This afternoon, for various reasons, I find myself alone in an RV kitchen. It’s quite lovely. One of my favorite ways to both relax and express creativity is to put on good music (or a show I’ve already seen), open a good drink (Limoncello La Criox, anyone?), and cook alone in the kitchen. It’s even more delicious in a small RV home to be completely alone.

So, while I wait on onions to fully carmelize (because youngest asked for French Onion Beef Sliders…I told him I’d allow it), I’m writing out my thoughts. And if there’s one thing we’re doing on this trip so far, it’s continuing to eat good. Which makes sense as food is our collective love language. Funny enough, the only budget item we’re doing well in is groceries. We’ve only eaten out once a week so far, which is insane for us. Just please don’t ask how our gas budget is going.

I’m finding joy in simple things during our time: watching people walk their dogs on whichever campground we find ourselves, just completely giving in on letting the dog sleep in our bed, seeing our boys find delight in each other as their only friend these days.

Observing our teenager look more and more to his dad’s opinions on stuff like a Fantasy League or workout idea. And watching all three of them sit on the couch, folded out to a bed, and reminisce over old Spiderman movies. Like, Toby McGuire era. And wondering if the couch can handle one more set of broadened shoulders. Or if I can.

Thinking through how to listen to Homer’s Odyssey before the freshman is supposed to read it, and watching Dan begin every lesson with the 6th grader with the standard they’re working on. Seeing the beauty in the sights and enjoying straight-forward campgrounds that provide few sights, but meet our stay-over needs.

And an empty kitchen/living room in which to cook and type out my thoughts. Because one day I’ll want to look back and remember the tiny kitchen, the leaks in the faucet, and how we were each other’s companions for a block of time.

I don’t want to miss any of it.