I, like most moms, cram five days worth of stuff into one day. I work part-time which basically means anytime I can. I feel constantly behind because I only have a few days of childcare each week, so I’m often stuck catching up during naptimes and bedtime and weekends. This makes it sound awful, but I love this setup because I’m maximizing my time with my toddler, which is the most important part of my life right now.
However…sometimes it doesn’t leave any brain space for the extra domestic labor of planning a trip. Add to that the constant drumbeat of “unprecedented” political and economic events and wow, I am exhausted.
I’m sure many of you are feeling like this, too.
This Patagonia trip took months of planning and training and I still can’t believe it was five years ago, and that I’m probably not going back anytime soon.
I hate feeling like I need to choose. I literally used to read guidebooks and plan bucket-list itineraries for fun—yes, it’s all in a Google doc to be used someday because that’s who I am—but right now, for this summer, I decided to do something radical: Saying no to big trips.
I want to say yes. I want to want to say yes.
I know, I know. This is a travel website. I am supposed to inspire you! But my doomscroll often makes me feel like I’m not doing “enough” because we’re not sucking it up and going to amazing playgrounds in Switzerland or zip-lining in Costa Rica. Of course I’d rather be adventuring all over the world, but right now, it’s more important to do what’s right for my toddler, and what’s right for me.
Consider this your permission slip to do the same.
Find the point.
Besides the very obvious financial reason why I’m not interested in a bigger trip right now, I think flying halfway across the world misses the point of our particular toddler stage a little bit.
I recently tried to take my toddler to some of the 250th anniversary celebrations in Massachusetts—for several weeks in April almost every town had a Revolutionary War re-enactment or an extra-special parade or something else very exciting. I chose Concord’s parade and decided to brave the crowds and the fact that the roads were shut down because we could park and take the commuter rail or a shuttle bus in; so we did.
Except we completely missed the parade.
By the time our train dropped us into the center of Concord, and by the time I got my bearings and we waved goodbye to the train conductor and by the time we said hi to a policeman and by the time we touched a gigantic snowplow blocking the road…the parade had moved on. There was nothing to see and people began to disperse. I wanted to cry, all that logistical and emotional stress for n o t h i n g.
My toddler, though, thank goodness, started vibrating, telling me all about the train and the policeman and the snowplow and how this was THE BEST DAY EVER. Here I was, missing the entire point: To have a great day with my toddler.
So we did. It was that first spring day where it’s actually hot, sunglasses on and daffodils in every yard. I met a friend at the playground instead of trying to find another spot to watch the parade and the kids took off their shoes and ran around giggling, over and under and around the slide.
It was great. And I almost missed it because it wasn’t what I planned.
Intention matters.
What does this have to do with big trips? I’m defining a “big trip” as one that requires a multi-hour flight to another time zone, the kind where you’re away 5+ days. The question I ask myself is: Can I have a great time if we’re halfway around the world…just on another playground?
I’m not sure the answer is always yes.
This isn’t even thinking about tantrums and all the other logistical (and tbh, physical) effort it takes to go somewhere. Whenever I plan a trip, I’m thinking about why we want to go. For our spring break, for example, the point was to relax, which is why we didn’t try to do anything besides the beach. Why do you want to go on this trip?
For so many years, the answer has been: To learn something new. To immerse myself in another culture. To push my body’s limits in a wild place.
What I’m planning instead for the summer
This summer has been all about staying home and taking it slow. And there is still SO much time left this summer for these long, lazy days. Don’t let back to school and Halloween marketing make you feel otherwise! Eat a peach dripping juice over the sink and remember what season we are in.
Because toddlers, they know how to slow down. They notice stuff you miss, they memorize the names of flowers or dinosaurs like nobody’s business, they want to wander. This is my favorite part of outings, actually, to see what they hang on to versus what I planned. Sometimes, that’s exactly what you need to savor a destination. For me, right now, it’s helping me learn to love where I live that much more.
Immediately after this photo was taken, my toddler flopped down and smelled the flowers for a half hour. Talk about slowing down!
Consider this your permission to say no, too. It’s not like we don’t have bigger trips coming up—we will travel later this year and early next year. But right now? I just want to enjoy where we live.
It’s okay to make the most of what makes your town or city special: Your library, your playground, your coffeeshop. I’m so excited for more time outside, more hikes, more lazy water table afternoons in the backyard. This summer, we’ve stayed much closer to home. We’ve gone hiking, and blueberry picking, and to the beach. But we’ll also just…chill. Summer is the best time to be in New England, and so that’s where we’ll be, too.
Thanks for being here.
Marathon training in Paris made for the best day exploring the city, with stops for mid-run croissants and to catch my breath at the L’Orangerie.
This is an odd topic for a travel website, I know. But I want to push back against the doomscroll a little bit. I’ve got too many influencers on my feeds showing this highlight reel of luxury resorts and toddlers in far-flung locations this summer and I just don’t think I could brave the crowds and go to Paris and be satisfied with a morning on a playground when the Louvre is right there.
I know we’ll get back to this kind of travel in just a few years. But maybe you’re in this too, like: I want to want to book a big trip right now, but instead, I find myself browsing Airbnbs on the coastline or cabins near large trail networks an hour’s drive away. Or calling up family members and picking a date to come visit. I need more easy in my life right now…someday those big trips will be there, and we’ll be ready.
Permission slip to do less signed, sealed, delivered,
Kayla
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This post was originally published on Travel with Toddlers. Subscribe for more real-talk travel advice, toddler-friendly itineraries, and tried-and-true gear recommendations.
