Bringing the Joy of Family Vacation Home

It has been one month since that glorious day in May when my sweet husband walked across the commencement stage to receive his diploma for our—eh, I mean, his—four years of hard work in Grad School.

In the past six weeks our family has traveled 2,784 miles by car and 4,334 miles by air to three amazing destinations for a some much needed R&R, in addition to visiting one very average middle America town to honor the life of a very important person.

Evidence seen here...

My road trip with the three kids halfway across the country. Dada stayed home.

Graduation vacation in Mexico. The whole family together. Delightful.

Camping in Moab, Utah. Multi-family fun.

Our annual trip to California to visit with my family. Just me and the kids.

Across the miles we've had plenty of time together to talk and dream and laugh and dream some more.

The most amazing thing about trips in general is that we get to take a step back from the day-to-day happenings in our lives. Remarkably, when not in the middle of the normal flow—be it the busy, mundane or chaotic flow—of our lives we start to see things a little differently. And if we're lucky we'll be seeing things a lot differently by the time we get home. That's why I love taking trips so much. The new perspective is so refreshing.

I especially like road trips—even with three rowdy kids in the back. The focused time I get with my hubby is precious to me. Endless hours of talking. Endless hours of hand holding. For some reason we don't seem to get much of that goodness when we stick around the house. And the kids are strapped in. Have I mentioned before my love of little children who sit still?

Still and quiet children aside, upon arriving at home my main goal was to translate the wonderful things we've seen, breathed and felt from our time away into our day-to-day living.

However upon arriving at home, the busyness of our schedules, mundane household chores and chaotic ambiance inside our four walls took their proper places front and center in our day-to-day happenings.

Hardly shocking. But honestly, I was shocked. How did we go from peace and harmony on the beach to three short people fighting, screaming and whining all day long? I imagined our family vacation bliss would last a few weeks at the very least, while I was secretly hoping for slightly more. We must have forgotten to pack the good vibes, mellow moods, and go-with-the-flow attitudes in to our suitcases. These delightful ways of functioning together have likely found anther family of vacationers to overwhelm with their joy by now.

But I want them back. Mellow moods, mellow moods, where are you?

So I've been thinking. What are the factors that contribute to such greatness as a family when on vacation?

A few points that have been sitting with me strongly...

Simplify everything. On vacation the schedules are simple. They are not overcrowded with nonsense. We do the essentials. Not much more. Cooking becomes a family activity. Tidying is a mindful practice.

Detach from the stuff. On vacation our space is not overcrowded with ten thousand little things. Or a hundred items of clothing. Or sixty pairs of shoes. Everyone has one outfit for now, one in the laundry and one for later. Just one pair of shoes per person. One hat. One book. In a hotel room or vacation rental there is a place for everything and everything in its place. This is so much easier to do when there are one hundred things to deal with instead of one hundred million things.

Allow children their fair share of the Earth's elements. For my kids, this is no less than eight hours a day feeling the sun's warmth and getting up close and personal with the forces of nature—be it a wave, dirt path or tall rock.

Plan well. There is a time and place for everything in the day. Try to feed the kids a meal two hours late and watch the madness unfold. Try to get just one more thing done on the computer before we leave for that bike ride I promised and watch the madness unfold. Meal prep, kitchen clean-up, quiet time and mama's work all have proper spots. When well executed this ship runs smoothly.

I'm excited to actualize these concepts in our home this week. First stop... delivering bags of stuff to the thrift store. Yay!

30

For years I designed my gluten-free grocery list to include all of the normal favorites that American families have grown to love.

Bagels. Waffles. Pasta. Bread. Cereal. Crackers. Frozen pizza. Cookies. Ice cream.

The cold, hard evidence from my investigation on the cost disparity between normal food and gluten-free food was nothing short of appalling. If the label says "Gluten-Free" you can expect to pay at least three times the amount you were accustomed to paying in the past.

After years of shopping like this, my pocketbook gave me an ultimatum: find a way to eat that doesn't break the bank or spend the next fifteen years paying 27% on your favorite dairy-free ice cream.

I choose the former. And we've found unexpected joy.

Joy in cooking healthy dinner from scratch every night.

Joy in watching my three young monkeys enjoy diverse foods that most of their peers won't touch with a ten foot fork.

Joy in making snacks and sweets in my oven and being able to gracefully pronounce every last ingredient from top to bottom.

Joy from living simply.

We've found this joy by trading in the frozen waffles for our own Praise Worthy Pancakes.

Packaged cereal for oatmeal—every morning.

Pasta dinners for eccentric brown rice dishes.

Ice cream for... well, there is no replacement for ice cream.

We've learned to trade in the bowl of ice cream for one bite of dark chocolate after dinner.

All of this helps us to keep our pocketbooks grounded and our heads level. I couldn't be more pleased with this experiment. And miraculously, three months in, I have the distinct pleasure of hearing from every last member of my clan how much they love oatmeal in the morning. Sweet satisfaction.

Week 30 Meal Plan


Monday - Spiced Chicken with Stubby Vegetables
Tuesday - Hearty Butternut Squash Soup
Wednesday - Crockpot BBQ Chicken with The Slaw
Thursday - Egyptian Rice and Lentils
Friday - Taco Nachos with Guacamole
Saturday - Tuna Casserole
Sunday - leftovers

This song won't leave my head. It keeps playing over and over again. It's a good thing my favorite band sings it otherwise that might be annoying.

Zac Brown Band - As She's Walking Away

Dancing in the Kitchen on a Sunday Afternoon

A new ritual has been instituted here in the Little White Kitchen.





Imagine if you will...


A stove full of pots boiling - potatoes, eggs, soup - just try to forget about the 100 degree weather that day, no air conditioning and very little cross ventilation


Country music - playing on the radio in the corner, yes, a real radio with antenna and static

Shirtless hubby - with an old straw cowboy hat on top

Close dancing - apron on and wooden spoon in hand

Dishes piling up - and getting washed almost immediately (my favorite part of the whole experience)

In between the dancing and the talking and the laughing and the dreaming we made homemade potato salad and egg salad and pumpkin soup and pizza. This Sunday afternoon cook session felt like a dream come true. Me and Hubby concocting all kinds of delicious creations. Kids gathered around the kitchen table coloring. Chickens clucking away in the backyard. This week, we start off right by making a refrigerator full of yummy nutritious food. No more "I'm starrrr-ving". No more "Aghhhhh" from the baby. We're going to eat well this go 'round.

The Challenge Gets Real

Back at home, the day started something like this... awake, brush teeth, shower (ah-ha, I did it, this is bound to be a good day), eat oatmeal, begin sipping a cup of coffee, consider meal planning, stare blankly at my scrap paper, settle two kids at table eating oatmeal, continue staring at my scrap paper...




Despite the early morning bathroom pep talk about reducing our grocery spending and enjoying the challenge, meal planning this week seemed daunting. I am tasked with planning based on what we have in the cabinets. Eat it all (and I mean all) before we spend more at the store. Of course we need some of the basics from the store today - fruit, veggies, meat - but the meals need to come from the depths of lower cabinets. Old lentils, beans and rice. My recipe catalog is intimidating. Not that the recipes are intimidating, for they are glorious, scrumptious and divine. Rather the price of the ingredients can be downright scary. So I took to the internet for inspiration. 7am - My heart was pitter-pattering in my chest.

Ah-ha. Eureka. The Mennonites have come through for me. The influence of coffee in my veins must have stirred sweet memories of our time at the Netherlands L'Abri where delicious food was served morning 'til night, and where I was first introduced to this cookbook. Years ago The More With Less cookbook fascinated me with the simple premise that "There is a way of wasting less, eating less, and spending less which gives not less, but more. The gain is so great that the phrase 'cutting back' doesn't fit at all." Yes. Yes. Yes. This is the kind of inspiration I need this morning.

The grocery trip was a success. I spent half of what I normally do. Tonight was orange lentil soup over quinoa with lettuce salad. Feeling proud.

Let's see how I feel when the morning comes and I need to pack a lunch. No bread. Aghhhh!

Lessons Learned from the Sea

My beach vacation comes to a close today. Day after day of nothing to do but mozy my way down to the seashore, build castles of sand with the kids and float along with the ocean tide will soon turn into early mornings getting three kids dressed and out the door before the rooster crows, frantically packing lunch, and all the rest of the household norms - laundry, cook, sweep, laundry, organize, garden, scrub toilet, purchase laundry detergent, homework, laundry, cook and dishes. Somewhere in there I will sit down for five minutes - on the toilet - if I'm lucky. This all starts the day after tomorrow when I spring out of bed with the morning songbirds.

But, as with every other year as I leave this place, I intend to keep the beach alive in me. A few lessons I take from the sea:





A) The tide rises and the tide falls. When it's high, you float. When it's low, all kinds of things are exposed. One is not better than the other. They are just different. You respond differently. Same goes for the flow of the household (especially the finances and budget). Varying circumstances require varying response. Nothing is constant except the inevitability of change.

B) Get wet. Gazing at the ocean offers a certain serenity and awe. Getting in it is downright humbling. Willingly walking into something so grand and powerful will always bring you back to right where you need to be. In my family and in my life, that IS where it's at. In the thick of it. In the middle of the currents and the waves. What I'm looking for isn't around the next corner, or in the next house, or with the next job. It's here and now and there is profound beauty in that.

C) Connect with the process. At the crack of dawn every morning there are a handful of surfers standing on the precipice. They gaze out at the surf with such focus and wonder. The connection is deep, the bond is strong. This may sound silly but I need a little more of that in my day to day. Fully engaged in my process, for what it's worth - I intend to give over to the act of doing laundry. Invest fully in what I'm cooking for my family. Take pride in tidying the dining room after a meal. Being present is the key to fruitful living. No worrying about the future. Or crying over unfulfilled expectations of the past. Today is where the living happens.

Objectives

We've arrived on our yearly family vacation to the seashore. With my toes in the water and ass in the sand there was not a worry in the world for me and my crew today.


All of this sun and sand has, however, given me opportunity to think through precisely what it is that I'm trying to accomplish.

Over the next nine months, while my husband wraps-up the fourth year of his Grad School program and our life is totally crazy, I want to...

1) Reduce our grocery spending by half
2) Increase our standard of living so that everyone's physical and emotional needs are being met
3) Make my return to finding pleasure in the simple things of life

Going back to my first post, the second two items hinge on the first. In our intense budget review, there seemed no room for spending reduction but in this one area. And reducing spending on food means that I get to see my husband more because he works less. When I see him more, I am a happier wife. The kids are more fulfilled. I enjoy cooking dinner again. We sit together at the table. And, 'voila', our standard of living has gone up.

And from there pleasure returns to the things that best own pleasure - a simple sunset, a hug from my baby, walking in the cool evening air, eating wholesome and delicious food crafted by my own hands, dancing wildly in my living room with folks I love, floating down a free river in a borrowed intertube, being together. This is what my next nine months are about.

Two Guiding Principles

In my slumber last night I pondered what it is going to take to achieve this seemingly impossible feat. It came to me about 5:30 this morning. The two guiding principles that will be my beacon: One - Listen to your mother. Two - Don't spend money you don't have.

As I continue to play house in my 10th year of marriage I can hear this little voice - not always so soft - playing in the back of my head... Turn the lights out when you leave a room, finish the food on your plate, don't touch the thermostat, Why are you standing there with the refrigerator door open, do you think we're cooling the neighborhood?

When I was young these constant reminders of conservation were nothing less than annoying. Now as the mother of three young kids myself I completely understand the need for this type of rambling. Sky high electric bills, wasted food, over heated dwelling space, and dull stares into the refrigerated abyss are things I must keep in check. When cutting dollars at every corner it's the little things that count. And so I find myself ladling a smaller portion on my plate at dinner time. Heaven knows I'll soon be eating the leftovers from the kids plates in my attempt not to waste.

As I finish off the last bit of beef stew from my one year old's tiny bowl, I channel my grandfather, mother and all the other caretakers who've gone before. Making sure that my offspring have enough to grow healthy and strong and take the scrapes left behind for myself. But truly, this way I spend less and waste less and am more able to follow Guiding Principle #2.

Spending money I don't have will only lead me to spending more money I don't have until I'm dizzy in the downward spiral of debt for the simple sake of consumerism.

It makes more sense to adjust my lifestyle now while I'm still without burden of servitude to the almighty credit card companies. Maybe this way I'll be able to fulfill my dream of taking off to Costa Rica on a whim with my family and living on the beach for months without a care in the world. It's only a dream, but one that will never come true if I'm stifled under the weight of paying three times the price for that darn granola I so love to buy pre-made.