In December, the week before Christmas, this little family got COVID. While we threw ourselves a pity party during our week of quarantining, we planned a trip to California. Armed with antibodies, we were ready to open up our world.
As I booked flights and Airbnbs, I knew the trip would give me anxiety, but it felt so far away. I filed the trip anxiety under “Read later”.
Then, the week leading into our trip, I was a ball of nerves. One minute I’d be looking forward to hearing the ocean waves and being surrounded by forest. The next, I’d worry about whether the Ubers getting us to and from the airport would smell like cigarette smoke. Traveling with a kid is a thousand times harder than traveling on my own.
There are so many details to think about when vacationing with Bubba. (Is it really a “vacation” when your kid is with you?) Snacks to bring on the plane for him. How many diapers to bring. Whether to bring a box of pasta if we get to our first Airbnb too late at night. What to pack in the carry-ons in case our suitcases get lost. The list goes on for pages.
Of course, most of these details are rooted in fear and anxiety. Now that I look back on our trip, most of my fears didn’t happen. I wish I were a more carefree parent. I wish I didn’t care about so many things when it comes to my child. I wish my mind didn’t jump to so many “what ifs” and feel the need to have a plan for everything. Life, for myself and everyone around me, would be so much easier.
Somehow, this trip forced me to let go of things that would normally bother me at home. There were times we couldn’t wash Bub’s hands before he ate. There were times I couldn’t cook a homemade meal for him. There were times we let him watch TV for two hours so we could catch up with friends.
But, my letting go also created memorable experiences. On our trip, Bub went to a restaurant for the first time and ate his first French fry. He ate his first chocolate chip cookie. He hung out with Steve while I went to the office for the first time in two years.
This trip marked two years of living in Illinois; two years of being parents; two years of pandemic isolation. Exactly two years after we left California, we were back. Bub in tow.
We drove down roads we frequented in our Prius with Buddha in the backseat. This time, we were in a minivan with Bub in a car seat. I was happy to be amongst the trees and seas again. I loved being able to go to a new hiking trail each day. I loved letting Bub play with sticks and stones and dump dirt on his boots. I loved when we pointed out to him the tiny roly poly crossing the trail. I loved watching him collect rocks and chuck them across a ravine. I’ve missed being completely immersed in nature and have it be so close by. The Bay has a distinct smell to it - piney, herby, earthy. Hiking through the trails again, the smell and the nostalgia of two years ago came flooding back. Breathing it in deeply, I felt calmer, more grounded. Steve joked that I had to go to the edge of the earth in order to feel a sense of peace.
This trip was full of firsts for Bub and each of his firsts is a first for me as his mama. First flight for Bub means first flight for me with a toddler. First restaurant experience for Bub means first restaurant experience for me with him. One of the best parts about a trip is the unknown, the uncertainty, the sense of adventure. For this anxious mom, new things mean risk and danger. This trip taught me that the pros of adventure outweigh the cons. Life should be about fun and adventure, and that’s what I want to teach Reg.
My wise friend gave me wonderful advice before the trip. She said, “When your mind jumps to worst case scenario, force yourself to also think about the best case.” And isn’t “best case” the very reason we plan trips in the first place?
First Family Vacay
After more than a year cooped up in my parents’ home, I needed to get away. Quarantine was getting the best of me. I didn’t leave the house except to go grocery shopping every two weeks. I missed being out in nature. I missed the Bay, where we walked along the beach and hiked in the woods every weekend.
At my wit’s end and on Steve’s suggestion, I booked an extended stay for us in Michigan. The Airbnb was 10 minutes from most beaches and forest preserves and only a two-hour drive from where we were in Illinois. It offered a fenced yard for the dog, filtered water for formula, and the owner was nice enough to pause pesticide use during our stay.
At last, we had something to look forward to.
The day finally came for us to make our way to Michigan. The car was packed full of Bub’s stuff: highchair, Pack n’ Play, formula, clothes, diapers, bottles, snacks. The two most stressful parts of the trip were packing to leave for it and packing to come home. While one person watches the baby, the other person packs - switching on and off until we’re ready to go.
When we arrived at our Airbnb, I immediately wanted to turn around and go home. ‘I’ve made a terrible mistake,’ I thought. In my eyes, the place was dirty, covered in glitter (the bane of my existence), and it smelled strongly of artificial air freshener. My senses were overwhelmed and the Highly Sensitive Person in me was panicking. A year ago, these things wouldn’t have mattered as much. As a mom now, they freak me out because I am constantly worried about creating a safe space for my child. Whyyyyy did I leave our little bubble?
Miraculously, we got through our first night. Unloading the car, unpacking Bub’s things, scrounging up his dinner - somehow we did it. But, I was homesick for my parents’. I missed having everything I needed and knowing where everything was. I didn’t realize how hard traveling with a baby would be; I was kicking myself for not having thought through all the little things.
I had a silver lining. As we were getting ready for Bub’s bedtime, he was rolling around on our bed, laughing and having the time of his life. His eyes shone with pure happiness. His smile melted my heart. He wasn’t homesick at all. Home is where mom and dad are.
❤️❤️❤️
Throughout our stay, I would learn to let go. This was Bub’s first time in an entirely new environment. He was exposed to so many things. Some good. Some bad. At some point, I had to learn to let go of wanting to control everything.
Beaches mean sand and sand gets everywhere. Wooded areas mean mosquito spray and people in Michigan spray pesticides just like they do in Illinois. Some people smoke cigarettes and smoke dissipates into the air we breathe. No home, no Airbnb, no hotel, no place is perfect. Bub gets into things (like all toddlers). He’s going to prefer playing with the dog food bowl and the garbage than any of his toys. I can’t keep him away from all harm.
Here’s the thing about control, it stems from anxiety. While I am panicking and worrying about what he’s eating or breathing in, he is completely happy. He looks up at me with a big grin and bright eyes. I try to take a deep breath and just let things be.
