When I was growing up, our family did something super special. My grandparents had a motor home, and every other summer, they took all the grandkids 8 years old and up on a month-long motor home trip. Now----when you're a child, you have no idea that this is actually
completely insane. First of all, most grandparents would be positively overwhelmed taking care of a dozen kids, 24 hours a day, for an entire month. Not to mention the logistics of meals, museums, hikes, excursions, campgrounds... I cannot begin to imagine the hours of preparation my grandparents took to plan the details of these trips! But because of them, I look back at my childhood with so much gratitude. At a very young age, I was taught to look at nature with awe, to see God's hand in the world He created for us, to love my grandparents with a fierceness most people will never know, to thoroughly enjoy museums and the reading of every plaque at a national park, to appreciate the outdoors, and to genuinely love my cousins and siblings.
I'm determined to instill all of this in my children somehow, too.
On our drive home from Utah last summer, Kyle told me that he had never been to my favorite national parks, so I determined right then and there that we would knock two off our list by the next calendar year. So I did that thing I do, and started planning...
Airbnb is THE way to travel as a family. I cannot imagine anything more tortuous than carrying four sleeping children and all of our luggage through a hotel lobby or smelly casino, up an elevator, down that loooong meandering hallway, and squishing all six of us into two starchy queen sized beds. Instead, we pulled up to the house, carried our sleeping children into pretty little beds all fluffy and warm, and went straight to bed! We stayed at the most darling little house in Williams, Arizona, right off Route 66. The home was over 100 years old, with all the charming little details, like Edison light bulbs and antique door knobs--it was adorable.
We left the next morning for the Grand Canyon Railway, an old train that leaves from Williams each morning, and brings you back in the evening. The train ride was two hours long, but included entertainment for the kids all along the way. There were musicians, coloring books, actors playing characters from the Wild West, and views of the Arizona desert through great, glass windows.
We arrived late-morning at the Grand Canyon. As we walked up to the viewing area, London was the most vocal in her excitement. She gasped, and said, "Mom, oh my gosh! This is so beautiful!"(
--That's right, Honey!!!) I planned a short hike for us to take from the visitor's center. However, something I didn't consider in my preparation was the change in altitude, and how tired it would make four small children. When they could barely make it to the tram without taking several rest stops, Kyle and I had a little pow-wow...Maybe a hike wasn't in the cards for us on this particular trip. We walked back to the rim instead, and took the paved path that winds along the edge of the canyon. I read all the plaques along the way, and we had a really pleasant and beautiful afternoon. It was just as I remembered it, only better somehow, because now I was sharing the canyon with my own little family. Before boarding the return train, I had this not-so-brilliant idea to get the kids ice cream. Yes, the line was long, but I felt
certain we had plenty of time! After getting our ice cream, Kyle and I
ran back to the station, half carrying/half dragging our children on our backs and shoulders, melted ice cream dripping all over the place, especially in Kyle's hair! The doors were already shut when we finally made it to the train car, but I suppose they took pity on us, because they opened the door and let us board. When we were finally seated, all we could do was laugh.
I have a problem.
On the train ride back to Williams, the Marshall, dressed up from his head to his spurs, sat next to London and told her in a deep, Southern accent, "I need your help."
London perked up. If you need London, she's all over it. "Okay!"
"The Cadillac Crew has just escaped from prison. They're a group of train robbers-- bandits!"
London's eyes grew to the size of saucers. "Bandits?" She whimpered.
"If they catch this train, they'll take all our jewelry and money!"
"Oh my gosh." She couldn't breathe.
"Now, if you see them out the window, you let me know."
"Okay." She was frozen with fear.
One minute later, out the left window, appeared two men on horseback, bandannas over their mouths and cowboy hats on their heads.
"Mom?!" In a half-panicked cry.
A voice came over the loud speaker. "We just received word that the Cadillac Crew has escaped from prison. But don't worry. we'll be safe as long as the train keeps moving." Suddenly, the train began to slow. "Oh no," the girl laughed over the intercom,"they're boarding our train! Give them whatever money you'd like. We really appreciate you riding with us today!"
I looked over at London, who had removed both her necklace and her bracelet and had them safely hidden in her pocket. She burst into tears. I pulled her on to my lap. She cried, "No! Mom, they're going to board the train!"
Of course, I was trying my best to reassure her. "Honey, this is just pretend. They aren't real train robbers. They're coming to collect money from people who really enjoyed the train ride!" Nothing worked. The other passengers laughed with delight as the bandits boarded, and happily handed them money, which they placed into cloth bags. London was shaking, and buried her face in my chest.
Afterward, when she would tell the story, she would laugh at herself, and say, "I know it wasn't real! I was just a little scared, that's all!"
Easter morning was slow and relaxing, just the way I wanted it to be. We opened Easter baskets, read their Easter stories, and stopped for breakfast at an old-fashioned country restaurant.
Maaaaajor parenting hack: driving with a training potty in the back of the car. Because let me tell you, no one should ever have to take 2 two-year-olds into a dirty, nasty gas station bathroom every hour to do their business.
"No, don't touch that! No, that's filthy, don't touch that! Don't touch the walls! Don't touch the doors! Don't touch the floor!" We simply pulled off the road, opened the liftgate, set them on the potty one at a time, and then rinsed out the potty in the bushes. 5x faster, 100x cleaner.
Three-year-olds are hilarious. They are also insane. They are in one moment the cutest, sweetest, and most angelic little loves, and in the very next breath, suddenly scream so loud you're convinced you've actually lost an eardrum. I have become a professional manipulator, capable of keeping my cool and diffusing melt-downs, masterfully managing situations where the old Bristyl would've fallen apart. And each time I somehow manage to keep it all together, I feel so good----not because I think anything of myself, but because I can't believe I find so much joy, despite all the chaos, in motherhood.
Are you ready for a laugh? These are a few conversations the twins had last week:
