Travel Archives - Page 10 of 37 - Enjoying the Small Things

The Way There

July 5, 2016 By Kelle

It’s been a week since we hit the road. In 7 days we’ve traveled over 1,600 miles and made stops in Atlanta, Helen, Nashville, Noblesville and Lansing before finally landing in Northern Michigan yesterday afternoon. The sliding door of our van opened after our 2-honk “We’re here!”, and spring-loaded children shot out to hug their Poppa, claim their beds and reinstate the footprints they left last summer in this place we love so much.

Me? I took the drink my dad handed me, scanned the mess in the backseat, and took a long deep inhale of Michigan air. I smell it all–the maples, the pines, the lake, the firewood pile, the dirt, the promise of adventure and rest and memories.

As any good destination goes, you cannot just arrive…you have to get there. Through time and messes and miles and crying and figuring things out. Like how to get a little boy to stop unbuckling his car seat while we’re driving. I’ll tell you how. Thanks to my brilliant niece who thought of it, it takes a call from “Officer Roberts”–a.k.a. Uncle Bubby–who piped in on speaker phone and gave a come-to-Jesus talk about safety that only a stern cop could give. Let’s just say Officer Roberts has become a familiar reference since.

Needless to say, the trip wasn’t always easy, but I’d do it again and again for the memories.

Some snippets of adventures along the way…

One of our Spark Retreat attendees sent this Open Road candle to me for our trip. I’ve taken it into every stop along the way to add a homey touch.

Our cabin in Cleveland, Georgia–just outside of Helen where we river-tubed the Chattahoochee again but, other than that, didn’t leave our cabin because we loved it so much.

Nella and I woke up early at the mountain cabin and watched the sun rise together from a rocking chair on the back porch–one of my favorite moments from the trip. I sipped my coffee, stretching my arm around her to meet my cup to my mouth and tried to melt into the spiritual moment, but all I could think about was how I much I wished I wouldn’t have passed on our rocking chair so early because I’ve missed so much magic that comes from a kid on your lap and the hypnotizing rhythm of slowly rocking, rocking, rocking… Finished nursing and thinking of getting rid of that rocking chair in your nursery? Don’t do it. Rock ’em until their legs are dangling awkwardly over yours, and there’s no place for their head to rest, and there’s not a single corner in the house for the bulky old chair to go. Keep rocking.

Pancake breakfast…because Syrup is the foundation of vacation meals.

The first photo of our summer project…writing Dash’s picture book, a Nella & Maude adventure for him and his long-neck friend, Isaac.

Our #2 road trip rule: Stop at scenic overlooks. (#1 of course being “Buckle up because Officer Roberts said so.”)

Pappy’s Trading Post, just outside of Helen, GA. Quite possibly the weirdest road trip adventure yet and definitely not a place I’d want to be alone at night (the hearse, the hundreds of old mannequins…). There was hardly anyone there outside of the mannequins and when I finally found a real person behind the ice cream stand, I had to ask her if she was alive or if it was all, as I suspected, a ghost town. Super cool though–interesting, colorful, out-of-the box art everywhere.

Cabin Coffee Co. sandwich and coffee shop, downtown Blairsville, GA–so kid friendly. The kids loved the little tables and saddles to sit on–and cowboy hats to borrow.

Ocoee River, Cherokee National Forest–somewhere between Helen, GA and Nashville, TN

A quick stop at Dinosaur World outside of Louisville, KY. We saw a huge Tyrannosaurus and a sign for it on the side of the expressway and pulled off to visit. Nella didn’t want anything to do with going inside though, so my niece stayed with her in the car while Dash and I walked around outside to explore. Pretty cool for a right-off-the-expressway adventure.

A Tale of Two Vacationers

March 21, 2016 By Kelle

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times… Why yes. Yes I did just start this with a horrendously overused Dickens quote. But the title–it matched.

We’re talking vacation. Best in that time off, perfectly packed suitcases, planned adventures, and all these little dreams of sun and water and skipping across beaches without a care in the world is what we live for, right? Worst in that vacationing with kids might actually be harder than living with kids. Or as Brett so eloquently put it on the beach the other day as Dash flung sand across a 6-yard radius, Nella collapsed crying and we calculated how much time we had to scout out a family-friendly lunch spot before the kids’ low blood sugar demons emerged from their holes: “What about this trip is supposed to be relaxing?”

And I, the rainbow unicorn of the family, pointed out six things about the situation that are awesome because that’s what I’m annoyingly programmed to do: “But they’re making such great memories (1)! And it’s good for us to get away together (2). And the kids will sleep so great tonight (3)! Plus we’re teaching our kids to explore and enjoy their world (4). And Nella–you know these experiences are so good for her (5). And look at this sky, it’s gorgeous, this is so much fun–just ride the wave, Brett (6)! At which point, I’m certain he imagined a great white flinging himself on shore and dragging me out to sea.

The thing is, we are two completely different vacationers. Brett ‘s like—wait, what’s super chill and relaxed? Bob Marley? Half-conscious Bob Marley? Bob Marley passed out in bed with ear plugs? Yes that. Wait, Heidi’s in my kitchen and pointed out that I can’t say Bob Marley because people are going to think Brett’s “smoking reefers.”

“Maybe make a point to say that’s not why Brett’s so chill,” she suggests. “How about Brett’s Bob Marley minus the reefer?” But then Bob Marley’s not so relaxed then, is he? Let’s go with Enya. Brett is Enya. This is terrible, my analogy game is going to the dogs. Let’s just keep it simple: Brett is chill.

Me? I’m a bit more of an “AT DAWN, WE RISE!” kind of vacationer. I treat the places we visit like the people I meet: I want to know you. Not surface here’s-the-postcard-version-of-me, but your real story. What’s your history? Show me your colors, your secret coffee shops, the things you’re most proud of, the corners you keep hidden. You don’t get to know a city watching movies in a rented house. No! You get to know a city by packing up the car at dawn and driving to all the destinations—with the windows down and the wind in your hair.

I’m aware I made my vacation mode sound superior, so now I’ll give Brett’s some love to be fair: Imagine getting away from busy day-to-day life in search of peace only to be met with a busy day-to-day vacation. Plus everybody loves Bob Marley, so he totally has that.

This is the Dichotomy of Us, on vacation, in life. Early Riser marries Night Owl. Set Sail meets Anchor at the Dock. It is the death of us, it is the LIFE of us. When the chain of my Yin bike has broken because I pedaled too damn hard and fast, his Yang bike pulls up and I hop on. In case you were wondering, and since I’m a visual person–his Yang bike looks like this. Go ahead, click on it. Didn’t know biking could be so relaxing, did you? Brett would like to add that his bike also has a cooler and a big screen TV bungee-corded to the front.

“But then how are you going to see where you’re going?” I ask.
“It pops up when you stop at the park to rest,” he adds. Of course. Rest stops. I should have known.

A lengthy prologue and wayward digression from the whole point of this post–our spring break trip to Tampa.

So how does one do a family vacation then when you mix a Sit, Stay, Sleep parent with a Go, See, Conquer one? The same way we do life–with frustration and exhaustion and do-overs but also humor and grace, meeting in the middle, and goodness, such a deepening love for the rough edges that are real life.

Alligator reflection at Florida Aquarium. Yin and Yang, baby.

We’ve found a few things that work for us. I am a morning person and Brett loves to sleep in. On vacations, I don’t mind taking the kids out early on my own in the morning and giving Brett his quiet alone time. And we were fortunate on this trip to have my niece (my first baby love!) with us, so we did morning excursions on our own–finding the best breakfast gems hidden in the city (The Blind Tiger!), taking walks through the neighborhood (Seminole Heights, you sweet charming little chunk of earth!), scouting out the closest park.

Also, I think this is a good place to make a very important declaration. Ready? Here goes: Sweet baby Jesus, there is a doughnut in this world that will take you to other places. Unicorn places. Places that blur your vision and make you smile without knowing you’re smiling. Put Tampa Dough in your GPS and start driving there, no matter how many miles. Just drive. Order the creme brulee doughnut. Shut your eyes when you take your first bite. You will see God. Also the French Toast one is great and so is the maple bacon and okay the S’mores one too. Yes, I tried all four.

This is what I love about traveling to places even just a little bit far away from home: my taste buds open up. I wake up a little bit more.

To new and unfamiliar….

Magic that glows, Florida Aquarium

But also to things I think I know…our comfortable familiar. I love viewing my family from the eyes of a tourist:

That big sister. She’s so caring. Aware. Look at her quietly take in her world. My, what a deep thinker she must be.

So gentle and patient. An old soul, isn’t she?

And the one with braids. An eager little learner.

That wonder, that enthusiasm. I want that!

Oh, and that little one.

What a hoot. I bet he keeps his parents on their toes.
But look harder…some spirit that kid has got. My goodness, he’s going to make good use of that in the world, isn’t he?

And would you look at that dad? He’s got a story, I’m sure.

Watch him talk to his kids. Now that’s a feeling.

Somewhere in the scope of even a short four-day vacation, I get lost and am found in the magic of the rough but also glittery edges.

The corners where We’re-Losing-It meet We’ve-Found-It.
Where I’m-Sorry kisses I-Forgive-You.
And I’m-Tired hugs I-Could-Do-This-All-Day.

Home is a beautifully complex noun. And stepping out together with your family–anywhere–is a great way to both solidify and expand what home means.

What I know to be true:

Home and Family are like Art: Exquisite and limitless and begging to be explored in new ways.

Have kite, will travel. Curtis Hixon Waterfront Park.

Tampa glitter:

Oxford Exchange…a truly sensory experience for a meal. Shop, drop, eat, and roll.

One thing we’ve figured out: Pick one thing. An aquarium, a zoo, a park, a show, a museum. Just one big thing a day. Keep standards reasonable. Show up and be amused, entertained, inspired by the little things. Stay flexible. It also worked really well this trip to make lunch our big meal out and then stay in and cook dinner at the house we rented (first time using Airbnb–we found the sweetest deal on a family-friendly, character-filled home in a charming neighborhood). The kids did better eating out during the day, and the home environment at night was great for winding down and chill time…with Bob Marley.

We all loved visiting the Florida Aquarium again…

…and Glazer Children’s Museum. We stayed until closing.

Note: I’ve become the worst mom for playing restaurant. I used to be really good at it, but now I feel compelled to say things like “Is this gluten free?” “Could you toast this a little darker?” “Are these tomatoes local?” “Is there MSG in this?” maybe because I never say those things in real life. It confuses the kids and they end up yanking the rubber sandwiches away from me and serving them to someone else. At which point I yell “ONLY TWO STARS IN MY REVIEW!” which only confuses them more.

I behaved like a proper and good mom at the indoor beach though.

The kids’ favorites?

Most definitely the fountains next to the Children’s Museum…

…neighborhood walks to Starbucks.

…and spa night.

And mama’s favorites?

Watching love.

Dash finds dead lizards. Always. And talks to them.

At dawn, we rise. At night, we retreat. And in the middle…we love.

Happy Monday and Happy World Down Syndrome Day, a celebration of a journey that is really just another kind of vacation.

Epilogue/Prologue

January 4, 2016 By Kelle

Happy New Year! I’m hoping your new year opened like a box of new crayons or a fresh jar of peanut butter…promising, with colorful sharp points and a delicious buttery swirl. (If not–no worries. Nobody tells you this but, psssttt….the broken crayons color just as good and the bottom of the peanut butter jar holds treasures too.)

The speed of which January arrives never fails to amaze me. In fact, I’ve enlisted Dash to demonstrate my feelings on December 1st – December 31 with a photo I’ve titled “Whee! That was fast” He was all in.

Thank you, Dash. That was beautiful. Now go play with some trucks, and I’ll be with you in a minute.

Our tree is still up and the mantle garland is twinkling away. Normally, I’m itching to get everything cleaned up and out of here come January 1st because wreaths and bottle brush trees feel like depressing clutter after the new year, but this year? I’m grabbing this whole thing by the reins and showing it who’s boss. Here’s how it goes now:

1. I’m in charge of my feelings. I say what’s cozy and what’s clutter, not the last person who told me she just cleaned her entire house and threw her tree out to the curb because “NEW BEGINNING” and definitely not that 99 cent plastic tree collecting dust. I can do what I want, I set the tone and that tree in the corner there is smiling at me. Besides, National Treasure is on T.V. and I don’t really feel like wrapping up ornaments tonight.

2. The twinkle lights stay. Somehow, some way. We’ll weave them into spring decor, summer decor, fall decor. But I need them. So they stay.

Now that that’s out of the way…we went on a trip. It’s become an annual thing now with our neighbors–our way of ringing/wringing–ringing in the new year together and wringing out every last drop of the holidays, plus Brett’s end-of-the-year time off. I look forward to it all year long. It’s short–three days–and it’s woven with lots of very unmagical realistic moments. But there’s something about it that’s really special. It’s both the epilogue trip of a closing year and the prolgue to a new one, and somewhere between leaning back to pass another fruit snack on the way up in 2015 and pulling that car seat strap back to nipple-height on the way home in 2016, I tie up the strings to a full year in my brain. This is it, man. These loose laces on scuffed shoes passed down from your sister, this cracker-littered van, that graying hair, those sun-kissed shoulders, the hands on that steering wheel–the ones that still make me feel safe and secure, that little footprint in the sand–filling twice the space it did two years ago, that attitude, that vocabulary, that look in your eyes that brings me to my knees, that cowlick in your hair–same as the day you were born, this aging skin, this feeling of your hand in mine, this head on my shoulder, these friends, this toast, this year, this trip, these plans, these memories, this shredded patience, this hope, this grateful heart, this perfect moment…this is it. Another year, and I’m so thankful to have lived it messily and fully.

We went to Orlando this year with our hotel reservations our only confirmed plans. Maybe we’ll check out Disney, maybe we’ll hit Universal, maybe we’ll go explore the city. We ended up never leaving our resort as it had a built-in water park, playground, restaurants…and everyone was happy.

One of my favorite vacation rites of passage? Mini cereal boxes. Every time I pack food for a trip, I splurge on the tiny cereal boxes. My kids think they are about the most precious things in the world.

Other big and small things enjoyed…

Gold & Sparkle.
Nella’s dress is a $12 women’s tank, and I added a tie-on Peter Pan collar that we already had. She puts that tank on now every day. Dash said “Happy New Year” to every person we encountered on the trip.