Vacations don't happen every year for our family. It makes a lovely thought or theory, but from the financial angle, it does not come to pass in consecutive years. We might take a weekend trip, or a day trip to enjoy a new sight or experience in our "off" years, but a full-blown, week-long excursion has not happened for this family in the past 18 years.
This summer, we planned a vacation to Maine, my personal destination of choice for any trip. I feel attracted to that state of our union, love the sights and atmosphere, enjoy the weather, love the seaside option that quickly converts to mainland attractions without much hassle, and the lighthouses. I really like lighthouses, and never get bored with the ones we have already visited four times. I do not enjoy lobster or crab or anything else in the crustacean family, so the fresh-from-the Atlantic ideal does not blare a siren call to me. I'm a haddock kind of girl, as long as it comes with a half-cup of tartar sauce. Good stuff -- and best when served in Maine. Really.
Don likes Maine, too, but travel does not sit at the top of his list of things to do -- as a much too frequent business traveler, hopping into the car with the kids and a pile of luggage does not top his "to do" list. Once we firm up plans, make reservations and actually get into that car and head down the highway, he does just fine. The "thinking about it" part gets in his way, I believe, all the rest of the year. Hotel stays and long highway driving mean "work" -- and a couple of squabbling, tired kids doesn't equal "fun" in anyone's book.
So, this year we overcame the family travel obstacles, used several thousand hotel points from those frequent travels, and designed ourselves a trip to Maine. We plotted a route that took us through Don's hometown, Rochester, NY, visiting old friends and neighbors for the day, making it a treat for the kids to meet the people Daddy knew way back when. Our path led through Vermont and New Hampshire, so that the kids could check those states off their lists as well as give us some new scenery, since we have the I-80 vistas of Pennsylvania memorized after more than 18 years of traversing the Commonwealth. The northern route shortened our drive by a chunky 15 minutes, and in the future, I prefer to see the Green Mountains of Vermont over the Susquehanna River valley of Pennsylvania ... if I could only figure out how to skip southern New Hampshire, which offers little to see, in our first-timer opinions.
We sallied forth into Maine. Just seeing the sign over the highway noting, "Maine State Line" cheered me. The kids squealed, as all kids do when falling prey to their parents' leading -- not old enough to consider their own likes and dislikes completely, unless they involve food or clothing. Making them jump out of the car for a roadside picture near the "Welcome to Maine" sign will never leave my memory -- a screaming 10-year old, fearful of wrecking the car as we left the highway, bracing herself for impact and trying to fight getting out of the vehicle for the picture-taking ceremony ... ahhhhh, family! Fitting into this scene the father whose patience sits on the line, we would get that picture if it killed someone, preferably the one who insisted on screaming.
The first hours inside the Maine state line went to finding food and Lighthouse #1. Seafood platter for Don at Foster's Clambake, while the rest of us landlubbers ordered chicken and burgers. Eat, pay, depart. Great spot to stop, which we will do again. Head down Route 1 to Route 1-A to Cape Neddick. THERE IT IS! Nubble Light at the head of York Beach. It gets older every year, but seeing its glorious white tower and red roofs never ages for me. The sun hits it differently each time, the ocean varies in tide, the clouds cover, splotch, or don't appear at all. They have park benches at intervals for a reason -- folks don't tire of this kind of sight-seeing.
We repeated our sight-seeing pattern throughout our week's trip, managing to really enjoy the views, loving the perfect weather (70's, maybe low 80's with low, low, low humidity), appreciating the nuances of fog over the shore and the amazing sound of a foghorn calling out to those at sea. While we wouldn't want to live on the water, we do like to visit!
Finishing our tours each day, we felt very tired ... not rested or relaxed, which seems to make vactation appealing for most people. We had full days, lots of memories, and many stories to take home with us. We do not consider lying on a beach or sitting in an easy chair "vacation". I so much prefer making the most of where we are and what we can see, and if we vacationed more I think we would get better at how we handle our time.
Do we work toward another trip next summer? Should we make an excursion of some kind an important part of our yearly calendar? After this summer's trip, I think so.
Austin wielded his borrowed digital camera like a professional, falling onto one knee to line up shots of whatever would stand still long enough for him. He watched out the car windows, reading signs and calling out sights he could identify when we least expected anyone to notice. He vacationed as if he had traveled extensively and enjoyed every moment. He and I got along famously as we traveled along, each showing the other what we noticed and taking pictures of many of the same spots. His eye for a different kind of detail amazed us. This boy needs to travel.
Courtney absorbed her surroundings quietly, not always letting us know if she appreciated any of it. Her pre-teen self preferred that parental figures stay a safe distance away and, not for any fathomable reason, hug her, let alone touch her. She brought along her pink digital camera but didn't feel a need to document what her eyes saw, though we encouraged her to show us her take on the trip. Taking pictures must have interfered with her brain's need to absorb information and memorize facts, her favorite pastimes. When not sight-seeing, she stared out the windows or read a book, but all the while keyed in to what we did and where we drove. How else could she have felt the car "catapulting" toward those welcome signs?
As a parent, I learned volumes about each of our children during the 10 days we traveled. I feel in tune to their differences much more than I did, and I also tuned in better to my husband. I don't know where the road might take us next time, but I know that we need to let half the family rest up much more than the other half, and to leave lots more sight-seeing time with less to-and-fro travel -- maybe fewer sights and more seeing? I know that our children have a dire need to swim, as well as to body surf in the ocean and build sand castles. I love this about them. I also know one child needs a camera to help him focus on and enjoy his time, while the other requires only her mind and eyes to get along.
As a wife and partner, I know that I need to drive the most on a car trip, which doesn't bother me in the least. I need to learn better how to tune out any driving advice I might receive from ... um ... others in the vehicle, but my driving takes a lot of the stress off my partner. He wants to see, photograph, learn and guide the kids, but he does not want to have charge of the path, only the Global Positioning System. This works for me, as long as he snaps pictures of all the best sights along the way. Also, I learned that keeping everyone informed of every little twist and turn makes everyone happier. Infants and toddlers afford luxury to a family in the sense that they go wherever you go without complaint, and pretty much without a clue. Anyone over the age of 7 does not appear quite as compliant. Somehow, we raised these children to think for themselves -- a worthy goal, but not beneficial on a family vacation!
And so, I think about 11-1/2 months from now and wonder if and where we might go. Just like Christmas, the planning and preparing make a great part of the anticipation, but the end result lasts longer and holds far more meaning than the packages and trinkets under the tree. We will never outgrow our memories of time together. The gifts will lose their luster, but the remembrances of where we've been and what we've done will always shine in our memories and in our children's futures.
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