The Road Trip

We took a road trip a few weeks back. With two young kids. When I was 30-31 weeks pregnant. We spent 11 days on the road, slept in six different places, drove 3,000 miles, visited 3 national parks and an aunt and uncle.

Before we left, Mike had told me about telling his co-workers his vacation plans. I think each one of his friends responded with either “Why?” or “You’re crazy.”

Mike and I had started to question if we were crazy, if we would end up regretting the trip after a few days in the car, me in my third trimester and our active kids strapped in car seats. Most people we know spend vacations at the beach or go to Disneyland or on an all-inclusive cruise.

And maybe we are a little crazy. Maybe it’s no longer conventional to pack your kids into the minivan and risk eight hours of bickering in the confines of said minivan…for multiple days straight. Maybe it’s not normal to drive over a thousand miles to see the natural wonders of this world or discover how life might be lived a few states over. Maybe in our fast-paced culture we have ran afraid of boredom and missed the gifts it can give.

Friends, that trip was just what this family needed. I can’t even put into words the joy wrapped up in watching my kids’ faces as they pulled their first geode out of the earth or sat on a pony in the Montana woods or watched Old Faithful blow or spotted a bull moose a few yards from our car or tried to draw the baby buffalos romping through the meadow or awoke to discover snow covering the ground in May. Time slowed down for us, and those slow days and slow moments, it’s like I got handed a magnifying glass to the innerworkings and giftings of my kiddos. I got to see them. Really see them.

I can’t even tell you how refreshing it was to finally feel like there was nothing I needed to catch my husband up on and to just sit in the peaceful quiet watching the scenery roll by. It was a gift to watch the stress unravel off Mike as we drove further away from the demands of his job and law enforcement life. We made new inside jokes, like the ones we’ve carried since our first year of marriage. We laughed till the tears streamed. We dreamed of life in other places (like Montana may have stolen both our hearts), but the important part was that we dreamed new dreams, together.

All four of us (or should I say 5? J) tried things like buffalo, elk, and huckleberry ice cream for the first time. (And I am just saying that if you are ever in Missoula, MT: Big Dipper Ice Cream. Trust me.) We are convinced the Midwest over salts everything, that a Californian should never bother with Mexican food in Idaho, that Montanans might just be the most hospitable people on earth, and that the rudest drivers are not in the San Francisco Bay Area, but Jackson Hole, Wyoming.  

We made memories that I know the kids will still talk about into adulthood… like the time Mom accidentally took them to a crowded Montana bar on a Friday night complete with pool tables, live country music, and more cowboy hats than men because she thought bar meant that there was a bar, not that it couldn’t be a family-friendly restaurant too. Yeah. Nope. It was a bar-bar. (We almost walked right back out, but the owners and the people were so nice that we stayed, sat next right next to a stuffed buffalo, ate buffalo tenderloin and tacos, and got to hear a beautiful rendition of “Red River Valley” that made my country heart soar. We might not have fit in with the scenery, but I’m glad we stayed.)

Sure, there were a few meltdowns. We got asked “How much longer till we get there?” a few too many times for our patience. The kids ignored our request to keep their hands to themselves. Little Brother discovered the thrill of pestering Big Sister till she reacts loudly. This pregnant girl went a few too many hours without food, spent a few too many hours in one day in the car, and hiked one mile too many through rough terrain. All of which may or may not have led to a complete meltdown. (Jed is now overly concerned about whether I am hungry and has since told a few people, “My mom needs to eat right now or she will cry.” Thanks, Son.)

But the gifts. Oh, how they outweigh the struggles.

Deep down in the heart of this girl-woman, there might be an absolute wander-lust that makes things like road trips breathe life into her. Maybe it’s not for everyone. But truly, I think the best gifts that life, motherhood, and marriage have to offer are wrought in the things that make you wonder if you are crazy. The best gifts go to the bold ones, the crazy ones, the ones who take risks, the ones who know it might not all work out like a dream but still believe the story will be worth it. And in the end, the story is always worth it.

It’s easy to live in the excuses of timing and life, the maybe a few years from now when the kids are older kind of stuff. But I just feel like I need to quietly remind you that your family, your marriage, your own life story, they are all worth taking risks over. They are all worth big investment.

What is one big (and maybe slightly crazy) thing you have done that paid off in big rewards for your family?

By Grace,

Amanda Conquers

P.S. Next week, I should have a light-hearted post sharing some of the things that made this road trip awesome as well as some of the things that we’d change next time around...you know, in case you are thinking a crazy road trip sounds like fun too.