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Deep thoughts on education and travel

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To what extent would a pricey school prevent us from doing this?

Would a pricey school tuition prevent us from doing this?

The grownups of this family are in the throes of decision time over here. The question: Where to send L (and, eventually, R) for kindergarten (and beyond).

Settling on a final answer has been challenging. In California, we are lucky enough to have a host of options: straight public, public charter, private, private parochial, and more. Because Powerwoman and I are researchers by nature (translation: because we’re total overachievers), we have investigated, toured and applied to nearly a half-dozen schools. With one of the deadlines bearing down on us next week, it’s proverbial crunchtime.

Ultimately, our decision will be based on a variety of factors. There certainly have been lots of issues to consider, including educational philosophy, class size, arts programs, and more. Of course another biggie is cost—not only because some of the schools are expensive, but also because every dollar we spend on school is one less dollar we can spend on travel.

To some of you readers, this notion of potentially sacrificing travel for the sake of mainstream education might seem trivial (or, maybe, short-sighted). For us, however, it’s a serious issue—not necessarily a deal-breaker, but a biggie.

Travel is a huge part of how this family rolls. My wife and I are committed to broadening our daughters’ perspectives on the world by spending at least one month out of every year living in a new place. Heck, we just wrapped up a four-month stint of living in London! We’re also committed to exploring through shorter trips, as well. Case in point: Next month, we’re headed to Yosemite National Park as a family for the first time ever.

From a practical perspective, Powerwoman and I also work to weave travel into the overall fabric of our girls’ education. This means our trips incorporate learning at every turn. We don’t just go to the beach and sloth. We go to the beach, and by DOING, EXPERIENCING and EMBRACING new things over the course of the day, we share lessons about geography and biology and botany and history and a whole host of other disciplines. We also strive to incorporate the journey into the overall experience; yes, those 6-hour road trips and ten-hour plane trips are challenging, but they also are great opportunities to bond with our girls.

In short, travel isn’t something we’re willing to sacrifice. Which means we’ve been thinking long and hard about putting ourselves into a position that could endanger our resources to do it.

This blog post isn’t the forum to diagram our answer—how and where we choose to school our kids is a private decision and one we’ll make privately. Nevertheless, because this is a travel blog, because travel is such a huge part of our world, I thought it was important to share some of our biggest concerns here, and solicit input and feedback from you.

What’s your take? How would you reconcile this conundrum? If you’re a parent who already has been there and done that, which way did you go and why? If you’re currently dealing with these issues, what are the issues that are keeping you up at night? Sharing your opinions on this subject could help Powerwoman and me—all of us, really—make the most informed decisions possible. I’m all ears.

The Importance of Being Kind

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We have to set an example when we travel. For them.

We have to set an example when we travel. For them.

Respect and kindness are big themes in our family these days, as we’re working with L and R to make sure they (don’t beat the snot out of each other and) always treat others the way they want others to treat them.

That’s precisely why this post, by “Mindful Dad” Josh Misner, resonated so strongly this week.

In the story, which was published on Misner’s blog and then on Huffpost Parents, Misner recounted a recent travel experience during which he behaved badly toward an airline customer service agent in front of his 6-year-old son. He then shared a wonderful anecdote about what happened next: Misner realized the error of his ways, and apologized to the customer service agent in front of his boy.

The story moved me for a number of reasons. For starters, it was a powerful reminder of the importance of leading by example, that our kids learn how to travel—and to treat others in general—by watching us. I also took comfort in reading another dad’s take on the whole notion of managing frustration when traveling with the extended family. The reality: when presented with disruptive delays while traveling with little ones, sometimes it can be really difficult to keep your cool.

Finally, the piece bolstered my opinion that the travel industry needs more families as customers.

Think about it—if Misner had been traveling alone, if he hadn’t realized his behavior was setting a bad example for his son, would he have made the effort to apologize and do the right thing? I’m guessing no. And I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have.

One could argue that responsible parents traveling with kids actually make the skies (and airports, for that matter) a friendlier place to be. That’s something from which everyone can benefit.

To what extent do you meter your behavior when you travel with kids?

Making Up for Lost Time

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Back in action here in California.

Back in action here in California.

Eating Fro-Yo at our neighborhood sweet shoppe. Climbing rocks at the playground with the fossilized ammonites. Listening to the wind chimes on our back patio. Winding up the butterfly music box.

These are just some of the activities our daughters talked about when they longed for home during the four months we spent in London.

They also happened to be some of the first things we went and did upon our return.

We’ve been home more than six weeks now, and the must-do’s are still flowing freely. Every morning, L insists on donning one of the princess dresses she had left at home, just because she “missed them.” Every afternoon, R likes to do the same with those of her bead necklaces that didn’t make the trip.

On one level, these rituals are as much part of the re-acclimatization process as they are touchstones; by reconnecting with the stuff they loved most before we left, the girls are getting more and more accustomed to the notion of being home.

On another level, L and R simply are rediscovering their stuff, a process that is, at the same time, comforting and fun.

(R, upon “finding” a stuffed Pooh in her room last week, exclaimed, “I got Pooh!”)

If you think about it, we grownups engage in some of the same behaviors. The entire time we spent in London, I (literally) dreamed about coming home and eating a giant burrito; when we finally got back to our home in Northern Sonoma County, that’s exactly what I did. Powerwoman had her fantasies, too; four months of anticipation made a massage from her local masseuse even more relaxing.

The lessons here are to give in to these very natural longings, to let our kids miss their stuff.

You’ve heard the (British) phrase, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” right? Well IMHO, the best ways for us parents to help kids return to “normal” after a family trip are to encourage them to miss their stuff back home and indulge them with the chances to make up for lost time.

If we’re doing things right, effects of the process will be twofold: relief in the short-term, followed by a renewed desire to get away again down the road.

What do you look forward to doing or eating upon returning from a long trip?

Hope for Family Travelers on Planes

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Kate. Photo by Shanell Mouland.

Kate.

The Internet has been abuzz this week with praise for a tear-jerking essay from Shanell Mouland, the woman behind Go Team Kate.

The story was titled, “Dear ‘Daddy’ in Seat 16C,” and was published Jan. 9. In it, Mouland recounts an anecdote from a recent flight with her 3-year-old daughter, Kate, who has autism. Details of the story are irrelevant here (honestly, I encourage you to gather some tissues and read the piece yourself). The bottom line: The dude who sat next to Kate was just a really good human being.

Over the course of the multi-hour flight, the guy smiled at the child. He engaged her. He let her touch his computer. He even played turtles with her. And at no point did he make it seem as if Kate or Shanell were annoying him or invading his personal space. He was just a good guy.

I loved the story for a number of reasons.

First, as a parent, it’s uplifting to hear about a stranger going out of his way to be kind to someone else’s kid. Second, as a supporter of the autism community (I’ve done work for AbilityPath), it’s wonderful to read about someone treating a child on the Spectrum with the kind of patience and respect these children deserve.

Finally, as a blogger, I love the bigger picture. At a time when airlines get kudos for segregating family travelers and passengers seem to enjoy ganging up on those of us who travel with kids, this story was a welcome breath of fresh air, a feel-good example of the reality that there still are some people who fly the “friendly” skies.

The piece left me feeling hopeful that maybe, just maybe, the prevailing attitudes about family travelers on airplanes can soften and change.

We just need more people like the Daddy in 16C. And we need to hear more stories like his.

Bitten by the Bug

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The Villano Family: Coming to a hillside near you.

The Villano Family: Coming to a hillside near you.

My friends warned me. They told me that after spending four months living with my family in London, I’d come back yearning to get the kids out on the road again ASAP. They joked that we’d all catch “the [travel] bug” and return to Wine Country, only to liquidate our assets and start a nomadic life.

Heck, one buddy bet me we’d never actually come home.

While I’m proud to announce that the gambling friend lost, the other predictions haven’t been too far afield. And the fallout has caught this family travel blogger by surprise.

Things developed rapidly over the last few weeks. The day after we got home (Christmas Eve day), my wife and I swore we’d keep our girls in one place for a while. We informed the girls of our decision and they seemed to be on board. L, our older daughter, went so far as to declare that she did not want to step foot in an airplane for “at least a few months, or ever again, unless it was a plane that went somewhere cool.” R, the younger sister, agreed in her own way, stating that airplanes were loud and her ears didn’t want to hear them again for a while.

We held these beliefs for at least a week. Then, just about the moment we were completely unpacked, everyone’s perspective began to change. During a session building Legos, I told the girls about the Legoland Hotel and they insisted we book a trip. Then we started looking at flights for a trip to Texas. And we discussed a trip to Walt Disney World. And we started planning a trip to Lanai.

These were just the family trips. At the same time, we grown-ups were making plans of our own.

Powerwoman started planning a solo trip to help her best friend shop for a wedding dress. I lined up work trips to Los Angeles, Seattle, Las Vegas, and San Diego, to name a few. Then my wife and I recruited the grandparents to watch the girls so we could fly back to New York.

In a span of two weeks, we Villanos went from a policy of “No New Trips” to booking nearly 10 of them. And I’m sure there’ll be more.

No, we’re not planning on selling the house and hitting the road for good (though there is a high likelihood we’ll take an RV to Yosemite National Park this spring). But we *did* catch the family travel fever, and especially while our girls are still young, it’s a wonderful affliction to have.

How quickly after a big family trip do you plan your next escape?

Jet Lag Exorcism

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L and her Legos. Sometime between 4 and 6 a.m.

L and her Legos. Sometime between 4 and 6 a.m.

We contemplated bringing in some priests this week to save our older daughter from the mysterious entity that had possessed her.

Then, after enduring L’s hitting and kicking and scratching and biting and screaming and writhing around like a maniac, Powerwoman and I realized it wasn’t a demon that possessed our girl, but instead just a really horrid case of jet lag.

We should have seen it coming. That first night—Christmas Eve, actually—she woke up for the day at 2 a.m. On the three nights that followed, she woke up at 4 a.m. In between, the child fought naps as if she were an ultimate fighter and they were an opponent in UFC 168. It was a recipe for cataclysmic disaster.

Everyone told us coming home from England was easy. Stay awake until 8 or 9 p.m. the first few nights, they said, and catching up on the eight hour time difference will be a cinch.

For the grownups, this advice rang true. For the kids, however, it was easier said than done.

I mean, really, how does one force a child to “stay awake,” especially when she is falling asleep on her feet, at the dinner table, in the car, and just about everywhere in between? At what point does the whole drive to beat jet lag become inhumane? What’s more, with kids who are so sensitive to subtle changes in the sleep schedule to begin with, to what extent is it worth bending over backward at all?

Thankfully, today, our kind, creative and loving child reclaimed her body and we called off the exorcism. What we learned over the course of this past week: There’s no way to predict how jet lag will affect your children, and there’s no way to minimize the effects of it on your kids.

I guess I could couch this epiphany another way. Last decade, Sportscaster Dan Patrick coined the phrase, “You can’t stop him, you can only try to contain him.” Patrick meant for those words to describe athletes who left their opponents helpless on defense. He could have been talking about jet lag in relation to kids.

Next time we complete an international flight, we’ll just resign ourselves to a few days of parenting hell. At some point, it has to get easier for all of us. Right?

What are your suggestions for minimizing the effects of jet leg on kids?

‘Smartening Up’ the Family Trip

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One great poet; one great vacation

One great poet; one great vacation

It would have been easy for us to play off last week’s trip to Grasmere, in England’s Lake District, as an extended goodie run.

After all, one of the reasons we traveled there from our vacation rental outside of Penrith was to visit the Grasmere Gingerbread Shop, a tiny little bakery that has used the same recipe for the better part of the last 200 years.

But the town also is the final resting place of poet William Wordsworth, and both Powerwoman and I really wanted to pay respects and see his grave. So we did what any travel- and poetry-obsessed set of parents would do: We whipped out the Wordsworth in an attempt to get the girls excited for our true modus operandi.

At first, they resisted. Then, following a reading (parts) of “Lines Written a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey” and some of the “Lucy Poems” (including “Strange fits of passion I have known”), they softened a bit, and actually started having fun.

By the time we actually made it to downtown Grasmere, both kids had been exposed to a healthy dose of Romanticism (I’m talking about the approach to poetry, not the notion of Mom and Dad being all lovey-dovey). And they thoroughly got into it.

As we walked through the cemetery toward Wordsworth’s grave, L whipped off some poems of her own, referring to herself as “Tennyson,” another poet we mentioned during the lesson.

R, of course, mimicked her sister, celebrating her accomplishments by chanting the word, “poem.”

For the rest of the trip (three more days at that point), the girls created dozens of their own poems—engaging in a sort of toddler rap. Every time they came up with one they liked, they mentioned Wordsworth and other poets about whom we had taught them. Some of the biggest winners were recited 40 or 50 times.

We certainly didn’t expect the trip to become such a celebration of words; we were just sharing some history.

Still, for us, the lesson was simple: Even if you think the kids might be “too young” for something, you never know when new information might strike their fancy, when a little knowledge might take them a long way. Powerwoman and I liken this to “smartening up” a vacation. In our experience, it can enhance even the quickest and seemingly boring vacations.

Sure, there’s a chance this new information will go straight over their heads. But by not sharing it, you risk the kids learning less about the new experiences they have. And in our family, that simply isn’t a risk we wish to take.

What sorts of knowledge/information do you attempt to pass down to your kids while traveling?

Lessons from a Travel Etiquette Survey

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What's worse at 30,000 feet: These, or bad parenting?

What’s worse at 30,000 feet: These, or bad parenting?

It’s no secret that I think most airlines could improve the way they treat family travelers. Still, some of the findings of a recent study published by Expedia (in the interest of full disclosure, a client) and Northstar have me bummed out.

This data, part of the 2013 Airplane Travel Etiquette Study, indicates that “inattentive parents” are the most offensive airplane etiquette violators in the skies today. A whopping 41 percent of 1,001 survey respondents tabbed slothful parents for the top spot. (Other offenders in the Top 5: rear-seat kickers, smelly passengers, drunkards and chatty Cathies.)

Do I agree that inattentive parents are a scourge in the skies? I do. But I also know that not all traveling parents are inattentive. The fact that these parents annoy other travelers SO MUCH puts the rest of us moms and dads in a bad spot. It makes us guilty by association—just because we fly with kids.

There’s a bigger problem here, too—the notion that lousy parents are THE WORST of the etiquette offenders.

Under-supervised kids are annoying in any setting, don’t get me wrong. But are they more annoying than rude grown-ups? Or sloppy drunks? Or people who won’t shut the heck up? Or people who clip their toenails in mid-flight? Or armrest hogs?

It concerns me that people think not. And it has me thinking about ways to change public perception.

One obvious solution is to call for parents to stop failing as parents when they board a plane. Another solution: To get fellow passengers to be more understanding with those of us who travel with our kids. Perhaps some sort of public awareness program could help; material about “practicing patience,” or something like that. (Seriously, y’all, who’s with me here?)

Of course I think the biggest change can come from the airlines themselves.

If these companies actually would enact policies that benefit family travelers instead of policies that alienate us, maybe thinking would change. If airlines would add perks for family travelers instead of taking perks away (man, I miss pre-boarding), maybe people would realize we are just like they.

At the end of the day, observing proper etiquette comes down to obeying a simple code of behavior. The best place to change perception in relation to this behavior is at the top.

4 Family-Friendly Aspects of Life in London

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R, at a London coffee shop, with some house toys.

R, at a London restaurant, with some house toys.

We’re nearing the end of our time here in London (we leave Dec. 23; I can’t believe it either), and I’ve spent the last few days reflecting on some of the most family-friendly aspects of life here.

Yes, I know the health care is free and higher education is dirt cheap (especially for residents). But I’m not talking about that kind of stuff. I’m talking about the family-friendly aspects of life that make visiting this great city with kids easy. Here, in no particular order, are my faves of the faves.

The playgrounds are awesome.
I’ve chronicled the awesomeness of the playgrounds here before, and I’ll do it again and again (probably until I sell a story about it to a major glossy newsstand magazine). Play areas are well-kept. Play structures are new. Ground surfaces are soft so kids don’t get badly hurt when they fall. And each playground boasts activities we simply don’t see at home: the Diana Princess of Wales Memorial Playground in Hyde Park has a pirate ship kids can play inside, while the one at St. Stephen’s Church Garden has a zipline. Of course my favorite aspect of London playgrounds is that many of them have on-site cafes. This means we moms and dads are never too far from a hot black Americano.

Coffee shops give kids free stuff.
Did somebody say coffee? One of my other favorite things about London is that almost every coffee shop in this fair city treats kids like royalty. So long as the grown-ups in your party buy drinks, the kids in your party receive a free drink of their choice. Most places—Pret a Manger and Caffe Nero among them—offer something called “babyccinos,” essentially warm milk with a splash of cocoa. Other places will go so far as to make the little ones pint-sized decaf cappuccinos. When I’m out and about with L and R, I usually opt for simplicity, and just request child-sized take away cups of cold milk. Whatever you order, these freebies are a nice touch.

Public transit treats parents with kids like rock stars.
The vibe toward families on buses and trains in other cities is simple: You’re on your own. Here, however, whenever I board the bus or the Tube with the girls, people are incredibly accommodating and eager to help. They give up their seats. They help carry the stroller up steps. They actually make eye contact with us, and they smile. Overall, I have found the bus system more child-friendly than the Tube; every bus has a separate area for buggies—a nice amenity, especially on those days when I’m schlepping all over town with both of my kids. (Of course when I’m traveling with only one of the girls, and I’ve left the buggy at home, double decker buses also offer the best attraction in town: Watching the city pass by from the front seats of the top level.)

Restaurants are prepared…and welcoming.
So what if kids aren’t allowed in most pubs after 7 p.m.? Most restaurants in this city are incredibly welcoming toward families with young kids, and just about all of them are prepared with kids’ menus and crayons or colored pencils to keep the little ones happy until their food comes. Heck, one of our favorite places in our neighborhood even has toys for kids to play with. Back in the U.S., I’m notorious for lugging a backpack full of paper and pencils everywhere, just to make sure we’re covered. Here, so many places have it covered that I’ve actually started leaving the art supplies at home. It’s nice to have one less thing to worry about. It’s also nice to know Powerwoman and I can count on enjoying at least a few moments of every restaurant meal in peace.

What sort of family-friendly features do you look for in a travel destination?

A Walk to Remember

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My Big Girl, drinking tea before the hike

My Big Girl, drinking tea before the hike.

My wife and I are avid hikers, and we’ve raised our girls to embrace the outdoors as well. Back in California, no day is complete without a tromp in the woods near our house. Here in London, though experiencing “woods” requires more of an effort, we get the girls out and about to breathe fresh air as much as we can.

This is one of the reasons why all four of us were so excited about spending Thanksgiving in the country (at Four Seasons Hampshire). It’s also why I didn’t bat an eye when L requested a hike after sundown one evening last weekend.

Our goal for the evening journey was simple: Hike well-marked pathways as far as we could in 30 minutes, then turn around, return to the resort and have hot chocolates in the library bar.

To guide the way, L took her ladybug flashlight; I bugged the concierge for a “torch” (that’s what they call flashlights here) of my own.

The walk started quietly; as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, L was focusing intensely on watching her steps.

Once we were startled by a braying horse, however, the mood lightened considerably. We quizzed each other on whether certain twinkles were airplanes or satellites or stars. We reminisced about our favorite parts of the day we spent in nearby Farnham (hers: Watching Christmas carolers; mine: Lunching in a 500-year-old pub). We even shared our favorite stories about the Baby, a.k.a., her little sister.

After 30 minutes—probably 1.5 miles in all—we turned around as planned. With the manor house looming on the horizon, L realized we likely were the only people hiking in the field at that moment, so she shared a perfectly normal (for a 4-year-old) request:

“Dad, it won’t bother anybody else. Can we please listen to Taylor Swift?”

Normally I have a strong No-Artificial-Sounds-in-Nature rule. On this night, however, because we were the only people in the field (and, of course, because she asked so politely), I relented.

L was delighted. She skipped. She twirled. At one point, she screamed along with words I hope she doesn’t understand for a long while (I think the song was, “Dear John”). And about halfway back—I kid you not—we spotted fireworks exploding over the trees on the edge of the property.

In that moment, my daughter described the fireworks as “magical,” “unbelievable,” and “amazing.” We now have been home a week, and she still uses those same words when talking about the hike.

To be honest, I do, too.

Those 60 minutes were the best 60 minutes of my Thanksgiving, and arguably the best 60 minutes I’ve had in a long, long time. These are the moments we as parents live for.

Could we have had the same experience at home? Maybe something pretty close. But being in a faraway, foreign place enriches every aspect of moments like that one, and the richer those moments, the better.