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As a mother of three teenage boys, the saying “The days are long but the years are short” has never resonated more with me than it has.
Gone are the mornings when my boys wrapped their arms around me and blew drool-smeared kisses, when their warm, fuzzy limbs curled up with me on the couch listening to stories, when we watched the seasons change on our leisurely walks to school, when cardboard box forts and Matchbox car race tracks and Lego pieces covered every inch of our floor.
I’ve been thinking about how little time we have under one roof as a family, especially with the number of summers left before the kids leave home already in the single digits.
It seems like my social algorithms are also caught up in this sentiment, as I often come across articles that draw attention to the idea that, on average, by the time a child turns 18, they have already spent roughly 90% of their time with their parents. The remaining 10% is spread out over the decades until the parents pass away. I didn’t know the origins of this hypothesis, but it seems true to me.
During childhood, we spend a large part of our lives at home with our families, but when we grow up and leave home to start an eventful life with our own families, only the traces of time remain with our parents.
My husband and I rarely see our parents.
My husband’s family lives nearby, so we see them about twice a month, but my family lives a few states away, so we only get to see them once every few years. When our kids were little, we made the 1,400-mile, 21-hour drive from Chicago to Montana.
The point is, we did our best to visit my parents with our three small children in tow, but as the years went by and our lives got better (and we had more money), we saw them less and less.
Now, as a professional travel writer, one of the perks of the job is the opportunity to collect miles and points to travel the world. We travel a lot as a family of five, and these adventures have brought us incredible joy and bonding time.
But when we’re at home, our teens are scattered and doing their own thing. From work schedules to after-school clubs to hangouts with friends to long hours of screen time, it can sometimes feel like I barely see my loved ones. But when we go out somewhere, they’re all mine.
A vacation alone with my middle child
In June, I took my youngest son on a just-the-two adventure to Greece. When I’m home, I try my best to carve out time alone with each of my kids. My youngest and I play chess, my middle son goes running with me, and my oldest and I walk the dog. But sometimes routines and obligations get in the way, and it’s hard to carve out quality time without the distractions of other siblings and the hustle and bustle of the household.
Plucking one puppy from the wild pack and taking him on a big adventure allows us to strengthen our bond while the other two strengthen their relationships at home. And with his father. Travelling with one child One moment at a time, I can see him as he is, share and learn without being hindered. I have done this with all my sons, but this time with my middle son. turn around.
Our trip began in Rafina, a port town near Athens, where we frolicked on the pebble beach, visited the Chapel of Agios Nicholas, enjoyed a delicious dinner, and then set off on a week-long walking trip around the islands of Paros, Naxos, and Santorini.
We loved hiking along Santorini’s volcanic caldera from Fira to Oia, a six-mile cliff path covered in volcanic soil, pumice and lava. The contrast between the sparkling Aegean views and the rugged rustic terrain, whitewashed architecture and blue-domed churches was a highlight for me.
My son, with his brown hair and beryl eyes, loved to walk from the little family inn to the port of Fira, careful not to get trampled by the dozens of hardworking mules plying the same path.
We played a card game called “Slapjack” and drew little sketches of each other while we waited for dinner. We wandered the winding cobblestone streets of our little village to help my son find the perfect yellow necklace for his girlfriend.
On our evening walks, we watched and admired the sunset in silence. We chuckled every time our walking guide said “never, never” when explaining a Greek custom. Now it’s our secret joke that we tell each other.
These trips taught me who my sons are.
I’m grateful that I’ve had a career that allows me to travel with my sons, and I’ve gotten to know them as unique people apart from their siblings.
But what I’ve learned after years of doing this with my sons is that it’s important to view everyday events not as chores or inconveniences, but as opportunities to bond. Trips to the grocery store or running around the neighborhood with my tummy tucked can be just as meaningful and impactful as long playtimes on international trips, and they’re probably more sustainable as our relationship grows.
Shooting photos in Greece with my smart and brave son has been fun, but even as he moves out of the house and becomes independent, making time for him while he’s still at home continues to be a priority for me.