The Truth About Traveling With A Toddler (Portugal Part 2)
I can’t swim
She has my arms
my eyes
my focus
And yet
I am still
at the ocean
I write this with just a week left in our trip. Lu’s cut is healing nicely, my pants are fitting a bit more snug and after an eleven pound drop and emergency visit to the hospital (am I next!?), Jake is finally able to enjoy the Portuguese cuisine with me. The weather has even turned in our favor with clear skies and warm sunny days, allowing us to make up for the missed time exploring the coastline here; by foot, car and boat, we are eager to see where we are from as many angles as we can.
I first considered writing about all of the expected and unexpected logistics while traveling with a toddler, but with the many, and much more experienced, parent travel bloggers out there, and my desire to talk more about feelings (shocker) and less about diapers and packing cubes, I thought I’d go a little deeper. Side note: Definitely find those parent travel blogs if you plan to travel with your kid(s), they’re pros and the information is so helpful. I mentioned in the last post, “The Truth About Discomfort (Portugal Part 1)”, that Jake and I fully anticipated this trip to look and feel much different than our travels before Luna. I want share how I’ve experienced travel as a new mom of a young child.
A heads up, I refer to “mother” throughout this post because that’s what I connect to most, but it works for all parent figures, so feel free to replace my word with yours.
For me, there have been two key differences between travel before I was a mother and travel as a mother with my child:
Travel has always refreshed me with the rediscovered perspective that there is life beyond my own; a new lens to peer into life with. Traveling as a mother, especially as new mom with a young child, requires the travel to accommodate your life, therefore maintaining a familiar lens.
Travel has always encouraged me to rediscover myself by stepping beyond who I am back at home; a special kind of clean slate to be more bold, to try out another side of myself who I don’t visit often. Traveling with your child does not give you as much flexibility to do this because you continue wearing your identity as mother (unless you’re brave enough to find a babysitter or daycare in the place you’re traveling to, which I was not).
You may be thinking that traveling as a parent with your kid sounds kind of lame, frustrating or even pointless. There certainly have been moments during our trip when it has felt lame and frustrating, but I wouldn’t say any of this has been pointless.
Even during the dinners when one of us has had to walk around with Lu while the other one eats or not catching the sunset because of bedtime duties or the interrupted conversation with folks from interesting places and backgrounds, it is all part of the journey at this point in our lives. It is our story, our growth and our adventure.
And as I walk through the cobblestone streets, the stroller gently bouncing with Lu squirming inside, I pass other mothers with their strollers, with their babies. And there’s this brief moment, that honestly chokes me up right there on the street, when our eyes meet and we give a warm facial gesture. No words. Sometimes, not even a smile. Just a deep understanding for one another, that all of this is incredibly special and challenging and beautiful. Across languages, believes and backgrounds, we are with our baby. And that is exactly where we want to be. Well, most of the time ;)
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