This Just Makes Sense

All kinds of people do it. They blog about it. They write books about it. This is not so crazy. It's almost normal to want to travel the United States in an RV. And for Dan and I, this just makes sense. Maybe I had some trouble expressing the idea to him at first, but now I can see that we were meant for this trip. It's our epic journey. It's our "big thing."

To learn something about people, you only have to take a look at their past actions. Back in college we took road trips to Florida, Texas and Canada. For our honeymoon we drove from Ohio to Maine, stopping only in a parking lot to sleep. Early in our marriage Dan took summer trips with friends, trying to hit as many baseball stadiums as his vacations days and our budget would allow. We are roadtrip people. This just makes sense.

31 Favorite Things

"Imagine all the things we can do during the trip," I said to the kids one Saturday afternoon during lunch. What followed was a frenzied discussion on all the things we love to do as a family. Swimming at the pool, a pond. Fishing. Bike riding. Visiting friends. Playing at the park. Making cookies. Roasting marshmallows. Bowling.

As we shouted out our favorites, Abby started counting. Playing catch, 25. Playing tag, 26, Going to the movies, 27. "Mom, we've got to write these down," she said. We're up to 31 things.

"These are our favorite things," 3-year old Carter said. "That's right, honey," I agreed.

Later that night when I was putting Carter to bed, he had not forgotten about all the fun we'd planned for the trip. There are three songs he likes to hear at bedtime: the ABC's, "Santa Clause is Coming to Town," and "Favorite Things." Before I started singing he asked

"Mommy, can you sing OUR favorite things in the song?"

Before She Grows Up

Maybe it will happen next year, possibly the year after that. My 9-year old daughter will start that separation thing. It's natural, it's okay. I understand it. I know this pre-teen thing must run its course all the way through high school. But my little girl will be a different person by then. She won't say "Mommy, can you wash my hair?" or "Mommy, let's make a craft together." She won't ride bikes with us after supper or go to the drive-in movies or plant a garden with me anymore. I have just a year or two more to connect with this girl. Or to make an impression on her. Here's what I'd like her to know before that happens.

I'll always be there for you. I do want to spend more time with you. Your ideas are great. I'm so glad I have you in my life. I've learned so much from you.

After making this realization just months ago, I knew I had to spend as much time as I possibly could with her. A year-long trip around the country is the perfect opportunity to connect with my little girl before she grows up.

Remember That Year

In 20 years, my husband and I will be in our 50s. The kids will be 29 and 23.

Here's a little dream I have:

I can see Dan and I sitting on the patio of a summer rental on the East Coast with the kids. Maybe there are some grandchildren tucked in bed. It's late in the evening. We can see the ocean from where we all sit. We can hear it. It's been a long time since the four of us have sat listening to the ocean.

Carter speaks up. "I remember that year," he says. "I was pretty little but I remember it. Going to the beach always reminds me of Family Year. We went to so many cool beaches. Ya know, that was one of the best years of my childhood," he says.

"Oh, definitely the best," Abby says. "Mom and Dad took us everywhere in America in our RV. It was more than beaches. We saw it all. I loved that trip."

That's my dream. I want the kids to remember next year as the best year of their childhood. The one Mom and Dad spent the whole year with them, experiencing the wonders of America. The one we spent learning together, playing together, eating ALL our meals together, and growing up together. Our year, Family Year. That's what I want for the four of us more than anything.