Since I try to stay transparent in this airbrushed world of Pinterest living, I think I need to bring up the struggle that’s been happening. We are about four months into our full-time RV journey. We have seen some amazing things, had some amazing experiences, done more in a few months than most people do in years. That’s not bragging — it’s just the reality of the lifestyle we’ve chosen.
We were stationed in Charleston, SC to spend our first winter on the road. Really, I should be doing cartwheels over how blessed we are! And I am, in some ways. But in others, it’s hard to see the blessings over how hard everything is. I’m almost positive that every mom that has done this with their family has felt this way, but no one talks about it.
Its the same lamentation that I’ve had since we set out on the road: Laundry, dogs, sharing one car, Parker, online school, missing family and friends, Parker, other kids, missing my “stuff” in storage, cooking without an oven in a small kitchen, and Parker. Did I mention Parker is hard to live with in a motorhome?
The lease on our little house in San Antonio will be up in January. That little house is calling to me like a siren. She sings, “Come! Live beneath my high ceilings! Splash in my two bathrooms! Traipse through my backyard and let the dogs run free! Send your children and monsters to a good, local school and relaxxx!” Or something like that.
This is so tempting. I warned the hubs that as we move toward January, the pull back to San Antonio would get stronger and so far that seems to be the case. It is a blessing and a curse to have options. We went all in on our motorhome — we spent the bulk of our savings on it to avoid debt. It wasn’t done out of necessity, because we have two other homes we could be living in. The hubs could be working anywhere and we could be making a lot more money if he were to leave the VA and work straight travel nursing.
Moving into a motorhome has never been about the money or because we were out of options. If that were the case maybe the siren of stability would be less enticing.
The hubs is willing to look at swapping our Class-A motorhome for a 5th Wheel that would provide more living space. It would be a step down in quality and that sucks. We live pretty hard, and a well-built home/motorhome/tiny house/trailer is important. But so is space. Counter space, separate living space, bathroom space — it is more important than I ever gave it credit.
At the end of the day its undeniable that we are on Heavenly Father’s errand and this is where he wants us to be. He opened doors and we witnessed miracle upon miracle to make this adventure happen. He didn’t put us here to fail. And instead of lamenting all the things that are hard, I can shift my focus to all the blessings that I enjoy. We have good health, we have air to breathe, our bodies allow us to walk and talk (although I think Parker’s ability to talk is overrated).
I started writing this on Thanksgiving, but I stopped in the middle to attend a Thanksgiving feast at a new friend’s house. You can read about the all the anxiety that went into that decision here.
I found myself in a beautiful home with the same kind of inviting spirit that reminded me of the social gatherings we would host in San Antonio. I was surrounded by great people. The hostess even printed coloring pages for the kids, that us moms took some time to sit at a table and color. I sat with five ladies and three of them (including myself) have spent time living on the road full-time. One had done it for two years; another for three years.
As I heard more and more about their experiences, it was confirmed to me that I’m normal! They both said it took six months to get into the swing of things, to find their rhythm. And that those first six months were the hardest! So I came away hopeful that things will get easier. Well, maybe not “easier”, but at least I won’t keep thinking about how much I wish I were living in San Antonio in my little house.
Another thought has come to mind. In the Book of Mormon, the first story is about a man named Lehi, who had a vision that he needed to flee Jerusalem with his family. He took his wife, Sariah, and his four sons on the road. At one point his wife, Sariah, begins to murmur to her husband. I can relate to her missing her home, her things, and her status back in Jerusalem. I can also relate to this family that uprooted their entire life to follow the path that Heavenly Father laid before them. Sariah was strong and had courage, and she was also honest about her frustrations with life on the road. That’s what I’m trying to do, be honest and keep it real.
Take courage, my friends! We’re already four months in, and in just two months we will hit our stride and life will be blissful. Maybe not blissful, but at least where I’m not bewildered with how hard things are, and the intense pull back to San Antonio.
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