WHAT MAKES A MEMORY?

I took these photos on a trip that involved two kids as they puked what appeared to be decomposed avocados into my hair, being awakened twice by spiders crawling on me in bed, showering willy nilly with a scorpion and slamming my neck on a concrete skate ramp. 

This isn’t to say I’m not grateful for the experience, sometimes the beauty of certain moments just isn’t immediately obvious. It may take years for me to look back fondly on the fact that Isla almost fell down the airport escalator or that we called the hospital in San Jose because we were worried the barfing had gone on for too long.

One thing I know to be true: you have to earn memories. And sometimes that requires struggle (even spiders and puke). 

After some mezcal one night, Scott said “We get so afraid to break patterns and see what’s possible. We start tweaking out and going down this rabbit hole of reasons ‘why not’ to do something”. Being an expert tweaker-outer, I had already catalogued my reasons for not doing a trip like this again until everyone understands not to open their mouths in the shower, but I knew what he meant.

This trip made me ask “Who are we without the comforts of home?” and I guess that’s a good question to answer (even if the answer is that I’m a little more delirious and wild-eyed). I’m closer to being the person 80 year old me will want to remember. Someone who believed in adventure enough to pack a bunch of toddlers onto an airplane and drive out into the desert for a swell.

The desert is a museum of sensory pleasures for children. The bottom of the ocean, resurfaced. Its many critters something your air-conditioned home could never sustain.

Baja, with its unpaved roads and rugged beauty reminded me of the freedom we all have just to be. 

My point is, traveling with small kids is not a hopeless case. Someday these maniac babies will become travelers, with all the memories they made with their family as a catalyst for their own adventures.