I hit no one in the head, accidentally or on purpose

I cannot lie, traveling with children was every bit as challenging as I thought it would be.  Or more so. It has taken me three days, and several pots of coffee just to feel like I’ve caught up with life, muchless recovered. But it wasn’t tiring in the ways I thought it would be, which is to say I wasn’t frazzled or harried, irritated or stressed.

I was transported.

I know, I know. It sounds cheesy and ridiculous and you may even not believe me.  Because, more than likely, you’ve traveled with children and, therefore, you know the real truth. But I’m telling you, it was wonderful and it was real.

Already a week ago today, I picked up my cousins on their door step and brought them to my house for the night to prepare for an early flight. I barely slept that night, afraid of not waking up on time and missing our 6:00 a.m. flight. And beyond that, I was nervous for things to go well.  Not go well in the sense of on-time flights, nervous in the sense that I was just certain at some point in the four days someone was going to a) throw up, b) miss their mommy, c) get lost, d) throw up, or e) throw up. From the moment I woke them up at 4:00 in the morning, telling them it was time to go to the airport, they were wired.

They were wired the entire time, really. Mostly because they are so young. I expected that.  What I hadn’t quite comprehended is how wired you must be, at any age, when you are flying on a plane for the first time. When you’re in a rental car for the first time. When you’re in a hotel for the first time. When you see the beach FOR THE FIRST TIME. I expected excitement, interest, enthusiasm even.  What I didn’t expect was the sheer fascination, and the way it would completely grab me right along with them.

That was the tiring part, the part where I’d experienced everything before, and yet was getting to experience it for the first time. Sure, there were times when I had to remind them to use inside voices, but I also had to remind myself that those voices, those reactions, were raw and genuine. And once I got used to it, it was all I could do to not join in with them. Saturday we spent the entire day at the beach, and although everyone knows I’m gratefully no stranger to that, it was brand new at the same time. I had honestly forgotten how incredible the waves are, the stinging taste of saltwater, as they just keep rolling in and out again and again.

For that, I owe my cousins. I am so thankful for this experience, for them teaching me the value in the strange, the frightening, and the new. For reminding me of the lure of adventure and that sometimes, it is perfectly okay to scream out loud when you’re happy.

For them, I pledge to not forget that. I will not forget to be amazed. I will take in my environment. I will find amusement in subtle things. I will be fascinated by seaweed and riding in the front seat. I will complain when it’s time to go to bed, rather than wish I were already in it. I will eat ice cream. I will remember what it feels like to have someone adore me for exactly who I am and assure me that I, in fact, am very cool.