that the most important things in life can never be seen … you can never “show” the most important things. And when I die, I will never look back saying boy I wish I had bought that “xyz” instead of the truly countless adventures we have had as a family together on our travels.

Soon we will be on the road again. And I can’t wait. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. But I also wouldn’t trade the months leading up to it and all the work that has gone into it. Some may see a dining room full of suitcases and a table full of papers and research. I don’t. It’s all part of the journey … all part of the joy … all part of who we are as a family and one of many common bonds that holds us together.

It’s something I whisper thank you for all the time.