Moving Memories

Travis’s phone rang. He looked down to check who was on the other end.

“It’s the apartment office,” he said and quickly answered it. After a few “uh-huh’s” and “ok’s” he hung up.

“We’re moving at the end of the month.”

A huge smile spread across his face. I was happy too. This was something we had wanted for our family for over two years. It meant a bigger place to call home, not feeling so cramped in our tiny two-bedroom townhouse. Even if the upgrade was only to a three-bedroom unit within the same complex, we just couldn’t wait.

But something fell in the pit of my stomach. This also meant we actually had to leave the apartment we came to love as our home.

We Went Camping and I Survived

This essay was previously published on Parent.co.

We went camping for the first time as a family this past weekend. I went camping for the first time this past weekend. Like at a campsite, in a tent, in sleeping bags, on the ground, camping. 

Travis had wanted to go camping for some time. He wanted it to be “our thing.” He wanted our family to be a camping family. He was putting a lot of stock into this dream with a wife who had never camped before and the unpredictable nature of the weather app. 

“I’m going to take Anna camping for her birthday,” he told me back in September. Secretly I was relieved he didn’t invite me on their father/daughter trip. I wasn’t so sure I was ready to be among the bugs and the dirt and sleeping on the hard ground just yet. 

He made reservations at a campsite at a nearby lake. Anna’s third birthday came, and with it, a storm that was to last all weekend. They moved their camping trip indoors and set up the tent in our tiny living room. She had a blast. She had no idea this wasn’t real camping. 

But Travis did. He was ready for the real thing. He longed to be sitting by the fire roasting marshmallows and hot dogs, falling asleep under the stars, and waking up to the birds chirping and the cool air filling his lungs. And he wanted to experience it all with his family.