Welcome.

We are one of those families that chooses experiences over birthday parties.

Honestly, I would rather spend our hard earned money on memories my kids will talk about for years instead of a four hour sugar high and a pile of plastic goodie bags. Around where we live, you can’t get away with anything less than $3,000 for a birthday party anymore anyway. Gross.

What’s funny is that I used to be terrified of travel. Like genuinely anxious about it. Airports stressed me out. Flying stressed me out. Being far from home stressed me out. The anxiety around travel was nearly debilitating for years. I brought my own pillow. I was a mess. The thought of doing that with kids?
HARD PASS.

Now somehow, travel has become one of the biggest parts of our lives.

Maybe it feels different for us because we homeschool. Travel isn’t really an escape from our normal life. It’s an extension of it. Our kids don’t stop learning because we leave the house. If anything, they become even more alive out in the world.

I don’t go into trips expecting relaxation. I fully expect to spend time with my kids. Learning with them. Exploring with them. Being fully immersed in the experience alongside them.

Because these are places I genuinely want to see too.

I want to go dog sledding and hold the puppies just as much as they do.

I want to get lost searching for waterfalls to swim in.

I want to walk across terrifying suspension bridges while my children laugh and run ahead completely fearless while I silently question every decision that led me there.

I want us to figure things out together, including the time the rental car company casually handed me a Tesla at the airport like I somehow knew how to operate it.

That’s what these trips are for us.

Not perfection. Not relaxation. Not perfectly curated Instagram moments.

Real experiences.

The kind where you’re exhausted, overstimulated, probably sticky for some unknown reason, but completely alive at the same time.