Trips to Remember

For the past year, Steve and I have been debating where to settle and move our family. We explored moving to:

• Other areas in Illinois

• California (both the Bay and Santa Barbara)

• Munich, Germany

• Ann Arbor, Michigan

• Vermont

• The Berkshires in Massachusetts

• Upstate New York

I made pro/con list after pro/con list. I researched schools, grocery stores, hospitals, and airports nearby. I inquired about rental homes and calculated expenses and savings for every option. We dreamed about hiking in the Alps, learning to snowboard, going to UMich football games, enrolling Bub in a Waldorf school surrounded by forest. We took every idea and ran with it to see how far we could take it.

In the meantime, Bub went from being a toddler to becoming a kid with his own opinions, desires, and needs. He solidified his relationships with his grandparents, cousins, aunts, and uncles. He saw himself part of a community…a community I was so desperate to get away from.

Being in Illinois reminds me of a traumatic childhood, of my social anxieties in high school, of my awkwardness. It reminds me of my unfulfilled dreams of becoming a journalist in a big city, of living abroad, of meeting people who would broaden my horizons about the world. There’s so much more I want to do in life and yet, becoming a mom has put almost all of it on hold or moving at a snail’s pace.

Last week, I woke up with an epiphany. Creating distance between Bub and his current community might hinder him more than sending him to a school that uses pesticides, doesn’t serve organic meals, and isn’t in the mountains. I didn’t want him to resent me for moving him across the country to keep him “safe”.

Sure, I’d love to live somewhere with mountains in the backdrop. Yes, I’d love to hike through the forest every day and find a community of moms who prioritized the same things as me. Of course, I wish I was raised elsewhere and my family lived in ritzy New York or tropical Hawaii instead of in-the-middle-of-the-cornfields Illinois.

But, these are the cards I was dealt and I need to make the best of it. And most importantly, I need to do what’s best for my kids.

Steve and our families were ecstatic about my ultimate decision. Steve breathed a sigh of relief and said, “This makes the most sense financially.” My aunt told me, “I knew you’d come around.” My parents responded with, “I told you so.” I was happy our support system was pleased, I guess. We’ll need their help in August when Baby #2 arrives. I mean, what was I going to do in a new state and town when she arrives and we need someone to watch Bub? Do I deliver on my own while Steve watches Bub? Does Bub hang out in the delivery room with us? Do we pray the delivery is short and during Bub’s school hours? Asking a relative to fly to our new home at the drop of a hat seemed like a tall order.

The one thing I hadn’t figured out was what to do with my feelings of settling. Soon after I made my decision, I woke up in the middle of the night in a panic and feeling restless. I needed to get out of Illinois, out of this house, out of the routine of being a mom, even for just a day. I needed to be reminded of how nice home is. I needed to miss it. Steve encouraged me to book a trip somewhere and he encouraged me to do it whenever I was feeling this way. It could be as small as a staycation by myself or as big as a trip to New Zealand. By allowing them/us to stay in Illinois with a support system, I could leave as often as I’d like and go wherever my heart desired (budget depending). This was our compromise, our solution to settling. Go on trips to remember how good I have it at home.

New England, New Memories

Sometimes the camera can see what I can’t, sometimes it’s the other way around. I can see what my camera can’t. When it comes to fall foliage, my camera just couldn’t do it justice.

In Michigan, the colors were blooming. In Canada and Vermont, most of the trees were bare. The cold winds having blown most of the leaves off their branches. But oddly, they’re where I took some of my favorite photos. In Massachusetts and New York, the valleys were in their prime, covered in majestic golds, auburn, and rose. The same in Pennsylvania which we drove through as the sun started to rise - its golden rays beaming onto the sweeping landscape of every shade of rustic imaginable. Yellows, oranges, reds - oh my!

While Bubba napped in the van, Steve and I took in the foliage blanketing the hills. We’d be talking about random things and then stop mid-sentence to point out the breathtaking russet colors. October is officially my favorite time to road-trip.

For three weeks in October, we explored the east coast. Driving from Chicago and stopping in Ann Arbor, MI along the way. We spent a week in Canada, visiting family in Montreal. We then drove down to Vermont for a week and the Berkshires for another before making our way back home.

My happiest memories of our trip were outdoors. Watching Bub play with goats and chickens at an Airbnb outside of London, Ontario. Early one evening, we spent an hour playing under a huge flowy tree. Enjoying the autumn sun and the falling leaves, we chased each other around and wrestled to the ground. The same can be said for our time with relatives in Montreal, where my favorite moment was watching everyone play Sandman at the nearby park. We lucked out with a warm morning, the leaves on the surrounding trees were flaming red and orange, the streets were quiet from traffic. As I write this post, I can still hear the sound of kids (and adults) laughing. As they darted to and from playground sets, one would yell, “Sandman!”

In Vermont, I relished the freedom of letting Bub roam the secluded property we stayed on. There was a pond at the front of the house, where we chucked rocks and searched for frogs for hours. Whenever our hearts desired, we could walk the wooded trail on the property and listen to the serenity of the trickling stream below. One evening, Buddha and I sat outside and watched the sunset. Breathing in the crisp fall air in Vermont, completely alone - just my dog and me. It was so peaceful and magical.

In the Berkshires, we were amazed at how hiking to a waterfall, shopping at an organic co-op, and eating at a delicious patisserie were within a 20 minute reach. There was always something different to do and explore. The vibe reminded us of California, though the aesthetic was very much New England. We felt strangely at home.

There were ticks. There were triggers. Bub ate his weight in snacks in the van, smoked sausages for breakfast, and went a day or two without eating something green. But, this trip brought us closer to what makes us happy and gave us closure on what we want the next chapter of our life to look like. For that, I’m grateful.

Ann Arbor

Nelson Meade County Farm Park

Munched on apples, flew kites, climbed boulders

London, Ontario

Cockiest cock

Goats nibbling my sweater

Sweet baby Grace

Jack to the Jill

Bub’s first trip to the mall

Unknowingly went through entrance with arcade

Montreal

Mount Royal Park

My cousin’s wife makes amazing homemade Afghan food

Been dreaming about her aush noodle soup since the last time we visited

Bub’s first shaved ice and bubble tea experience

Gardens of Light at the Montreal Botanical Garden

Vermont

Maple candy at Baird Farm

Give me all the organic maple syrup

Berkshires

Hawthorne Valley Farm Store had organic items I’d never seen before

Race Brook Falls

“Mom, can you take a picture of me?”

Thank you, New England

“Autumn is a second spring, where every leaf is a flower.”

— Albert Camus

Taking a Michigander

I didn’t think weekends like this were possible given my anxiety. Weekends where I could go with the flow, enjoy the present, and make beautiful memories with my family. Weekends without panic attacks or debating with Steve on which decision is best for Bubba.

Weekends are meant for adventure. They’re meant to celebrate the end of a work week. I missed what weekends used to mean for me: enjoying the outdoors, going out to eat, and staying up late watching movies. After having Bub, weekends became more of the same - an extension of my work week because every day with Bub was work.

Now that he’s a little older and adaptable and more importantly, now that my mental state is in a stronger place, I want my weekends back - for exploring new places and trying new foods. Two things I never thought I’d be brave enough to do with Bub while he was young.

Last week, I realized I needed something to look forward to each weekend - a day trip somewhere new. We’ve gotten into a monotonous rhythm of going to work, going to the same parks, making dinner, going to bed, and doing it all over again. I also thought it might be fun for Steve to have a “Yes Day”, an entire day where he gets to make all the decisions and I just tag along.

I make most of the decisions for our family because 1) I have anxiety, 2) I have strong opinions and 3) sometimes it’s just easier for Steve to go along with my flow than to fight me on every turn. It must be hard for him to always be thinking about keeping my triggers at bay, so that I may have one less panic attack during the day.

Turns out, “Yes Day” was a huge success. We had a beautiful Saturday in Lakeside, MI, where Steve wanted to spend the day. The weather was gorgeous, the water was warm, and the crowds were not too bad. And to my word, I went with the flow. Sure, triggers popped up occasionally but I told myself that it was “all good”. My new mantra to remind myself that everything - good or bad - is ultimately a good learning.

And when I go with the flow, the world seems to flow with me.

I let Bub have a cinnamon roll for breakfast, which he tried to devour like a dog.

“Come on, Mom. Follow me.”

He found some rocks that he wanted to put in my pocket to throw into the water later.

Three big rocks in each pocket

Building sand castles

Lakeside, MI is Steve’s happy place. I can see why.

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.