A Caravanning We Will Go !!??

(This adorable, sweet vintage Shasta trailer named Buttercup was found on Rollin' Oldies Vintage Trailers.com)

Our family is a little weird. We're not exactly like most of the other families I see around here. I don't know why we're different, but we just are. I'm not saying that we're bad different, in fact, I rather think we're very nice people, but we're just...I don't know....not regular?

What I mean is, for example, we only have one child by choice. This might not be so odd to you, but it's less common here in suburbia. Also, our kid has always refused to join a soccer team or a baseball team or other organized sports that are so so popular in our neck of the woods. They're almost like an elementary school right of passage! I'm not the type of parent to force my child to do something he truly doesn't want to do, so instead Noah takes to solitary sports, like (LOL) rollerblading, bike riding and swimming for fun. He also runs like the wind. So we can't really join in all of the baseball and soccer conversations and camaraderie with our friends.

Other weird things about us is that we don't own a minivan, our idea of fun is finding books on the "Just In!" shelf at the library, and I'm afraid of the sun. (But only because of Melasma. I get what looks like mustache when I spend too much time in the sun. It's just gorgeous if you can imagine).  And most of all, other families like to travel, and they go on these intense vacations and do things like camp or visit monuments and state parks. I don't know, we just don't travel much. Well, except for one year when we took Noah to New York City (family wedding), San Francisco (business trip) and Toronto (4-day mini-vacation), but that was a fluke. 

We just don't travel much for a whole slew of reasons, and I'm not saying they're great reasons, but they're our reasons. One is that, (sorry Noah) our child has historically been the LEAST adaptable, most ridged person I have ever met when it comes to vacations. We eventually gave up on even "trips" to the zoo until he was older. We tried going to Cleveland when he was 8-months old and turned back around the next day. He used to scream in his carseat and to this day, we've never been able to get him to sleep in a pack-and-play. (Not that we're still trying). So, after a few miserably failed travel attempts before the age of two, we really started to pull back. Several years later we tried again. I will protect Noah's privacy, but let's just say that days without sleeping and an aversion to anybody's toilet except your own, really puts the brakes on a vacation. Then when he was five, we had to go for a week to New York City for a big family wedding. Ask our child what happened when on the first day there,he got a grass stain on his stroller's footrest and what he proceeded to do for the following six days. It was not so easy. At least we can all laugh about it now.

Anyway, that was probably too much explanation, but the point is, for as much a homebody as Noah is, I'm probably and even bigger one! ;)

I know, I know, it's not good. It's important to be open to change, to be adaptable. I get it. The world is big and great and our oyster. I totally understand and agree and want to be a world traveler.  There's just something so cozy and easy about home and something totally exhausting when I think about "vacationing" with a child.

The other issues that we have is our pets. I love our cats Hector and Willow, and our dog Josie. I didn't realize how much they would keep us from traveling though. My Mom has always been willing to visit the cats twice a day (this was before we also had Josie) and I have even found and interviewed a very nice pet sitting service as a back-up. But, for whatever reason, on the rare occasions that we do go somewhere, I worry that the cats are lonely or that  that think we abandoned them! (For what it is worth, they're both rescues with handicaps. Hector is blind and Willow has a strange eye-wiggle, neck tilt. They're both ok though). Ask Jon though, about our second lovely trip to Toronto and what he thought of Noah and I leaving a teary message on the answering machine to the cats the second night, and then crying ourselves to sleep. I'm sure he'd LOVE to re-live that memory.

Now we have Josie though, and my whole perspective has changed! I think if we went on vacation and took the dog with us or sent her to my Mom's, the cats would actually THANK US for leaving! Really. No puppy = CAT'S VACATION!!! So, I think now I'd be ok leaving the cats for a week or so.

But then there's the dog. Who, is way too over-attached to us, or is it the other way around......?

Another reason we don't travel much, is because I don't care for flying very much. I mean, I WILL fly, but I still dislike everything about it. So, it's not like I start jumping up and down and beg to go to Cancun as soon as I see that Delta's running a deal. I'll get on a plane though. I've been to Europe, back and forth to California several times, New York a bunch and other places. It's just that I'm claustrophobic , and can feel nauseatingly seasick and most of all, I'm not in control and I hate that.
(Note to self: another one to work on).

And the last reason that we don't travel that often is just because of cost. While I'm sure that we could probably plan and save and budget for some travel, it just always seems like there are other things in life that we need to pay for first. We chose to buy the house that we love, but one that requires a lot of repair and maintenance. Having a child is expensive too and cars and school and summer camp and pets and a Cinnamon Toast Crunch habit. So travel doesn't come first,  and when it does, it's not one plane ticket, it's three. It's nine meals a day, it's three travel size tubes of Crest!

I'm rambling, aren't I?  So the whole darn point is, Noah is ten and I have come to realize that #1.) it's OK to be a little different, BUT #2.) soon he is going to be all grown up and I desperately want to make more family memories while we still can!!!!

If Noah turns out to be anything like Jon, then in four short years he will be stubborn and crabby and curmudgeon when we try to drag him to Disney World. So, we need to hurry up and just go do something.

(From Lucy Lord's Flickr!)

Every 4th of July, some of our very best friends in the world go on an annual camping trip in northern Michigan. Actually, lots and lots of our friends and they're all families. Every year we decide to stay home. One, because we can be lazy homebodies, two because four or five days with twenty+ people sounds completely overwhelming, three because ticks, four because we don't own ANY camping gear and $$$$, and fifth but most of all!......OUT HOUSES AND PORT-A-POTTIES!  Noah and I can not, we just can not set foot in them. And NO I DID NOT TEACH HIM THIS!!! I swear!!! He's never even seen me in a situation where I needed to use one. Noah was born, like I was, instinctively knowing that port-a-potties and outhouses have the potential to be stinky and/or not "the cleanest". Honestly, it's an nature, not nurture.

My friend, the ring-leader of this whole camping trip even called the park owner and convinced him to deliver my own, private port-a-potty, which was SO nice but over the top and I didn't know if it was just a ploy to get me there. And besides, I could TOTALLY see my friends bugging me to use my  "private bathroom" instead of sharing their port-a-potties with twenty little kids with terrible aim. 

But, all of this said, I really want to be able to go and spend time with our friends and try their version of camping. I've even gotten over my fear of wearing a bathing suit in front of them when I realized that they don't care if I have cellulite.

*******************************************************************************

The idea started rolling through my head a few years ago when I saw an episode of the Inbetweeners. The one where they go to a "Caravan Club." (That dirty show. I know).

And it only solidified more in my mind as something we might want to try as a family when I started reading about the beloved "Connievan" on the blog Attic24. 

Hmmmm....I thought, maybe there is something to all of this "Caravanning." I think in the U.S. it's called......well, they aren't RV's so it's not RV'ing here in the United States. I think we call them "trailers" here. This is how truly little I still know about the whole thing. I think though, some aspects of "trailering" or caravanning or whatever it is, sounds really nice! Especially the vintage-y, shabby chic details.

(From HearthandMade.co.uk)

If you go caravanning, you can have adventures, but you can still take the dog. It saves money on hotel rooms, and you don't have to barf on a plane! And, the best part, you always take your own bathroom with you! You can even go camping on the 4th of July so your friends don't hate you for missing yet another year!

And then, then I saw this, short video. Very short. Please watch. It made me realize that not only does caravanning help you make memories, but it teachers you how to be more flexible and adaptable and step outside your....well, i was going to say "box" but I'll just start with..... it will get me to step outside my "HOUSE". And lord knows that especially Noah and I could learn to push our boundaries a bit and become more adaptable. At least practice.

Not only would we learn to be more "go-with-the-flow," but Noah could meet lots of kids and ride his bike around and play! Something that there isn't a lot of opportunity for in our neighborhood. I could see myself trying to relax with a good book or a crochet project and Jon BBQ'ing or reading while we all sit in the woods! I'll be sure to wear long pants, and I'll make Noah and Jon and Josie wear them too. Because ticks. I even told Jon that I would let him play his Motown music the entire time, and I'd start eating hot dogs again, off sticks! Over a fire! And we'd all drink Tang.

so, see, it might be a great idea! I even started a VINTAGE CAMPER PINTEREST BOARD last year. Look how cute and comfy these things can be!

(From The Beehive Cottage.)

TRAAAA- LA -LA........

(From Cornbread and Beans Quilting.)

LA -LA-LU-LEE......

Lah-di-dah. Lah-di-dah......

(From Cassiefairy.com)

And then, this week, the universe spoke! The universe knows that we have no idea how to restore and fix up a vintage trailer. (Or anything for that matter). We have zero idea of what we'd have to do to get a camper in shape and I'd have to guess, even armed with Time Life "How To" books, we'd be in over our heads.

Enter..... THE SHASTA AIRFLYTE 1961 Re-RELEASE!!!!!

It's almost too good to be true! If you can believe it, for the past couple of years, Shasta has been making reproductions of their famous 1961 model Airflyte. Isn't that COOL!!!!???? You get all of the vintage, but none of the falling apart! Plus, it does have modern safety standards and some modern "conveniences" like air condition, a microwave oven and a nice stove and fridge. I can't believe that I'm saying this, but it's pretty neat!

Here's a video of their almost finished first pro type a couple of summers ago. It's all done now and on sale! Look at this great Facebook page for Shasta Airflyte enthusiasts! 

Think of all the places we could roam! First I'd take Noah and Josie up north, then we'd go to Maine and through Vermont and New Hampshire. Maybe somewhere warm over winter break or to Pennsylvania to see family. Maybe next summer the Grand Canyon or Route 66.

Where would you go?

What I'd like to ask you my fine readers, is have any of you had experience with campers or trailers or RV's or caravans with your family? Do you recommend this type of hobby? Do you have some special advice or input?

School ends on Wednesday, so we're ready for summer and whatever adventure it may bring! Thank you for reading my rambling post about rambling. More soon.

Until next time, be yourself and enjoy the open road....your own way. :)

xoxoxoxoxoxo,

Lauren 

Pavarotti & Aeroplanes - Remembering the True YOU!

I've decided to try something a little different this time. This post was began a couple of months ago, in an attempt to simply record a childhood memory with a special message. Someday, when I'm old, and the details become even foggier, I'll be able to look back to How Bourgeois and re-remember the story I'm about to tell of the summer of 91'.  Or perhaps one day, Noah could read the blog and learn about his parents, which would be, in my humble opinion, pretty cool! Wouldn't you love to know your parents in their own words, from a time long ago? And even maybe, at some point, I will have a grandchild or two, and wouldn't it be just amazing if they could come and read all of this? I would have really enjoyed hearing more of my Grandma and Grandpa's stories through their words, pictures and videos.

So, without further ado........ a few simple, written snapshots of a most amazing summer. Once....upon...a....time.................................

*********************************************************************************

THIS  short, beautiful video follows two older Dutch women, as they over come fear and take their very first flight. It was incredibly moving and joyful to watch. It's difficult to forget the silence and the awe that one can only find while looking down upon the earth from an airplane's window. At least, that's how I feel. It's nice to see these women find that same transcendent experience. Their reactions are so genuine and pure. I hope it makes you cry and smile at the same time too! Like it did for me! :)

There were several instances over the weekend, one being this video, that brought up memories of a very poignant time in my life. A summer that I rarely think about these days. Each time that I was reminded over the weekend though, I told Noah a little more about that magic summer, but here I'd like to tell you the whole story - a short, little picture postcard of memories.

This is a story about the summer that I turned fourteen. It's not a very long story or a particularly exciting one, but the message is important for all of us - it's that we must never forget who we really Are!

It's so easy to fail to remember  the "me" that's deep inside of us. The me, that's hidden behind layers and years of experiences, opinions and things that we are told to believe about ourselves.  Both the good and  the bad.  Fourteen-year-old you, is usually quite close to the true you. The you at your core.

When we grow older and life entangles us and fear and doubt creep in, there's often hiding inside the younger you who was bold and fearless! Boundless and free from at least some of the endless, chattering ego mind that weighs down so many of us now.  Those snapshots of youthful intrepidity are golden, and remind us that we are mightier than we know!
***************************************************
It was the summer of 1991, and I'd just turned 14.  My parents had been divorced for a few years, and my Mother was recently remarried. My father, newly returned to Michigan, from New York. He moved to the upper east side of Manhattan, for what turned out to be a one-year stint. He would call most days, but I refused to speak with him on the phone after he up and left for a new job. I was hurt. And I don't know if it was me and my refusal to talk on the phone, or the fact that his car was broken into twice in less than a year, but eventually, my father decided to moved back home.

Both of my parents were busy with their own lives, and both traveled for work. In fact, I believe this was the year that my Mother called my brother and I from Universal Studios to say that she taken the "Back to the Future" ride twice in a row, and that it was fantastic. We went back and forth between our parents' houses, but summer left long stretches of open time needing to be filled.

This was the first summer that I ever agreed to go to sleep away camp.  I was and I still am a homebody. Little wooden cabins without bathrooms did not appeal to me. Neither did mosquitoes, the dangers of ticks, overly sentimental renditions of Kumbaya and the Indigo Girls round' the camp fire. Not so much. But for whatever reason, I did finally agree, at the ripe old age of fourteen, to try Black River Horse Camp for Girls.

Here is their description from the website:

"Imagine going to the pasture to bring in your horse, grooming and saddling him, riding him through sunlit fields and wooded trails.

Then spending your afternoon jumping on the trampolines and having a picnic at the Outback. You can try your hand at tennis, camp crafts, boating on Lake Lorely, bottle feeding a new calf and/or baby goat. Also, wonderful farm food, swimming in the beautiful pool that is heated and shaped liked a horse head, girl talk in the bunk house after lights out and hikes along the wooded bank of the river."

This was a utopia. What girl would not want to permanently run away and live at Black River Horse Camp for Girls? What ADULT WOMAN would not want to run away and live at Black River for "rides in sunlit fields", "bottle feeding new calves" and "swimming in a horse head shaped pool"?

But for some reason, that summer, I lost my mind. At least for a week I did. When my Mother and stepfather dropped me off and then said their "goodbyes", I began to cry. I began to cry and basically didn't stop for an entire week. In fact, I was so distraught and full of doom, that, for the first and only time in my life, I could not bear to eat! (This is how you know things were bad.) The counselors and staff were so concerned. No amount of reasoning or cajoling or the usually distraction-worthy activities could break my dread and anxiety.

(I even took detailed photos of the bathroom in a desperate attempt to convince my Mom never to send me back. I wanted bathroom empathy because not only were they COMMUNAL bathrooms, but the stalls had painted plywood doors! Plywood doors! A horse could accidentally come barreling through those lightweight doors!)

The staff had never seen anything like it I suppose. At night I'd have terrible nightmares of home, and wake up sobbing because my family and pets were so far away. During the day, it wasn't any better.
What the counselors and the rest of the staff didn't know, was that I was an already anxious kid, just sorting out a tumultuous divorce, remarriage, and new family situation. A kid who was delivered to camp by one parent, my Mom, who was about to leave the state, and that I was to be picked up by another parent, my Father, who I doubted even knew where the camp was located. (I was incredibly worried that he would A.) forget the correct day to pick me up and B.) would not be able to find the camp, which was an hour or two from home.)

BUT, probably more than any other reason that I was completely freaking out, was because at the end of camp, I was being taken to the airport TO FLY TO LONDON, ENGLAND BY MYSELF!
Which is the second part of the story you see. There were all kinds of fun reasons for a fourteen-year-old kid away from home for the first time to freak out, and they didn't all have to do with the communal bathrooms.

In the end though, everything worked out ok at Black River. Better then ok actually, it was a fabulous place. It really was heaven on earth in many ways. The horses and being in beautiful nature and the snack shop......

After the first week of freaking out, and crying and not eating, the staff agreed to call my Mother. Which I am thankful to them for making this exception. And also which, in turn, gave me a chance to CONFIRM that it WAS communicated to my Father which date I was to be picked-up and exactly where. I was also getting hungry after living on grapes and chocolate milk all week. The phone call helped me get my appetite back.

In fact, I was feeling so much better, that the second week, I went on to win an award for "camper with the best sense of humor." This was presumably after I wrote and preformed a skit in which I acted as a clumsy and accident prone dental hygienist. I still have that award today, a little painted totem pole. It is one of my most prized possessions.

On a side note, can I just stop for a brief moment to ask if anybody else has had the same, following issue? It's kind of making me nuts!  I'm having a really difficult time typing this post because half of my right hand and wrist are wrapped up in a dish cloth. I read online that other MacBook owners are having the same problem with the sharp edges on their laptops. Are you!?

I spent two consecutive days working online earlier in the week, typing for hours. My inner wrist lays along the hard edge of my laptop and the raised, sharp metal edge of my new raised lap desk. (Which now, as I the these words, am wondering if the metal desk is the cause. I could feel it hurting my wrist as my hand moved over the edges, but I had to keep going! I woke up with a faint bruise and realized that I have been injuring my wrist and need a solution. I researches and saw that you can buy foam strips for the sharp edges, but they cost money and I've read that they fall off. So, I decided to type wearing a dish towel wrapped around my wrist. It's working well. No pain, it's just difficult to type and looks dumb. Here, I'll take a picture of my invention.

HA! Look! It's my cleavage and my fleshy arm! (Hey, can we talk sometime about sorrow that is squishy arms in summertime?) Ignore the dish towel hand. The real story here is the fact that I accidentally (HONESTLY) just took a total cleavage shot. DOH!

And then her blog was never the same ...................................................

Back to horse camp.......

Here is one quick story worth sharing:

There were so many things to love about horse camp. Balancing Dixie cups full of horse poop on the brim of my beautiful, beloved, velvety riding helmet, the kind with the perfect satin bow stitched to the back, was not one of them. (It was an exercise in proper posture and form.)

But one thing that I DID love was grooming class!
On the first full day there, I feel asleep during morning quiet time, and none of the jerks in my cabin people bothered too wake me when it was time for our cabin to go "choose our horse for the next two weeks." Instead, I woke up on my own, all alone, and raced to the barn fifteen minutes late. It was then that I learned they were short a horse, and that, since I was last, I would not have a horse, but a llama. A LLAMA to groom. Which at the time was devastating. When you dream of combing a beautiful Palamino's coat, and braiding her mane and tail into intricate designs, a llama, it just doesn't cut it. Oh, and by the way, did you know that llamas spit?

But when life gives you llamas..........
So Dolly and I went like this for the next two weeks....Comb, get spit on, comb, get spit on, comb, get spit on.
She was a sweet girl.
******************************************************

When I saw the video of the two Dutch women that I posted above, peering out the window of their plane, it reminded me of the summer of 1991, and what I feel was my particularly fearless trip to London. It is not everyday that a newly graduated 8th grader gets the chance at a solo trans-Atlantic flight and two week trip abroad.

One of my life-long best friends, Michelle, was in London visiting her father, step-mother and baby sister. Michelle's father had been transferred to England quite a few years prior, but in that time her parents had divorced and she and her sisters and mother moved back home. But, this made for summer-long trips to see her Dad. Which, sounds pretty awesome if you ask me. And so, one year I decided to go and visit Michelle for a couple of weeks, and take in the sights and sounds of London!

I remember this: Laura Ashley was very popular at the time, specifically, Laura Ashley rompers. HAhahaha. Remember those!? I wore a Laura Ashley romper on the flight out. (NOT paired with high-heels as seen below. Whaaaat???) And also, equally as ridiculous awesome, a floppy hat with the front brim pulled up. Like Blossom.

(Wait, I have found a verrrrry nice photo taken this same summer. (Oh man. I am going to regret sharing this.)  Note the highly sophisticated and gorgeous ensemble that I surely put together myself. The grown-up "essence" of a linen hat and fisherman's sweater thrown casually over my shoulders... In summer. Or the double layering of necklaces. I was sporting both a sentimental locket and a perfume bottle on a long, leather chord. Rad! And quite possibly, THE best part of this brilliant look, the neon green fanny pack worn in a non-ironic way. Because, fanny pack. Any now you know why I was called The Welcome to the Dollhouse girl for way too long......)

On the flight I had my Walkman and tapes of Cat Stevens, The Red Hot Chili Peppers and Jesus Jones. And OMG, DEEE-LITE.  I had no idea what to do in customs, how to reach the overhead bin, and I was frustrated that even at fourteen, I was still considered a "MINOR traveling alone." Because, DUH, I was actually a teenager!

I also remember, somehow, amazingly, being bumped up to first class on that flight! There were big, comfy, leather chairs, that I curled my legs up in and watched the Atlantic Ocean below while drifting off to sleep. I was offered ice cream, and woke up just as the sun was appearing over the horizon. Land ho! I had did it! The Beatles homeland! I have arrived!

When I landed, nobody was there to collect me. (There were delays with the trains.) So, I was led to the "Chidrens' Holding Pen" or so that is the name that I remember. And, I had to wear a pin, a big pin that identified me as "traveling alone." I was peeved, not because my friend and her step-mom weren't there, but because I was now basically an adult who was in the "Childrens' Holding Pen!"

Luckily, Michelle and her sweet step-mother arrived very quickly, and then we were off! I have a picture of us on the train from Gatwick to their flat in regent's Park. I had  sun-ined my dark brown hair to a crispy um.... toffee orange color, far any kind of natural shade. I felt cool.

What followed was two of the best weeks of my life. I wish I remembered them more. We traveled the city, just the two of us, hopping the tube. There was the prerequisite sight-seeing, but we also just bummed around like fourteen year old girls do!

(Unfortunately, back then, I was not much of a photographer. Most of the pictures that I took turned out like this....boring, tilted shots of building and things, mostly with my finger partially over the lens.)

I brought my Rollerblades, and Michelle's from home, and we skated around and around Regent's park. I'll never forget the stares that we received. Apparently, this was just before Rollerblades came to the UK. We must have looked odd. Also along the lines of looks, somebody said that they knew I had to be American when they saw me, and I asked "how?" And they said, because I had a tan! That boggled my mind. Wasn't it summer in the UK too?

We rode horses in Hyde Park and I almost cried, it was such a dream. The horses were so well behaved I thought, they listened to my every command with such ease. A quiet click of the tongue or tap with the stirrup. So civilized these horses were! So polite. The epitome of English riding I felt.

One day, we took a train out to Windsor Castle and to somewhere in the (relative) countryside, to Michelle's country club. There was a BEAUTIFUL green, rolling, manicured lawn that lead to a swimming pool like I've never seen. And something else that I had never seen until this point...... TOPLESS SUN BATHING WOMEN! It was difficult not to blush or stare or freak out and run away.  (Michelle and I had to walk out of a production of the Nut Cracker once because we could not for the life of us stop laughing at the men in tights. It was bad.)

I also made a pen pal at this country club. He had the sweetest British accent and told me that his father was the head of some football association. I had no idea which sport he was really talking about at the time. Football or soccer...???

One evening, Michelle's parents were going to take us to see Les Miserables!  I was feeling tired and jet lagged and Michelle told me that I had to try to stay awake. Which, of course I had to because, come on, Les Miserables in London!!! So, before leaving, Michelle and I walked to the corner store, purchased our goods, and proceeded to force-feed me an entire bag of Crunchies and Flake bars. And a lot of Coke -a- Cola. Our plan, (remember we were just fourteen) to pump me full of as much sugar and caffeine as possible, so that I could stay awake through the roughly three hour play. The only problem was, was that we had no concept of "sugar crash", and the last thing I remember is a lovely British girl in front of us asking her father for some "Straaaawburry" ice cream for intermission and thinking that it sounded so lovely how she said "strawberry", and then I passed out.
Oh, and I do remember some candies called "Minstrels" and laughing my head off because minstrel sounded like, oh, blush, MENSTRUAL and oh my gosh....

And one thing that I remember the most was that Pavarotti was giving a free concert in Hyde park to celebrate his thirty years in opera! There were more than 100,000 people there, including the beautiful Princess Diana. Unfortunately, we did not make it to the park for the concert on that rainy day. Instead, we were completely smashed into over-flowing subway cars in the tube. At one point, I was panicked by being nearly suffocated by the most tightly packed crowd I have ever been in! It was really scary.



Alas though, terrifying memories of being crushed in a crowd are far outweighed by the experience of shopping at Miss Selfridge, and of buying my first pair of Mary Jane style Doc Martins, and of shops that only sell socks, which I thought was sooooo cool. Oh! And the DREAM COME TRUE MOMENT of the trip....... having my picture taken while crossing ABBEY ROAD!!!!!!!!!
WOO HOO!!!! Life COMPLETE!!!! I need to find that photo. It's around here somewhere! It was one of the best moments of my teenage life! :)

So,  those were the memories of the summer of 1991. And the deeper point of this whole, winding practice in story telling, is that whenever your feel scared or overwhelmed, think back to a time when you were brave. When you were still untouched by too many "what if" scenarios in your head, still not notching all the opinions and expectations from the world around you.

That summer I left home for a ranch and traveled across an ocean on my own. Would I have the courage to do that today, all things considered? Probably not! I'd have every worry in my head knocking around..........my child, my husband, my home, my cats, the airplane, the communal bathroom, the homesickness, the money, the judgements, the on and on......

And this is why remembering who you REALLY are, can be such a beautiful and helpful thing!
In an ironic and timely coincidence, in the past eight days I have been invited to take a week-long cruise in Hawaii or Alaska, and was invited on a trans-Atlantic cross on the Queen Mary!
Hmmm......will I ever be as brave and adventurous as the old me.........????? ;)

Until next time my friends!!! Remember YOU and be as brave as  you can be!
With Lots of Love,
Lauren
xoxoxoxoxoxoox

I Did It! (Well, Actually, HE Did It).

Dear Internet, 

Jon is laying next to me as I type. He's snoring away. He also fell asleep today, sitting upright in a chair at our kitchen table, and then later, in sixty seconds while sitting on the couch.  Do you want to know why?

Because  Jon just got back from a nine day trip traveling around China!!!

Have your ever feared something inevitable, and you worry, worry, worry before it happens, and then when it finally does take place, you're like: "Oh! That wasn't so bad!" Embarrassingly, that's what happened to me with this whole China trip thing. 

I couldn't tell you about it while Jon was gone internet. (Although, I really wanted to). I thought it might be helpful to "share" and "get my worries out," but we decided it would be best for me not to mention on the blog that Noah and I were home alone. I'm SURE this is way way overcautious, but it's just a bit of "blogging safety."  

So this trip to China was his longest and furthest-away business trip ever, and before-hand the thought of everything was really throwing me for a loop! 

It's not like Jon never travels, in fact, he travels often! "Single parenting" and holding down the fort when Jon is on a trip is old-hat for me. It started when Noah was just six weeks old. Jon has taken 47 trips to Las Vegas alone in the past ten years! (Lots of trade shows held there.)  And, that's just Las Vegas. He gets to visit New York and San Francisco and all kinds of places all over the country. Next month there might be TWO San Francisco trips! 

The point is, while I don't like it when Jon isn't home, things are usually OK.  It's exhausting and twice the amount of work (I don't sleep well when he's not here and I'm in-charge of getting everything done), but it's OK. 

The China trip.......it had me flipping out in the weeks leading up to it. Poor Jon, like he needed all of my worries. But I just couldn't help it. For one thing, China is REALLY far away. It's around the WORLD! So, that in of itself was unsettling for me, to be separated by that kind of distance. Then, the nine days, that feels long! For quite a while, Jon would take one or two seven day trips each year, and I was always exhausted and beat by day seven. It kind of felt like my max. 

Actually, this is funny,  here's what I posted on my personal Facebook page around day seven.....: " Dear everybody, I'm at school. WHERE IS EVERYBODY !!!??? Oh yeah, they get out at 3:20, not 2:20. You know you're tired when........"

Oops!!!  That's what lack of sleep can do to you after a week.  FOR HOW MANY YEARS have I been picking him up at 3:20? Lol. I must have been really tired that day. 

But then there were other things with this trip that worried me, like the time difference. Twelve hours. I worried about whether we'd ever get to talk. (I couldn't call him if Noah wouldn't go to sleep or if something was wrong with the fridge, or if I had a banking question or if I was anxious about something). I worried if his phone would work, and HOW I'd even call it!  I worried that his jam-packed schedule, plus the twelve hour time difference, plus the wonky phone situation would mean we would hardly be in contact! And, not to mention the two travel days when he'd be on a plane and I absolutely could not contact him. It was a bundle of communicational anxiety.

But even worse, I just worried about Jon's safety. EVEN THOUGH, knock on wood, air travel is relatively safe, the thought of my husband flying far far away had me unnerved. And to make matters worse, this crazy whirlwind trip was like that movie "Planes, Trains and Automobiles." Once he got to China, he was traveling all over within the country on airplanes, trains and automobiles!

I worried that the safety standards weren't as high for domestic air travel in China. (I turned out to be way wrong)! I worried about him riding the trains. I worried about the three-hour car trips on what I've heard are wild west style mega-highways. (Turns out those weren't as scary as I thought either).

But the thing is, you never KNOW that things are actually ok, until you find out for yourself! I'd heard stories about the airlines and the highways, but they were just that, stories. 

So in the weeks leading up to this trip, my anxiety and my "what if" thinking became worse and worse. And in the days leading up to the trip, like a totally annoying person I imagine, I would just spontaneously cry. I was really upset. I resented the fact that he had to go, that he had to travel.

I know it's not fair of me at all. Jon provides such a nice life for Noah and I, and he deserves to have a fulfilling career, without blubbering me! So, I tried to temper my emotions in front of him, but it wasn't easy because I was just so sacred.

A big part of this was that the China trip really forced me to stop and see that I am totally dependent on Jon in so many ways. It is NOT GOOD that I rely on him not only for our livelihood, but for all of the details and nitty-gritty, like getting the mortgage bill paid and the mini-pool's filter running, and the lawn tidy and the furnace/humidifier combo going.  I am completely dependent on ANOTHER human being, and that's not good. It made me feel ashamed, stupid and vulnerable.

Before he left, Jon sat down and typed out a big packet of papers with all of the information that I would ever need about anything..... house, cars, accounts, passwords, bills, etc etc etc......

We sat down and went over everything! 

So to cut to the chase, Jon was very sweet and thoughtful and sat down with me and we talked about it all. Then we went outside and he taught me how to turn on and off the filter to the world's most annoying hole in the ground, the mini-pool. Which, mind you, is like a ten-step process that involves sticking your hands in not one, but two watery, nasty baskets that collect slimy leaves and pine needles and bugs. Yuck!

That night we sat in Noah's room before bed time and all gave a hug. Our little family. I couldn't push the "what if" thoughts completely out of my mind: "What if something goes wrong? What if this is the last time we're all together?" What if....what...if.  I hated myself for even having these thoughts, but I couldn't help it. And then I also couldn't sleep. 

The next morning came for Jon to leave. We were up at 4:00 am. I did my best to keep my cool, and I did, for the most part. I knew that I needed to focus my energy on getting through the next nine days, one positive step at a time. I also wanted to show Jon that I was excited for him, which I was! This trip was an AMAZING opportunity to see the WORLD! So I was glad for him.

We all said our "goodbyes," I shed very minimal tears, and Noah and I waved from the window as Jon's taillights faded into the darkness. 

I had many a worry during those nine days, for Jon to have safe travels, but really, one thing that I learned, is sometimes you just have to say a little prayer and then just let go.

I came to that conclusion late one night, during Jon's first flight within China. He was flying from Shanghai to Guangzhou in the south. We had a short call before his flight. I was very worried. We hung up. There was nothing more. I felt enormously how far away he was and that he was doing something neither of us had ever done before. And then I just let go. I had to. 

The next morning when we talked, he already had a day behind him in Gaungzhou, and Jon was raving about what a FANTASTIC airline he had taken. That the planes were new and pristinely clean, and everyone was so nice, and how the food was wonderful. They even served him.....those little cups of orange juice with the foil lids!!!! Remember those!!!?? So great right!? :)

So yeah, it taught me to just let it all go, and for the most part, I did. Poor Jon was driven around all week and had to schlep around the world in first and business class, and was wined and dined on fine food each night, but I just had to stop worrying so much about the poor guy. ;)

And on our side of the world, Noah and I were FINE. Apart from bashing my knuckles when a lever on the pool filter gave way, burning my face with a curling iron that slipped out of my hand, and spattering myself in boiling butter, everything went great! Thankfully, everything was A-OK!

Noah went to sleep on the first try for the most part, we were up and out of the house by 8:00 am each day without a hitch. I became a trash-taking out pro and a pool filter problem-shooting expert. I even MOWED THE LAWN......TWICE! And raked and bagged the clippings. I was actually liking it!

My Dad came into town one night to visit and take us out to dinner. And my parents brought Noah up north to their cottage for two days while I stayed and babysat their cat. Our friend Roger visited us a few times, so it wasn't bad at all, and before I knew it, I had the sense that I was actually doing it! I was OK!!!!! I didn't crumble or cry. It wasn't the worst thing ever or the scariest. I was more resilient than I had realized and that felt good! :)

And so the trip came to and end when Jon pulled up in the driveway at 8:00pm on the ninth day.  I was so so proud and happy and excited for him. What an adventure! And proud of Noah for being so good, and even proud of myself too! We all did it!

And then the very next morning JON WENT TO WORK, and just like that.....life was back to normal! :)

******************************************************************************

That was a few days ago. Poor Jon really struggled to sleep the first night. The second was better, but he was still exhausted today. A lot of people say that adjusting to the time change coming home is more difficult then when you head west. Jon says this seems to be the case for him too.

I'd like to share some of his great pictures from the trip when he has them downloaded, but for now, I'll just leave you with the few pictures that I have from the past week:

I could not believe how well the whole phone thing worked out! Jon used a Chinese SIM card in his phone and he was able to text with me over wi-fi, email and call. I didn't text or call during work hours because he was so busy. I didn't want to interrupt, but he was nice enough to send me texts to say "hi" whenever he could. I got quite a few food pics like this! Doesn't it look delicious??? Jon had the most wonderful, amazing, fun time trying out the cuisine. He loved that so much, and I love that he had the chance!

Noah and I ate pretty well too. We had a nice dinner out at Toast with my Dad, and even got in one of Jon's LEAST favorites, pizza, TWICE! It was a week-long pizza party! (We took advantage of the opportunity).  I tried to cook a little too. This is an easy go-to..... matzo ball soup with noodles and fresh veggies.

The Trillium popped up again this year! I was so happy. There used to be a law making it illegal to pick them. More info HERE.

Noah and I had fun. We even made a mosaic pirate craft. I think that was my favorite part. It had adhesive jewels, so who wouldn't like it! 

I got one writing trip in at the coffee shop! I was so happy to run into my friends there too. This is when I found out that my stinky, mushroom smelling sunscreen MIGHT have been tainted with micro-fungus. GROSS!!!!

The evening that Jon came home, we drew on the driveway with chalk and excitedly waited for his arrival. It was great!

My gift was this pretty jade bangle. The only problem is, it was almost impossible to get over my hand! I think that I have fairly small size hands for an American, so women's hands in China must be tiny! These bangles are supposed to be tight though, and fit fairly close to the wrist so that they don't twist and bang into things, possibly chipping the jade. I love my new bracelet. Jade is so beautiful!

Let's see, one last pic for now.... Have you ever curled your hair with a flat iron? I LOVE using my flat iron now to curl my hair. It's fun and easy, and depending on what size hair sections that you curl and how quickly you go, you can make tight curls or beachy waves. It's great!

Just remember to use a heat protectant. So much heat isn't good for your hair, so you might not want to do this all the time. I'll post my favorite "how to" video below, and you can make the right decision for yourself.

Here I am with some flat iron curls. I was going to only post the picture on the left, but I wasn't smiling much, and my "real self" is truly more like a smiling person. Hence, the truer me on the right. The only thing is, I always feel self conscious full-out smiling because when I do, my my face gets all squished up and looks not as good in my opinion. So, I've just included both.

Ok, here is my favorite flat iron to curl your hair tutorial. It's by the wonderful Melissa Maker, who also owns one of my fav YouTube channels, Clean My Space!

Ok, until next time, I'm going to try to get some sleep!

xo,

Lauren