Maybe, if threatened at gunpoint, I could come up with a handful of things that remain the same post-kids, but I’m not sure. I’d likely end up dead, because sitting here now, I can’t think of anything I handle in quite the same way as a I did before.
For example…
With summer here, we are getting very excited for our annual family vacation. Uh, make that family trip. Because of all the things children change, travel is near the top of the list.
Before kids we took Vacations. Now, we take Trips.
Let’s discuss.
A Vacation Is:
- (Somewhat) Affordable: only two of everything to pay for.
- Exhilarating.
- Exotic.
- Refreshing.
- Relaxing.
- Romantic.
A Trip Is:
- None of the above.
Perhaps, we could put Exhilarating, and sometimes Exotic, on the Trip list. Successfully navigating a toddler bathroom break on a tropical beach could be both exhilarating and exotic. If you’re playing fast and loose with your definitions.
And let’s face it, even when you get the opportunity to take a kid-free vacation, it’s not the same as it used to be. Now, before you leave you not only have to pack yourselves, but you have to get organized for someone else to watch your children.
Also, there’s the worrying. As much as I try to keep my cool, I can’t help but think about my kids while I’m gone. I miss them. I worry about something happening to them. Or to me. It’s the nature of parenthood – the little buggers are always on your mind.
Vacations and Trips are not, however, mutually exclusive. More commonly they exist in hybrid form:
The TriCation.
That’s to say, it’s not easy or cheap or particularly romantic to travel with young children. But packing 18 bags of supplies for all possible scenarios can still result in a fun time had by all.
You’re probably going to sweat, a lot, from lugging kids and their crap through airports, theme parks, museums, national parks, in and out of rented minivans, through family-friendly (read: overpriced and under-flavored) restaurants. There may be tears, and not all of them will be yours. Probably a little whining here and there. And I can almost guarantee motion-sickness related vomit.
But your TriCation will probably contain more than a few memorable moments, too. Like these:
- What is that daddy lion doing to that mommy lion? -3 year old to his father
- We probably wouldn’t be lost of mommy could read the damn map. That’s what daddy says. -5 year old to his brother
- Since everyone went a whole 32 seconds without whining, you can all have ice cream for breakfast! -Mom to the rest of the family, Dad included
Seriously, a TriCation is work. No doubt. But it’s fun, too. Not life-before-kids-cocktails-and-sleeping-in fun, but something bigger than that.
I remember watching my sons experience the ocean for the first time. I remember the look on my oldest son’s face when he rode a gondola up the mountainside. I’ll never forget the the thrill they got when we drove our car onto a ferry boat. And when I think about these things, I know why we make the effort.
We put the work in to get the memories out.
Along the way we learn a lot about each other and the world around us. We talk, we laugh. And yep, we cry and whine a little, too. We eat new foods, and very rarely throw them back up. We see sights not available at home, like salmon swimming upstream or snow in July.
My family has a TriCation coming up later this summer. We’re traveling with friends and together we’ll have four kids, ages five and under. I know there are some things I can count on, like meltdowns and tantrums.
It’s the surprises in store for us that make my heart beat a little faster, and make the luggage seem a little lighter. It’s the Kodak moments, the stories we’ll write and retell for years that make entertaining a two year old on an airplane worthwhile.
So, yeah, there aren’t a lot of relaxing or romantic moments on the agenda for this TriCation, but for now, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
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