Q: How was your trip?
A: Life changing.
Q: Glad to be home?
A: Yes.
Q: How are you all adjusting?
A: Okay…
We’re committed to keeping our answers short as we’ve realized talking about our year long “trip” is not like recapping a week’s vacation because in fact we didn’t really take a trip at all. Rather we chose to live outside of our normal suburban life for a year: in a tiny house with very little material possessions, homeschooling, and unplugged. It is the weight of what we learned in these three factors that is packed into short answers of: A: Life-changing A: Yes and A: Okay…
This is the reality behind our abbreviated replies.
I’ve spoken candidly about living in 300 square feet before, and while our proximity to one another was difficult it was the lack of difficulty we had in having so little material possession that surprised us. We each had a tub of clothes. Each child had stuffed animals and a small bin of toys. We had just enough food for each week, school supplies, books, and 300 square feet to put it in. And we didn’t miss a thing.
In fact we gained something that made a lasting impact. Time. Cleaning the house? 20 minutes flat. Laundry? We wore it into the ground and did one load every two weeks. Decorating for the holidays? Construction paper and markers. Errands? None. Yard work? None. Shopping? One Walmart stop every two weeks where we bought essentials. Upon our return I am becoming overwhelmed by the time and the cost required to do this life.
This life necessitates I run an errand almost daily leaving me shocked at how much time I dedicate to this pursuit of goods. When I am in the car “running errands” I feel like I’m going through the stages of grief over the loss of time! Denial – I’m just swinging by Target for one thing which is necessary. Anger – Wait, why have I dedicated an entire morning to look for seamless socks, a picture frame, dance tights, and clothes for our family Christmas pictures? My favorite family picture finds us sitting on the edge of the Grand Canyon in outfits we’d most likely not washed for a week. Bargaining – No, this is necessary. I need these items and I will not get distracted by the dollar section this time. Depression – I’m in the dollar section. Acceptance – This is okay. I love Target. It makes me happy and I also got a latte which is nice. I belong here.
This life dictates a pattern of errand running is simply a natural part of my day.
And the cost. I am dropping an insane amount of money each day doing suburbia. I just bought a gymnastic leotard, a dance leotard and tights, tap and ballet shoes, and squeezed out at a mere $110 yesterday, but today’s running tally has me at $180 – and this is not figuring in the daily cost of running suburban home in water and electricity – as I sign one kid up for track, buy groceries for school lunches my children may or may not actually eat, a birthday present, pledge for a fundraiser at a stop light, oh, and buy another pack of socks because for the love we cannot get out of the door at 6:50 in the morning until the sock seam is perfect, and it never is, never. This life is expensive.
After not spending for a year, it has brought a consciousness to spending that I never had before. I was always aware of our budget, but not always conscious of why I was buying. But here’s where the adjustment has been hard. At around $30 a day in a National Park we were happier than we’ve ever been and it cost almost nothing. Every time I slide the card I am now so painfully aware of the fact that I DO NOT NEED it. Society dictates that I need it, I can laugh and say I don’t need it then buy it anyway, but I have now lived in a world where we were actually happier without it.
Q: Adjusting?
Real A: Well, I don’t know what to do with that. I slide the card, I waste hours “running errands” all the while feeling lost. I don’t know… something is missing, and it isn’t this stuff I’m buying.
Missing too is my family. I work from home, so for eight hours a day my home is silent. While I am not complaining, I miss my people. I’ve decided everyone should have to teach their own children for at least 6 months. People. Now I know. And when the teacher calls, preach sister, I believe you. I taught that kid too. You will send those teachers all of the supplies, gifts, and class donations they want with no complaint! And they do it with 25 a day versus our 1! All the praise. But here’s the thing, homeschooling gives you time to teach more than just school.
Knowing what a unique opportunity we had ahead of us, I sat down at the start of our year and considered, what I wanted us to walk away with. Yes, I wanted to ensure my children had a solid first and third grade education, but there was more. What do we want from our marriage in this time? What do I want in our relationship with our children? What do I want my children to remember? To learn? How do I want our faith to grow? It stuck me that I was doing this for the first time. How is it that I had never sat down before and considered my intentions for the month? The season? The year? I don’t; we just DO this thing called life day in and day out. But, if you always do what you’ve always done, won’t you continue to get the same results? Why was this the first time I considered the desired outcome of a season of our lives? How had I missed this in nine years of parenting? Sure I had tackled potty training, temper tantrums, and curbed my propensity to yell all with the latest high quality research from high-quality sources like Facebook and HuffPost, but as I considered building confidence, responsibility, family bonds, and faith and began making plans on how I would do this, I realized the weight of what I had missed in being intentional in my parenting. I saw the opportunity I had stretched out before me. This was different than ensuring they had good teachers, went to summer camps, extracurriculars, and Sunday school. This was about me. What was I going to do to ensure the outcomes I wanted in my marriage, my children, and in my family?
And so I planned. And throughout our year on road I had the time to execute, daily, and it was life changing. Now that we’re home, we’re once again lacking time. They come home and the only thing I have time to be intentional about is homework, showers, dinner, and bedtime. Regular life is just so busy. Where is the time to be intentional? I have skipped conversations and teachable moments multiple nights because I just did not have the time or the energy. I’m watching one sweet child revert back into some behaviors we had worked hard to correct on the trip because again it takes a tremendous amount of my time and energy to keep that behavior in check and I’m finding that a little harder to come by these days.
Q: Adjusting?
Real A: … I am trying to find the time.
The only thing I have found we’ve held onto is the time lost in technology. It took us a while to get used to having no connectivity on the road, but then it was just normal. And we love our technology as much as everyone else, but I don’t need to tell you what it does for a family without. I don’t know how long it will last, but living unplugged and outside for a year planted something deep in our souls. We need to be outside. We feel like we’re suffocating when inside these days. We want to buy a new camper, we want to haul the tent out and go camping again, we want to load the bikes on the Jeep and ride. I love what it did to us. We miss the adventure, we miss seeing our country, we miss the mountains, we miss hiking, we miss reveling in God’s creation. I love how it has brought new awareness to our days, appreciation of our surroundings and a love of being outside. We’re excited to get out there again… we just have to check the calendar and plan a time.
So, yes. It was life changing, but we are so happy to be home. We came home with summer stretched out ahead of us. Shawn and I got jobs, our home was filled with kids, laughter, and noise. They played hard, and life has been filled that which was certainly missing – our friends and our family. We love our life at home deeply. In fact our transition was almost too easy. We blinked and it was over. It’s part of why I’ve struggled to write this post at all. Life as it was resumed, yet we continue to have a foot in both worlds with no idea what this means for us as we continue to just adjust.