"Lessons from the Road"

This article, writen by Lucy McCauley for Mothering, is time-appropriate for our family and true enough that I thought it'd be nice to share (I just would like her to update this when she travels with two sippy-cup toting toddlers):

When my daughter, Hannah, was a year-and-a-half old, I took her with me on a trip to Spain. On day one, at the Prado Museum in Madrid, I found myself waiting behind a crowd that had gathered around The Garden of Earthly Delights, Hieronymus Bosch's Medieval triptych. I had Hannah in her stroller, and after a while she got fussy. People shot looks our way. Soon she began to cry, the sound reverberating against the walls and lofty museum ceiling. While she was effectively clearing the room, I found her sippy cup, and she began to drink happily. We neared the painting at last, and that's when, with all her might, my little darling flung that same sippy cup into the air—directly at the painting.

I suppose that, for her, the action was a delightful experiment in cause and effect: Throw object. See what priceless artwork object lands on. But for me it was a long, agonizing moment in slow-mo: a half-sippy cup of milk arcing toward the painting, my arm grasping at air to intercept the travesty. Hannah was about to cover Bosch's sublime masterpiece with a Pollack-like overlay of milk-splatterings. I could picture the guards hauling us away to jail or wherever they put art vandals. Mercifully, the sippy cup missed—and the guard was looking the other way.

Lesson learned: Don't give baby a sippy cup near a world art treasure. Better yet, save museum-going for when your child has fallen asleep in her stroller. But the real point of my story is that there comes a moment for every traveling parent, as it did for me that day in the Prado, when you wonder: What am I doing on the road with this pint-sized sojourner? When did travel become nice views and bits of culture sandwiched in between feedings and diaper changes? You think back fondly to your student backpacking days, or to that excursion to Mexico before you had kids—adventure, fun, unfettered spontaneity, pure relaxation—all distant memories now, changed forever by the presence of these small, sippy cup-throwing travel companions.

But what I discovered during the rest of that trip—several weeks of travel on trains and buses, in and out of cathedrals and more museums—was that children do alter many aspects of travel, and not necessarily for the worse. It all depends on how you view it. If travel is about embracing the journey—and let's hope that it is—rather than simply consuming a destination, then surely our little ones keep things on the road interesting. Having kids in tow creates circumstances in which we'll likely encounter that intangible thing I think we all yearn for when traveling: transformative moments.

Children absolutely force us to be in the moment, which is where transformation begins. They make us stop and look around, even when we're intent on getting someplace else. They notice things. They call our attention to what we adults wouldn't see otherwise—that alien-like purple fruit in the open-air market or the polka dots someone has painted on the side of a building—as well as things we would rather not notice ("Why is that man spraying the wall with his pee-pee, Mommy?"). And because kids inevitably draw people to them, we have experiences we wouldn't otherwise have. We talk to locals we might have felt too shy or awkward to approach on our own. Kids force us to slow down, simply because they can't always keep up, or because they need to sleep or play or use the potty. A child beside us ensures that we'll be spontaneous and flexible—and that creates a space where magic can happen.

For me at the Prado that day, given that my daughter's milk didn't actually collide with a precious painting, and I didn't go to jail, we ended up enjoying the afternoon with a Spanish mama and toddler that we met in the museum. The mom had witnessed the scene and, feeling sympathetic to my utter horror at what nearly occurred, struck up a conversation and invited us for coffee and some play in the park behind the museum.

Ultimately, did I have the kind of adventure I'd hoped for, the kind I'd had in college or in the years before I added a Hello Kitty bag to my luggage? No, I didn't. But I did have a wonderful trip that was—yes—transformative. On our final day in Madrid, when I was trying to get us out the door to see some last sites, my daughter stopped me mid-motion. Unceremoniously plopping her little bum on my lap, she sat looking out the balcony windows, contentedly drinking from her sippy cup, as if we had nothing else to do. When I tried to move and get us both up and going, I was stopped by the sheer pressure of her body—and by the view in front of me, which I hadn't taken time to really notice before.

Two windows opened onto a wrought-iron balcony and a clear-skied fall morning in Madrid. Sunlight played on an ancient, five-story, ochre-stained building across the way. Each floor had balconies, and the shades were pulled out and over them—how the Spanish let in the air and keep out the sun. The scent of café con leche wafted up from the streets below, and I could hear people greeting one another in staccato phrases as they passed by.

We sat a long time gazing out that window, my baby and I, taking it all in as if we had nowhere else in the world to be, as if we had come all the way to Spain for just that moment. And in a way, I guess you could say we had.

Lucy McCauley is a travel writer and editor of the annual Best Women's Travel Writing (Travelers' Tales/Solas House).

What about the Kids?

Matt and I are taking the kids to Bavaria in the near future. Yesterday, we spent the morning (while the kids made art projects) writing out our itinerary/trip plan.

It became apparent right away that Matt and I had different interests. In fact, I think my DH travels differently than most men. Most military men, at least. You see, he's read WWII history books by the dozens (as I have), he's studied world history. He's certainly very passionate about it. However, the lure of the mountains and outdoors has a much bigger pull than any battlefield, museum, or historical marker, in general. It's a little mind boggling to me. However, I'm respecting it more and more. Recently, we've been to Spain and Italy. Hiking or fishing or anything to do with being in the wilderness was not on our "to do" list. He's felt a little jipped. Though, he's kept quiet about it, for the most part. He's certainly earned brownie points, in my book, for being dragged around to places that interest me alone.

DH has wanted to climb or spend time outdoors alone since he got back from Iraq over a year ago. While he did spend a little time in Denali National Park with his brother last summer, and a little time fishing, it just wasn't enough. Knowing he's been itching to get outside, I came up with a plan in my head and shared it with him yesterday.

Since we're going to be staying in a place that can provide all-day childcare for our girls, we booked three days of "school" as Olivia likes to call it. When I proposed to Matt that he take one of those days to go off by himself while I did a tour, he gently asked if he could have two days, instead of one. At first, I was taken back. Then, I realized that he more than deserves it. Finally, a vacation where he could enjoy some alone time doing the things he loves! I was more than willing to oblige!

Knowing there was another tour that interest me, I got on the phone early this morning and booked the girls for another day at "school." That enabled me to book another tour while Matt had his second day to himself. While on the phone with the childcare center, I asked if they had babysitters available. Sure enough, they do!! Matt had also hinted that he would love to have dinner without the kids one night.

Now, you're thinking, "What horrible parents! Going on vacation and dumping their kids in childcare!"

Well, we love traveling with our kids. However, we've kinda had our fill. During the last trip, we had a kid with a fever and diarrhea. During the trip before, it was a bit rainy and cool. The girls were grumpy and tired the whole time. Lila was still at the two-nap stage and Olivia still could not function without her afternoon nap. We rushed through everything, feeling like we barely saw anything. I can't even count how many lunch and dinners were ruined by crying, screaming, overtired and misbehaved toddlers. We'll look back later on with fond memories. Right now, it's a little too soon to do that.

Of course, we do have time with the kids built in to our trip plan. We're taking them to the "princess castle" pictured above (not my picture, obviously), a wilderness refuge and hiking into a gorge. There will also be plenty of time at restaurants, parks and the swimming pool. Besides, they'll have so much more fun playing with kids their own age for a good part of the week than they would be dragged around to, say, beer halls or a concentration camp. You also may be thinking, "What the heck is this going to cost them to put kids in childcare?" It'll cost a heck of a lot less than taking a babysitter with us or asking a grandparent or two to come and help out. It will also be our last trip for about a year (aside from a trip home this summer, courtesy the U.S. Military).

Here's what Matt and I are looking forward to:

• Matt: Canyoning
• Matt: Hiking and/or River Rafting
• Natalie: Reading a book, undisturbed, as the tour bus takes me to two destinations.
• Natalie: Having "mommy relaxation time" during a spa treatment or two.
• Dinner out, alone with my DH (On vacation with kids? This will be a first) and then walking around town hand in hand, without the kids. Jeez, it'll be like a second honeymoon!
• Two whole days out without the kids to tour around together at our own pace. No rushing to take a toddler pee, no changing diapers, no rushing through lunch because two said toddlers are falling apart from exhaustion. No changing our plan because the kids are too tired to go any further.
• Enjoying a dip in the hot tub together, without the kids trying to get in to join us.

Of course, we know that all this is subject to change if someone gets sick. I'm trying to not think too much about that, however! Though, in the back of my mind, I'm not allowing myself to get too excited. After all, we are traveling with toddlers. You have to be open to change-of-plans! For right now, our plan is looking pretty good!

Arraiolos, Portugal

Recently, I overheard some wives talking about their recent trip to Arraiolos to look at, help design and order hand stitched, Portuguese wool carpets. Interested, I sought out the significance, history of and design of these carpets. Apparently, every family has these carpets on their list of "must haves" before they PCS.

Arraiolos is the little town where much of these carpets are hand stitched - most by women working out of their homes. Historians don't really know, exactly, how long women have been making these rugs. It is believed that they learned the craft from the Moors, who dominated the Iberian Peninsula into the 13th century. The New York Times published an informative article about these rugs in 1985. Upon reading the article, I thought the shopping information must be outdated. It was not.

Arraiolos is a clean, quintessential town with whitewashed and blue-trimmed buildings. There isn't much English spoken there. But, hand jesters and very elementary Portuguese will do until you reach the more well-known shops, where catering to English clientele is more evident (along with prices a little bit higher than the smaller shops).

Many of the rugs made in this town (and the town of Oporto) are sold to American stores. One well-known retailer of the rugs is Pottery Barn.

What I didn't know, before arriving to this town, was that these women don't just make carpets. They make wall tapestries, pillow cases and more. In fact, most shops will take a picture, painting or drawing that you have and custom make whatever you want. Or, you can choose a design they have in the store and have the colors changed to your liking. The possibilities are endless.

A friend and I walked around and looked at different designs and tapestry artwork. I think I'd like to buy a rug similar to the yellow/green/red one shown in the picture above. I would also like to take a picture of the Portuguese countryside. Specifically, a scene of grazing sheep, their caretaker and wildflowers, such as poppies, and have it made into a wall tapestry. If I had a great picture of cattle instead, I could have the tapestry maker use the picture as a guide and stitch the cattle into sheep instead.

Artwork is currently priced a 100 euro per square meter. So, I have time to snap pictures and save my money before making a purchase at some point in the next year or two.

Olivia enjoys a light splash from the water garden

This trip was to view the town, browse the shops for design and items for future purchases, and taste the local wine and gastronomy. Once again, Portugal did not disappoint.