The Art of Saying Yes

I think optimism is a widely admired trait.  Yet so many of us have a desperately hard time maintaining it. It's something that we've been talking about a lot lately, especially as fortunate as we are.  Both Henry and I grew up in low income brackets, he more so than I.  There was always food and a house, but there weren't a lot of extras.  We both worked our entire adult lives up to this point, and we were lucky enough to live in the US and get quality educations.  Somehow though, good fortune still brings out the pessimism in us.  How can it possibly be this good?  When is the bottom going to drop out?  We both just feel "too" lucky. 

We now have a 2 year plan to continue RVing across the US. We've started to make our way East again and plan to be in the Midwest by the end of April. After a Summer and Fall "back home", we'll be making our way to Corpus Christi, TX for the winter.  The following Spring will mean a slow trek up the East Coast with a Fall in the Midwest.  We may winter somewhere warm once again, but then...

Our current plan has us buying a sailboat at that point.  Because we have been discussing this more seriously lately, I have actively been trying to shut down the naysaying inner voice.  "What if something bad happens?" it says.  "I welcome good fortune into my life," I say.  "But what if you can't afford it?  What if the market crashes or you get robbed or...something else horrible occurs?" it says.  "I am content and capable," I say.  "We can handle whatever happens.  Now, shush!" 

It's pretty persistent, the little bugger. 

But here's what I have learned.  No matter what happens to us, we cope with it. It's not always perfect or what we expected, but we make it through.  Our successes in simply surviving should give us all confidence in the future.  Now, when we reach for something resembling greatness, we practice saying "That could totally work out! I think that's going to happen!" Or even better, "That is going to be even better than we think. Look what we've done so far!"  Trusting ourselves to handle adversity is a huge step.  We all have within us the ability to overcome.  This is, to me, what makes optimism possible and worrying such a waste of energy.

It may seem new-agey to meditate or practice affirmations, but I find that until I talk to myself differently, nothing around me changes.   There's a terrific Improv exercise in which you may only say "Yes, and..." when your partners make a suggestion, no matter how outlandish. And in the beginning, it's tremendously difficult for actors to stop saying "No, but..."  I think this is an essential trait for life.  When the idea comes to you, "Hey, I could..." your inner voice should say, "Yes! And it's going to be amazing!" 

How lazy am I?

My lack of ambition has often plagued me.  Shouldn't I want more? Is it the Midwestern upbringing?  I was taught to work hard if I wanted to succeed, that anyone can go halfway.  I was taught that when you vacuum a carpet, it has to take a certain amount of time and effort. Otherwise, you didn't do it right. I was taught that in order to get good tips, you had to hustle and stay on your toes.   I've been working, in one form or another, since I was 12 years old. I started by babysitting, because it was the only work I could get.   But in North Dakota, 14 is the working age.  So I got a job waiting tables, then at the local newspaper and then at a retail department store. I have had jobs at McDonald's and in telemarketing.  I have been on call as a manager for a group home and in sales support at a computer company.  I have held two jobs at the same time, more than once in my life, just to make ends meet.  I can remember working 8-5 after college and then standing on my feet for another 4 hours at a movie rental store.  From age 12 until age 48, I worked. That means my working life spanned roughly 36 years. 

And now, I don't know that I'll ever work again.   I am constantly surprised and a little unsettled that I'm okay with that.  Am I lazy? I certainly don't shy away from cleaning the bathroom, and if I see a dirty dish, I do it.  Wouldn't a lazy person let the dishes pile up? 

I never had lofty goals of being the best in my chosen profession.  In fact, it's specifically the reason that I chose not to pursue theater full time after college.  I had landed a sweet little gig directing children's theater productions.  It was a sought after position, and I know how lucky I was to get it. It was 12 hour days for very little pay, but it was prestigious. It was complete and utter hell.  The kids were great. Their parents, though, were another story.  In order to succeed in that world, I would have had to sacrifice much, including my own dignity and sense of worth. So, I stepped away from that career path and pursued another.  My ambition didn't go that far.

Now that I have had a pretty successful run in both radio and dog training, I find myself wondering if I should be doing something else with my time.  Retirement is notoriously rough on people with no purpose.   (Of course, the kids are a built-in purpose, so maybe judgement day is 6 years in my future.)

Then again, maybe I can agree with myself not to term it "laziness".  Maybe I can call it adaptability and contentment.  I've entered a phase where I'm happy with whatever I am doing, whenever I'm doing it.  I am able to sink into the new normal and enjoy it.   Every day, I consider the rat race that was my life before retirement and note my gratitude.  I miss absolutely nothing about Minnesota in the winter, driving from one obligation to the next on frozen, treacherous roads.  I don't miss the cold. I don't miss seeing my kids only on the weekends.   I don't even miss working (and I thought I would).  I miss the people, my friends and clients. But I don't miss the struggle.

I know how lucky I am, and I deeply appreciate everything that has led to my being able to do what we are doing now.  There are still sacrifices; of course there are.  But the payoffs far outweigh them.

Point Lobos, California

I hope that I can instill in my children this sense of gratitude.  For now, I will make that my ambition.

Walking down the middle

This was going to be a completely different post. I started with the notion that we are finally at a point in our journey where we don't have to be somewhere else by a certain time. Our time is now truly ours. 

However, I can't shake the sense of division that is instead occupying my thoughts today.  I stay as far away from politics as I can, but I have watched the political divide ruin friendships and start verbal wars this week.  And I am walking the line. I think it's the line that a lot of us want to walk right now.  It's most clearly defined as, "You have a right to your opinion."  And then I continue walking.  What happens next is often that someone on one side and then the other tries to pull me off the line.  And it's becoming pretty thin. 

There's a lot of sentiment about uniting and working together. After all, we do all have to live together.  But in practice, I'm seeing a very different reality.  When two of my closer friends are on opposite ends of the spectrum, neither of them can be wholly happy with me.  It's an incredibly uncomfortable place to be.  I'm expected to choose a side.   Alright then. Here I go.  I choose freedom.  I choose the right to freely express your views, whatever they may be.  I choose to go forward with love and kindness for all. 

Also, I voted for Johnson.  :D

Okay, so on to the journey. Are we done yet?  Well, mostly, I think so. I think we are done with having to be somewhere at a certain time.  I keep thinking we're done with it, but then something else happens to create an obligation. The latest was a happy circumstance, but it did mean traversing half the country in a pretty short period of time.  My college kiddo marched in the Holiday Bowl, which was so fun to watch.  And then he stayed with us for 12 days, 12 fun-filled, busy and expensive days. It was worth it, but I suspect a long recovery. If I'm not mistaken, we don't have plans to meet anyone else or have tickets to anything else. At least, not until July. Could this finally be the freedom we've been seeking? 


The days were indeed fun-filled.  We have been seriously indulging here, in more ways than one. We were on such a good run with eating healthier, but this area offers nothing if not great places to eat.  And because we had a guest who was basically on vacation, we went on all sorts of expensive outings.  Part of me is grateful that it's going to rain for our last few days here so that we can stop spending! 

On Monday, we leave San Diego behind and head into Northern California once again. We'll spend a couple of weeks in Solvang, near Santa Barbara before going on to see our family and friends in Napa County.  And then begins our long trek back to the familiarity of Wisconsin and Minnesota.  I completely underestimated how much I would miss our people.  Everyone on the road really has been welcoming and kind, but there is something to be said for those who know you well, whatever their politics.

Our First Christmas Away

I think I'm supposed to be depressed today.  After all, I'm away from my friends and extended family for the first time over Christmas, and we don't have a tree or any other decorations up for the season.  But I can't quite find it in me to be bummed.  We are in San Diego after a grueling 7 hour day on the road yesterday. It's just under 60 degrees here today, and this is the coldest it's going to be for our month-long stay in this area. Back in Minnesota, they've had a few record cold days and quite a bit of snow.  I keep thinking about how grateful I am that I am not driving around in that.  Between taking the kids to school, their activities, and driving to my own classes and private appointments, I was in the car almost as much as I was at home. Today, we're all hanging out together, talking about our plans as we watch the Green Bay Packers play the Minnesota Vikings.   If we were up north, we'd be on the road to see one of our families, the car full of presents, food, baggage, sour tempers and harried parents.

Instead, we are headed to the Holiday Bowl on Tuesday to see our kiddo march in the U of M band, and we made sugar cookies today. 

So we didn't have a big, holiday feast. And there are no presents under a beautifully lighted tree.   There was no running around, buying stuff we probably would never use. I didn't wrap presents only to have the floor littered with packaging as my kids tore through one present after another. I didn't spend much time in the kitchen at all, actually.  Even if I had, I'd still have been in the same room as the rest of the family.

...I am so much more relaxed! Don't get me wrong. I think all things have a place.  We have had many of those busy, packed holidays. They are great.  What we're doing now, though, is right for us at this point in our lives.  I'm happy to say that the kids are just as excited about having stockings stuffed tonight as they ever were about 10 presents under the tree.  They had just as much fun decorating and eating cookies as they did when they were little and for Santa (this year, they're just for us). 

I am feeling just as grateful this year as any other I've ever experience.  After all, this is our campground for the month:

Merry Christmas indeed! 

Ratchet Up Stress Level to HIGH

We finally made it to Texas! I was here all of one day before I heard "well, bless y'all's hearts".   I had to smile.  We're in Amarillo, and it is freezing!  I could have stayed in Minnesota for this.  There's actually snow in tomorrow's forecast.  Snow!  Yeah, that's not so fun in an RV. The walls, they be thin. Fortunately, we are all set quilt-wise, thanks to Grandma Joy and Grandma Clara. 

We're here on business, really. We need to renew my driver's license, which turns out to be the easiest thing we have to do this week. And it's not easy. Everything else is really complicated.  We need to register both new vehicles. Bought the trailer and truck in Utah.  Sent the registrations to Minnesota.  Need to register them in Texas.  We are not people who like things to be easy.  We live on the edge. 

We also need to get some other basic needs attended to.  Things like teeth cleanings and prescriptions take on a whole new level of difficulty on the road. 

As if this weren't all stressful enough, let's add in, just for fun, the fact that we don't know where we're going after this. The madness that is College Bowl games has taken over our plans, and I feel like it might break me.  Reese, our Marching Band kid, is looking at the possibility of joining the Gophers in either San Diego or Nashville for a football game...sometime in December...

You can see my issue. San Diego is West.  Nashville, as it turns out is East. 

We Type A's like plans. An awful lot.  We like order. We like for things to be in their places.

I have developed an eye twitch. 

Notice that there are no pictures or anything fun this time.  That's how stressed out I feel.  But to balance things out, here is a picture of Ethan and Erin playing pool, badly. 

I'm not even sure what he's doing there.  I mean, I'm no expert, but shouldn't the cue actually be on the table?  Even Erin, who is no shark herself, looks perplexed by what turned out to be Ethan's signature move.   I have to say, though, we loved this place.  It's so odd, but it really works.  It's the Route 66 brand spanking new RV Resort. Indoor pool and a delightful casino are included. 

 I know what you're thinking.  "I've never been in a delightful casino, Christi. They're all dirty and smell like stale people and desperation."  But this one really is different.  It's open and clean.  Maybe it'll be like every other casino in a couple of years, but right now it's really lovely.  If it weren't so cold there, I would live in Albuquerque.

Oh, before I forget to mention it, Henry and I have also started dieting together.  Because, you know, I needed some stress pimples.  We've cut out pretty much everything that makes eating fun.  In a nutshell, which is one of the few things I can still eat, we've cut all animal products out of our diet.  I caved the other day and had 12 of Erin's M&Ms and then faithfully wrote them down in my MyFitnessPal app.  They were amazing.  We'll see how long we can hold out.  Right now, the push is to just get back into shape. Why not? We have nothing else to do, right?  hahahahaha

When do we slow down?

It's been a crazy couple of weeks, again. I find myself wondering when the relaxed, retirement part of this trip starts?  We headed out of Utah and back to Nevada to have our "date" with Penn of Penn & Teller fame.  We helped to fund a movie he made, so we met he and his wife, Emily, and then went to the show.  It was a lot of fun, and my mom was there to help us enjoy it.  She had kindly flown to Vegas to babysit.  Since she left in a blizzard, it has come home to me that we should now be experiencing full on winter.  This is perhaps one of the biggest benefits of this lifestyle. I am no longer driving in wind, ice and snow.  Instead of the blizzard, we had this:

After Vegas, we spent a couple of idyllic days in Lake Havasu, Arizona and then brought Grandma to the Phoenix airport.  It was a bit hectic, more activity and driving than we would normally do. But of course, it was well worth it to have such a beloved guest. 

Now that we're in Phoenix and our "obligations" have once again ended, we hightail it to Texas. I need to renew my driver's license. We also need to register our new truck and RV as we are establishing residency there.  Why Texas?  In a word, taxes. It is one of the friendlier states in the union when it comes to taxation and establishing residency.  We will also be taking care of the nuts and bolts of new health insurance once we get there on December 5th.  We are currently using COBRA and it's incredibly expensive. I'm hoping we can do all of these things in the two weeks we'll be in Amarillo, because...

A new obligation awaits!   Yep, it looks like our Minnesota Golden Gophers are in the hunt for a Bowl Game.  The one that they're projected to attend is the Holiday Bowl. In San Diego.  California.  Where we just were for a month.  So, yeah, if that happens, we'll hightail it back to the state of questionable roads and over regulation.  Fortunately, it's also pretty gorgeous there. 

All of this is to say, we are not slowing down!   I'm starting to face the very real possibility that it won't. Ever.  Maybe that's just what it means to have a full life, I don't know.  But we have places to go and things to do once we get there.  It's made a bit more difficult in that none of it is written in stone.  This is the difference between life in Suburbia and life in an RV.  I always knew exactly where I was supposed to be and what I was supposed to be doing in the suburbs.  There was always a plan, a road map laid out neatly for me.  Now, there is no map and no real timeline except for a vague hint of "next month".  Each time we move, we have to make another reservation and project how long we want to stay.  I'm finding it a bit more stressful than I thought it would be.  Where's the boredom?  I truly thought there would be more boredom!

Uncertainty is not yet addicting.  I think I'd like a better map. 

"I wish"

We hear this a lot, actually. "I wish I could do what you are doing."  Or "I wish I could retire."  I find that being the source of someone's envy is a very uncomfortable place for me to be.  So, as I do, I thought about it way more than I probably should and came up with this.  If you want it, do it.  It's just about the trade offs.  I truly think that we are not unique. As we are discovering, there is a large (and growing) community of full-time RVers.  We thought that, by now, the attractions we are visiting would be empty.  After all, the school year is in full swing and people are settled in for the winter, right?  Well, wrong.  The attractions we've visited are perhaps not as busy as they'd be in the summer, but there are lots of people doing the same thing we're doing.  And even more surprising, many of them are doing it with kids.  So, how did we do this? 

We talked about and accepted trade offs.  The things I was willing to give up are not trivial, not at all. I gave up order and convenience. Gone are the days when I could run out to my local grocery store for 1 or 2 things.  Now, if we need milk, we have to plan for an excursion into town. Since we change locations fairly often (at least weekly right now), we have to relearn the geography.  Order is difficult to come by. 

Silence ad space are also largely gone.  When you live in close quarters with three other people, two of whom believe that the optimal volume for conversation is "jackhammer", the sane people in the household relish the hour or so after the children have gone to bed. There is nothing so blissful as the quiet of a half empty campground by a lake.  The silence may be less frequent, but it is also deeper.  And space - we don't spread out.  We don't even put something down for five minutes without someone else asking for it to be moved out of the way.  It's tidier, because it has to be. But being mindful of the space you inhabit is definitely a trade off.  

We've also given up the convenience of infrastructure in terms of our children's education, our electricity and our internet service.  The last of those is a huge, huge deal.  Having unreliable internet service may be the one thing that ultimately stops me from enjoying this lifestyle.  I wish there were a better solution than using my phone's hot spot (which is notoriously unreliable) or trying to hook up to a campground's sketchy and almost always painfully slow WiFi.  When we find that rare campground with excellent WiFi, I binge on it like the junkie that I am. 


We traded permanence for adventure.  In fact, we have doubled down on that.  We said goodbye to our dear old girl last week.  The days of living in our Class A motor home are over.  We are enjoying this adventure much more than we thought we would, so we upgraded.  We now own a truck and pull-behind travel trailer with a separate space for the kids. Their "bunkhouse" has three bunks and plenty of toy storage.  And we can unhook and take day trips without worrying about the 6 miles to the gallon we were getting with the Coachmen.  Our plan is to continue this journey for another couple of years. There's a lot to see out here, as it turns out.

If you already own a house, you can definitely afford this lifestyle.  It's much cheaper if you stay a week or a month in one location.  And it's cheaper yet if you dry camp without any hookups at all.  There are plenty of places where this is possible.  I have given up driving all over a Metro all day and working more than I wanted in order to afford living in our mortgaged-to-the-hilt house.  The trailer  has plenty of room for all four of us, and the payment is a fraction of our mortgage.  I've given up seeing my children for a few minutes a day.  I've also given up waking up at 6am.  If you're truly willing to give up convenience and predictability, the trade off is fantastic views, lazier days and beautiful weather.  All the time.  I say, it's worth it - at least for now.