We’ve moved 14 times in 15 years. All voluntarily. We aren’t running from the law. Jobs, graduate school, adventure, more jobs, more graduate school, overseas opportunities, etc. Even when we’re planted for a few years, we travel for every holiday. My kids are accustomed to moving and to embracing the unknown. My nine-year-old has the skills to navigate mass transit; I haven’t yet let her travel alone, but she could. They’ve learned how to make friends upon landing. Most sadness can be overcome with the promise of bubble wrap dancing. It’s a noisy outcome but it does cure the blues.
Over the holidays we took them on the road for 2 weeks to live out of 4 suitcases and see how we faired. My partner and I dream of travelling overseas for a semester, so we thought this would be a safe trial run. The trip was an absolute success. Here the girls are exploring Tom Sawyer’s island at Disney, plotting their next adventure:
When we returned home, Piper put down her suitcase, unpacked her beloved Pinky, and just to be sure she was ready for our next move asked, “So, we’re home, right? When do we have to check out of this place?” Poor nomadic children or well-adjusted little explorers? You decide.