But they won't remember it

And other ideas I don't believe about traveling with kids

It’s not unusual to be met with a friend’s skeptical expression when I tell them about all the places we’ve already traveled with our now 3.5-year-old and what we have lined up this year as a family of four. Long before kids were a reality, the conversation was—and still is—constant about how we would ensure our identity as travelers wasn’t completely put on hold in the early years of growing our family.

I don’t want to paint a picture that isn’t rooted in reality. Our pace has slowed down in every way over the past four years. We don’t travel as often, and we don’t usually go as far or stay as long. Our hikes are more like walks. We’ve dreamed up entire itineraries and decided to pass because we ultimately weren’t sure if the juice was worth the squeeze.

But, that aside, the act of travel, no matter how big or small, is still a core part of our identity. It’s something we prioritize, even in a stage of life where things can be, well, a little complicated.

It’s been interesting talking to people about the reasons they don’t prioritize traveling with their kids. Some are simply uncomfortable with the unknown scenarios that could arise and be highly undesirable to deal with (cancelled flights, long delays, sickness… to name a few). Others don’t want to embark on trips of significance until their children are old enough to remember the experience. Some don’t find it all that fun, given the schlepping, hauling, tantrums, and mess that often come with it.

I won’t for one second pretend that these reasons haven’t crossed my mind as we’ve made some of our destination decisions, or even triggered alarm bells in my head while we’ve experienced the scenarios above. But I’ve accepted that they simply don’t make the cut as reasons not to travel with our girls.

Schönbrunn Palace, Vienna

Even though my children aren’t at an age where I expect them to remember much of what we’ve done so far, what I’ve found is that these trips become reference points in our family story. Through photos on the walls, trinkets we bring back home, and verbal retellings of our experiences, there are imprints of the trips that leave a lasting impression on their little lives. It’s not just about the memories themselves, but the collective experience and the learning that matters so much more. They also learn to be more adaptable to different types of days, paces, places, and much more simply by having their routine disrupted and switching things up.

I’ve experienced indescribable joy while traveling with kids. Seeing the world through my daughters’ eyes as they experience things for the first time is something I honestly don’t have adequate words for. Sprinting feet down a boardwalk to get to the sand as fast as possible. Face pressed into the glass wall of a gondola to see cows with bells in a valley below. Laughing with abandon riding on a suitcase through the airport. Seeing a train for the first time. Confidently walking in front of us to get to a palace to see where the princesses live. You just can’t beat it.

I’ve realized that I quite frankly refuse to press pause until “it is comfortable enough” to travel with them. Think of all the things we will miss out on if we wait. I don’t have it in me to do that. I don’t have it in me to wait until we don’t have the question marks in our heads about if the flight will go ok or if we might have to evacuate the dance floor in the middle of dinner.

As we enter peak travel season leading into the summer holidays—and our first major traveling season as a family of four—I’m romanticizing all the special memories we’ll make, the experiences we’ll have, and, of course, anticipating a few bumps and lessons learned along the way.