Surviving the Family Road Trip

When my husband suggested driving to Florida for spring break, I was not exactly supportive. And I wasn’t alone. Sympathetic friends tried to dissuade him, then pondered what might be included in the inevitable column about the disasters of travelling 2,400 miles in the car with two children. And I pondered how I would tell our tale without damaging our marriage.

On top of the long car ride, the destination was one that we had just visited last month after our stumble through Disney. “It’s all about the journey,” said my idealistic spouse. I half-listened while thinking about how the children barely make it through twenty minutes in the car without fighting, teasing, screaming. Twenty hours? Yes, that will be a journey all right.

His one convincing selling point was our children’s interest in hotels. They love hotels, riding the elevators, swimming in the pools, and sampling assorted pastries at the free breakfasts. In addition, they have recently proven that they will actually sleep in hotels (though I still find myself awake most of the time primed for one of them to wake up or roll off the bed). So I gave in and packed up the car.

For a moment, it seemed as though this trip might not happen, or at least that it was cursed. My son was ill the day before the journey so we moved our departure from night to very early the next morning. Then, after a successful pre-dawn launch (note that the one day my kids don’t wake me up at 4 am, I have to get up at 4 am), we almost had to return home with car troubles. When that turned out to be a false alarm, I was a little disappointed. We were still going.

My husband handled the bulk of the driving without complaint. When he drove, he kept himself alert by asking me questions about the local geography, and doing mental math to calculate our average speed, how far we had traveled, how far we had to go, and how far we would have been if we had left at various different times from various different places. When I drove, I kept alert by drinking Diet Coke and singing every song that played on the radio. Trust me, after 2,400 miles, I can tell you which songs are overplayed, no matter how much I like them. Taylor and “Hey-Ho” guys, I’m talking to you (though for some reason, I never get tired of Adam Levine).

We were driving my husband’s sedan instead of my SUV, a decision I questioned until I witnessed another father at a rest stop trying to shut his SUV hatch over a wall of belongings while random things kept dropping out of one side or another. Then I was happy to have our (much more limited) stuff contained in the trunk. Not only could it not be seen, but it also could not be accessed on a whim by me or the kids climbing over the back seat while cruising in the left lane of the highway. And my children didn’t think they had a large rectangular cube to fill up before we left.
But the stars of the week had to be the kids. They were outstanding passengers. They never said, “Are we there yet?” In fact, they never wanted to get out of the car. Of course, this was not our parents’ road trip, where we had to entertain ourselves looking for assorted state license plates, and playing magnetic checkers. In fact, any magnets would have destroyed our entertainment, which was all electronic. We had so many cords and chargers strung out in the back seat it looked like a spider’s web.

In all, we were on the road for two days down and two days home. Stops at “South of the Border” and Savannah satisfied my need for some small adventure (though these “long” stops tortured the others). And finding a Rainforest Café on the way home was a bonus for the kids. As for the hotels – well, that was a bait and switch. On this trip, there was no relaxing poolside. We arrived in time for bed then departed as early as possible to get back on the road. After all, we wanted to have vacation days left to spend at our destination before we had to turn around and come back. I did draw the line at moving our children from the bed to the car before sunrise and missing the breakfast bar too.

When we arrived home, I admitted to my husband that “it was not as bad as I thought.” To me, this meant “At least we are all still speaking to each other.” My husband has translated it as, “Let’s go again!” (Groan)

Introverted Mom

A wise frog once said, “It's not easy being green. It seems you blend in with so many other ordinary things, and people tend to pass you over 'cause you're not standing out like flashy sparkles in the water or stars in the sky.”

When I was a child, I thought that Kermit was talking about the difficulties of being, well, green. But listening to his words recently with my daughter, I realized that he was talking about the challenges of being introverted in our very extroverted world. I’m embarrassed to admit that my eyes welled up with tears, and this song has become a bit of an anthem for me, as I have been struggling with this dilemma for as long as I can remember.

Recently, other introverts have started to speak out as well. Susan Cain’s book Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking was on multiple bestseller lists, and she was a featured author at the Darien Library last fall. Additionally, Sophia Dembling, author of The Introvert’s Corner blog for Psychology Today published The Introvert’s Way: Living A Quiet Life in a Noisy World.

These authors point out that the definitions of “introvert” and “extrovert” are complex. Many of us have some combination of both traits, and we may not fit an expected stereotype. Introverts are not necessarily “antisocial” or “loners” or even “shy”. The fundamental characteristic distinguishing introverts from extroverts is their internal energy source. While extroverts get energy from being around others, introverts refuel with quiet time alone. Extroverts thrive with a lot of external stimulation, while introverts are more easily overwhelmed. Introverts like me still enjoy socializing but with fewer, close friends, and in shorter intervals.

In college and in the corporate world, I knew my introversion would be a challenge. I took small steps to connect with others and challenged myself to build a career in the extroverted business of advertising. But I never considered how my introverted nature would affect my role as a mom. I assumed being home all day with my little minions would be perfect for my introverted soul. But I’m finding it’s even harder to be an introverted mom than it was to be an introverted ad executive.

This suburban oasis is filled with “achievers”, “leaders”, and “stars”. Even the stay-at-home parents often leave high profile careers, and take their outgoing Type A personalities to the playgrounds and the PTOs. I try to join in, volunteer my time, and host events, but I get palpitations just writing about it here. It feels like every group is filled with teams of friends who choose to conduct their activities in tandem while I go solo, sit quietly in the corner, and participate in simple ways when needed, sometimes admittedly resenting the resulting loss of a rare quiet hour.

While I know the constant barrage of input from children can be truly overwhelming to any parent, it is tougher for the introverted parent because of our need for quiet time to recharge. Weekends are the least relaxing of my days despite our limited schedules and my husband’s availability to share the load because there are just too many people around. The constant activity, noise, requests, clutter build-up, and need for my attention completely wear me down. The result is not always pretty. I also worry that my need for solitude could become a hindrance to my children’s social lives. I don’t want them stuck at home because I am uncomfortable joining in.

Even the books which speak to growing up as an introvert, finding success in a workplace that rewards more extroverted behaviors, and parenting the introverted child, do not provide much information about surviving as an introverted mom. But luckily I found some introverted moms online (of course!). They shared tips to balance down time with social activities that aren’t overwhelming. For example, having playdates at a park or museum with built-in entertainment instead of at home may provide a good balance of activity for the children and quiet time for the parents. Inviting one family over for a casual dinner may be easier to handle than hosting a big gathering. Scheduling rest time daily and emphasizing softer indoor voices can bring down the stimulation level at home. Wandering supermarket aisles alone when childcare is available can offer a relaxing break.

In their books, both Cain and Dembling speak to the fact that many introverts can be pseudo-extroverts when the situation requires it. “But in the long run,” says Cain, “staying true to your temperament is the key to finding work you love and work that matters.” And, this means making family time work for you as well.

Like Kermit,“I am green and it'll do fine, it's beautiful, and I think it's what I want to be.”