Still Our Life

Here’s the bad news (to anyone out there who thinks we have got it made)…this is still our life. OK, I was clear about this going into it. I knew that this wouldn’t be an escape from our issues or problems. We had several sessions as a couple and with the kids about what our expectations for this trip were and if they were realistic (my son expected it to involve lots of toys). I even talked often about how this was not a vacation. It was a different way of living. That we would just have a different backyard each day, but should not expect constant entertainment and fun. Somewhere along the way this idea was stomped on…by me.

Sure it sounds good - just taking this opportunity to duck into this museum or walk down that beach since you’re already here/nearby/just an hour away. But when you are driving up the coast or are near a really cool national park - and you KNOW you should put the kids to bed instead of letting them out…or when they are with their cousins they haven’t seen in forever or buddies they may not see for a long time (or EVER), you start to make all these exceptions. And the exceptions pile up. Because now you are in the next town, the next city, the next park, the next friends’ house. Then it’s no wonder when the word “no” about something simple comes out of your mouth and you are facing a major tantrum again and again - in the bus when they can’t have the seat they want, in the woods when only one got the ranger badge, at Paul Bunyan when climbing up the socks wasn’t allowed. The tired buzzing and confused spinning in their heads makes rationality impossible. The need to feel in control rears its head.

And we are ALWAYS in public. The down side of such an amazing and beautiful bus is that it doesn’t blend well. So while people are photographing the bus, you are dragging a kicking and screaming exhausted child into it - on camera. Instead of ignoring the tantrum to undermine it’s power, there is always someone nearby listening - or the concern you could get kicked out for being too noisy. So this adds stress. And when we lose our temper and are tired and frustrated and yell back, there is judgement. There is always judgement - whether there is anyone to hear it or not. We are our biggest critics.

As a family, we move on. Figuratively and physically. The bus moves, apologies are made, hugs given, and plans restructured. Did I expect it to be like this? Yes and no. My kids are moody, sometimes anxiety driven and tough. It is what will get them through the harder parts of life (the toughness, not so much the anxiety), but is really hard to navigate now. Did I hope they would be so engaged that some of this would slide away? Most definitely I did. And to some degree it did. In the beginning of the trip there was an attitude of excitement, camaradery, positive communication. Now, not so much. To what do I attribute the downslide…the pace mostly. It’s hard to plan a trip like this when you really have no concept of how the vehicle you are in will move - not to mention the children. We have never done this as a group before and are all learning as we go. (My youngest, for example, has now learned how to reach for things with her toes while in a carseat!)

If I were to do this same route again I would spread it out over one entire year - that way allowing time to settle and regroup and do laundry and housework and let them nearly exhaust their revelations before moving on. Also, there certainly needs to be more routine to it. I knew this going in but hadn't understood what the pace would be like enough to see the routine would get buried. My eldest (wise beyond her years) said she missed our old house because when she woke in the morning she knew what she should do. Since then I have gathered them each morning and explained the day as I see it. While occasionally this traps me with my totally literal middle child who expects it to be exactly as said without adjustment (BUT YOU SAID!!!), mostly it has taken away one layer of anxiety.

Here’s the good news…this is still our life. And what a blessed life it is. Every day a handful of strangers knock on our door and sing songs of admiration for our creation and our adventure. Every single day. What a blessing. Our kids actually hear people (other than me) tell them again and again how lucky they are and how amazing it is. To pay homage to this phenomenon we stop what we are doing and speak at length with them, answering any questions they may have. Though this always derails our schedule it has become very important. I feel it is giving back to the life this bus has created for us and the excitement for others. Natterbus touches so many people in ways I cannot understand or would have ever conceived - there is no doubt about this.

While Natterbus doesn’t take away our issues, it certainly highlights them in a way that forces us to deal with them. I have heard my children spill some really honest fears that I never knew they had. And my previous ennui when it came to my husband's passion and conversation topic of choice has been eliminated now that I too can speak his language of surf! While learning about ourselves and our relationships doesn’t always feel comfortable, it certainly keeps us tied together. And one wonderful friend we stayed with recently remarked when things were a bit rocky (and I'm paraphrasing),"Playdates are nice and all, but when you spend real time with a family and see their highs and lows it make you feel normal about your own highs and lows." That is certainly a gift we can give again and again :)

And, honestly, when I’m just absolutely done with the thousandth time I’ve been asked why we can’t buy a souvenir or totally over the tantrums, picking my head up and catching a glimpse of the ocean, the redwoods, the Rockies, the moon on the desert, or whatever it happens to be always helps me remember to take a breath.

Where Do You Live?

One of the goals of this trip was to show our kids (and ourselves) how other people live. To show them that there are thousands, millions, billions of different ways you can live your life and to not assume life is just what you see around you or what others tell you it should be. Lately, this concept has become exceptionally evident to me as we go through different terrains and varying states of weather/climate. This is especially true as I sit and watch a hummingbird sip from a delicate flower with a gentle ocean breeze blowing across me as I lounge surrounded by greenery contemplating our recent time in the desert heat and the endless dirt-coated afternoons seeking only cool liquids and escape from the deadly stare of the sun. I feel guilty, somehow. To have escaped. Or lucky. And I consider all the places we have been.

The calm seas of green and brown nothingness across the midwest that seemed to stretched forever (in fact, my son repeatedly said "...but we've already passed this!". How easy it is to become impatient with it.

The flooded areas we drove through, escaped (in St. Louis), saw or heard about.

The storm we drove through in the Petrified Forest of Arizona - where the next morning the kids reported seeing a tree on the playground that had come down from the winds.

The heat. The heat. The HEAT! The rocks, the sand, the dirt. The desert. And I think of the hardships that people go through to live in these places. Why do they do it? I am loving visiting all of these new and strange places...but could I actually LIVE here?!? ARE THEY CRAZY?!?! The cynic in me wonders...is it that some places in this country are lush and green and people with money can afford to live there and the rest of the people get whatever is left over?!?!? And then I realize that it is not this simple. That people are different - some like the heat, and some like the cold. Many of the people I have met in these places would think living through a NY winter the insane choice! Some people need mountains, or open space, or water to feel comfortable. Some people have no fear of rattle snakes, droughts, earthquakes, volcanos, tarantulas, scorpions, tornados, hurricanes, or even black widow spiders (yikes!!!). I'm sure money ALWAYS comes into play when dealing with prime property vs. less than desirable living conditions. But, in the end, we all want to live happy lives...the way we each feel comfortable and see fit whatever that may be. And while it may not look exactly the same, maybe in our hearts it feels the same. We all make sacrifices to live wherever we do...I guess it is just a matter of what we can live with and what we know. I dunno...I'd love to hear your thoughts on this. What do you live with/can't stand to live without? Where is your "normal" and where do you cross the lines of convention?

And what can we as a family live with and what can't we live with? I think we are still figuring that out. Maybe we'll let you know at the end of this trip! :)

Compassion on the Road - Part Deux

I've always been interested in the sadhus and monks and such who take an oath of poverty and must constantly walk around asking for food/assistance. This simultaneously interests and terrifies me. I often think I will do this to overcome my issues and see what it is like, but with children it is not something people consider responsible :) Believe it or not, I am also a bit of an introvert. This is something that astounds people when I say it, but I often avoid being social. It seems to overwhelm me sometimes. In this venture, however, we are constantly "out there". We are either sticking out like a sore thumb and people stop to chat about the bus or we are in a pickle and forced to reach out to people for assistance. And I have enjoyed every conversation and every interaction. The kindness of people is so reaffirming in a world where fear is the go to response for strangers.

This family opened their hearts and homes to us, giving us room to, not only stay, bathe an play, but to comfortably exist as ourselves. We wished we had more time with them!

Buck at the KOA in Colorado drove these crazy kids around as many times as they wanted, with a smile and a tip of his hat.

Ashland at the Rock Climbing gym took these two up each wall and had them ringing bells they nevevr knew they could. It was part climbing lesson, part therapy session and she handled them both with ease.

Dave in Taos helped escort the kids and I back to the bus when we didn't know where it had relocated. He was full of helpful info and had a kind smile I felt I'd known forever. Beverly in Santa Fe, who was visiting her son just released from prison, gave me her unused drying time on her laundromat dryer. We chatted about loving your children, no matter what their life is about, and what it is like being a mom. Ernest, who has 5 dogs at home and is trying to downsize, swam with us and introduced us to Brutus and Lucy. (While I fell in love with Brutus, I did decide the bus was too small for a new dog!) He shared his heart and his thoughts with us and it was a pleasure.

Marla and Chazzy stopped for a bus tour (we actually give about two a day just from people stopping wherever we are to ask about the bus). We connected on so many topics and wished we knew her the night we were in the hospital with Phoenix.

And then there are all the people who help us when we have questions/problems with the bus. Raul at the Santa Fe Public Schools bus garage, Ernest at Clark and Son's garage in Santa Fe, Dan and Paul at Auto Safe House in Holbrook, AZ, our dial-a-clue technicians Marty Flansberg and Zach VanArnum. Without their kindnesses - taking time out of their schedule to answer our questions and try and solve our problems - we wouldn't be able to continue this trip. Just today while we were hanging out killing time on the 4th until things open up Monday and we can get the bus looked at, three people (Cindy, Laurel and Rick) separately dropped by the bus to say "Hi" and offered us mechanics, showers and stories. I truly love the stories. This bus is many things to many people, not even all positive things, but to me it is connection - with my husband, my kids, myself, nature and all who encounter it. And, it is simply magic. Whether it runs or not ;)

See you on the trip side! S.