Permanent travel and the fear of missing out

Permanent Travel and the Fear of Missing Out

On Wednesday afternoon Big Kiddo came home from school and straight into the car where dad was waiting with the motor running, the backpacks in the trunk and enough snacks for the long drive to Kintamani, the town on the edge of the Mt. Batur Volcano. The next morning they got up at 3 am to hike up the mountain and see the sunrise from the edge of the crater. Big Kiddo has always been a great walker, he only needed some extra training to be able to do the two and half uphill hike.

I saw the photos and felt jealous.
Yes, jealous.

Related: Mt. Batur and the Legend of Kebo Iwo

I can do it, I have done it, with kids even. But Small Kiddo isn’t hike ready and our Kelty backpack is still in Phuket.
No, Those are excuses.
When I think about actually going on the hike I just imagine myself freaking out over any little thing. I just wouldn’t relax.
So how did I hike all those times before?
I was always stoned and things didn’t bother me like they do now.

Things are different.

For example, when Big Kiddo arrived at home in the afternoon, his face was covered in dry muddy boogers and his hands were caked in dirt and his nails were black. But boy was he happy!!!
And all I wanted to do was get him in the freaking shower. I had to stop myself from that to listen to his amazing stories while he kept spreading dirty boogers everywhere and I did my best to smile at him genuinely.

Yes, we are a traveling family. But as the years go by things are starting to settle in different patterns. Everyone’s essence is seeping out and making separations. G and I have very different travel rhythms, and traveling the four of us together takes some serious patience and dedication.

Don’t get me wrong, I love to travel but I’m just lazy about it.
G on the other hand, thrives off travel, it’s his ultimate happy thing to do.
It’s hard for me to keep up with his traveling rhythm, and trust me I’ve tried.
Nevertheless him and Big Kiddo have a travel connection that Small Kiddo and I can only dream of.

Related: Every traveler has their own travel style

The Fear of Missing Out

Every time the boys go off to do something together I feel a tang of jealousy, I see their photos and feel like I am totally missing out. When the boys travel, explore, adventure together they are happy and content and never fight or have meltdowns or things like that. When the four of us go out, I get angry that I have to carry Small Kiddo and the backpack with whatever there is to carry, I get tired from walking so much, from the heat, from kiddos touching things they shouldn’t be touching, from laying on the floor, for screaming, for whining, for complaining. I simply start to stress out and things just go downhill.

I have been thinking of writing about traveling with depression and how it makes the actual traveling difficult. Not only for the depressed person but also for the person accompanying them. It’s a double edge sword that I have to deal with; I totally feel like I am missing out on these great adventures but at the same time I would probably complain or whine about something if I was there. G says that I act like nothing is special and that everything is just shruggable and that I always find the negative aspect of any situation and that by doing that I’m tainting the moment and making it unenjoyable.

I can see what he means, from his side. But he can’t see what it’s like for me on the inside. I feel a fear of missing out even if I’m already somewhere amazing or doing something incredible. It is true that I pretty much always find the problems and the annoyances of the moment but that’s because on the inside I am dying to do exactly the opposite.

I have started telling Small Kiddo when she gets sad about not going on the boys’ adventures, that they are having boy time and we are going to have girl time. Thankfully we enjoy being lazy together.