I’m a mother of three teenage sons, and the adage “the days are long, but the years are short,” has never felt more poignant.
Long gone are the mornings when my boys would wrap their arms around me and give me slobbery kisses, when warm squishy limbs would curl up with me on the couch for story time, when we’d watch the seasons change on our dawdling walks to school, or when cardboard box forts, matchbox car racing tracks, or Lego pieces would blanket every inch of our floor.
I ruminate on how little time remains for us under one roof as a family — especially as we’ve already reached the single digits for the number of summers we have left before my brood leaves the nest.
It seems like my social algorithms have latched onto this sentiment as well because I keep seeing stories that call attention to the notion that, on average, by the time kids reach 18, they’ve already spent about 90% of their time with their parents. The remaining 10% is spread out over the decades until their parents pass. I wasn’t able to find the origin of this hypothesis, but it rings true for me.
Compared to childhood, where our kids spend the majority of their life at home with their families, once they grow up, move out, and start their own families and eventful lives, only vestiges of time remain for their parents.
My husband and I rarely catch up with our own parents
We see my husband’s family about twice a month, as they live nearby. However, with my family, we only travel once every two or three years to see them, as we live several states away. When my kids were small, we took road trips from Chicago to Montana, a 1,400-mile drive that would take 21 hours.
The point is: we did the best we could to visit my parents, with three small children in tow, yet as the years went by, and our lives got fuller (and more expensive), we saw them less and less.
Now, as a professional travel writer, one of the perks of the job is that I rack up miles and loyalty points, which I can cash in for trips around the globe. We travel often as a family, with all five of us, and these adventures have brought us an incredible amount of joy and connection.
When we’re home, however, my teens scatter and do their own things. From work schedules to afterschool clubs, to hanging out with friends to way too much screen time, sometimes it feels like I scarcely see my dear ones. But, when we’re away somewhere, anywhere, they’re all mine.
Wendy Altschuler
A one-on-one vacation with my middle child
In June, I took my middle son to Greece on an adventure for just the two of us. While I do my best to carve out alone time with each of my children when we’re home — my youngest son and I play chess, my middle goes running with me, and my oldest and I will walk the hounds — sometimes routines and obligations simply get in the way, and it’s difficult to find meaningful time to connect without the distractions of other siblings and the hubbub of our household.
Pulling one puppy out of the feral pack and taking him on a big adventure allows us to bond while the other two pups strengthen their relationships at home and with their dad. Traveling with one kid at a time allows me to see him just as he is, to share and learn without any intrusions. I do this with each of my sons, but this time, it was my middle son’s turn.
Our trip began in Rafina, a port city near Athens. We romped around on the pebbly beach, visited the Agios Nikolas Chapel, appreciated a lovely dinner, and then went on a weeklong walking journey through Paros, Naxos, and Santorini islands.
We adored hiking along the volcanic caldera in Santorini from Fira to Oia, a six-mile cliff trail full of volcanic soil, pumice, and lava. The views of the glittery Aegean Sea in contrast to the rugged rust-hued terrain, white-washed architecture, and blue-domed churches were a highlight for me.
Wendy Altschuler
My brown-haired, beryl-eyed son loved walking from our small, family-owned and operated lodging down to the Fira Port, being careful not to get squished by the dozens of hardworking mules following the same path.
We played “slap jack” cards and made little sketches of each other as we waited for our dinner. We wandered the snaking cobblestone paths in the tiny villages so my son could find the perfect yellow necklace for his girlfriend.
On our evening walks, we marveled at the sunset in silence. Every time our walking guide would utter, “never, never” when describing Greek customs, we giggled — now, it’s something we say to each other as our own inside yarn.
These trips have taught me who my sons are
I’m grateful that I’ve built a career that allows me to travel with each of my sons. I’ve gotten to know them as unique individuals apart from their siblings.
What I’ve learned through the years of doing this with my boys, however, is that it’s essential to view everyday occurrences not as chores or inconveniences, but as opportunities to click. Trips to the grocery store or jogs around the neighborhood with my middle can be just as meaningful and impactful as our lengthier romps abroad, and arguably more sustainable for our relationship as it grows.
While I loved mugging for photos in Greece with my clever and intrepid guy, carving out time while at home will continue to be a priority for me, even when he becomes autonomous and flies the coop.
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