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.
