Kiersten
The planner
Former figure skater and runner, now the one with the packing list and the camera. I believe the little years are for living, not for waiting.
The little years are too good to put on hold
When I was pregnant with Addie, everyone told us the same thing: travel now, because once the baby comes it'll be years before you go anywhere. We didn't want to believe it, and we didn't want to wait a decade to start making these memories together.
So we went. Addie was five months old on her first long-haul flight. Eloise was one month old on her first trip. We've since spent three months living in Portugal, a month in the UK and Iceland, and more days than I can count somewhere with sand in the car.
Easier isn't better. The hard travel days are the price of the good ones, and the good ones are the whole reason we go.
It has never been perfect. There have been missed naps, crying on planes, a double stroller we regretted within two days of landing in Lisbon, and at least one moment per trip where I've wondered what we were thinking.
And then Addie tells someone what Mickey's glove felt like. Eloise asks to go back to the fish water. Both of them try gelato for the first time and declare it the best thing that has ever happened. That's the trade, and I'd make it every time.
