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.