The Family Vacay

Prior to the year I was 12, family vacation meant visiting family. We visited my grandparents across country, we visited my aunt and uncle (before moving to the same city) and we visited my dad (or he visited us). We made day trips to the zoo, amusement park, or beach, and even a few camping outings, but in my mind our first real vacation was to the Grand Canyon.
A number of factors made this trip different than any other: we traveled by motor-home, we stayed in a motel, we were touring a destination, it was a full week trip, and I even missed some school. In 7th grade, I attended a different school than the one my brother and cousin attended and at which my mom taught. The trip was planned around their vacation time, so I was on “independent study.” I was a pretty diligent student, and my mom is a teacher, so missing school was serious business. I got my assignments ahead of time and completed some on the trip and some after we returned.

My aunt and mom with cousins (nearly 2, 5+) and my brother (11).

Traveling by motor-home meant time on the road with 4 kids was not torture for my mom, my aunt, and my uncle. We sat at the table and played games, checked the views from various windows, and could have space to ourselves if we got tired of one another. We were traveling in November, so motels were more inviting than campsites, but the motor-home provided more comfortable time on the road and a place for my nearly 2-year-old cousin to squeeze in a nap during day outings.

That's me in the center (yes, I'm wearing high-tops with socks pulled up over leggings...)

A memory from the trip that still makes us all giggle is my cousin’s habit of "taking attendance". She was learning lots of new words at that age, and as is the case with toddlers, not all of them were intelligible to those outside the family. Names especially were unusual. I don’t know if it was because she was out of her familiar home or if she was simply practicing her new skills, but several times a day she would start calling out names of the family and we’d have to answer (or tell her where that member was). It would go something like this: Mama? Right here. Dada? Over here. Bey? Hi. NahNah? Hello. Bah? Hi. Aye? Right here. Then we’d ask her to tell us her name, which was the funniest part of all – the best way I can spell it is something like Nnnyyihh. It was drawn out and came with a wrinkled nose and squinty eyes. It didn’t resemble her name in the least. To this day we theorize what made her decide to call herself that. Was it the baby talk and funny faces we made at her? Was she not naming herself at all but trying to tell us something different?

November in the Grand Canyon + Sunrise = Mighty chilly (but beautiful)

I remember being excited that we were making a trip to a new destination, that we saw sights and took pictures and toured landmarks. But what I treasure more now is the family part of the family vacay – the destination is secondary.