Glutton for Punishment, or, No Cure for Itchy Feet

After the disaster that was our trip to Japan, we agreed that the door had shut on our dreams of being a world-traveling family. The gain was not worth the pain. Never again, we swore, would we leave home for destinations requiring a passport. But after a few months, we realized that was a pretty melodramatic response. After all, the last four days of the trip, when no one was sick, had mostly been enjoyable. We began to think that a three week international trip had been too ambitious, but that we could try smaller trips and build up. I remembered how impossible grocery shopping felt when the girls were six months and five years. It was a completely different experience by the time they were one and five and a half. Traveling could be the same way.

So, about a year after Japan, we visited relatives in Arizona. Three of us came down with the stomach flu the week we were scheduled to go. I was still vomiting 12 hours before our flight. Only one of our suitcases arrived with us, our six year old impaled herself on a splinter of wood she broke off her grandmother's antique dining chair and had to go to the emergency room, and the two year old came down with a 103 F fever that lasted until after we got home. It was a three day trip.

That should have taught us our lesson. (Actually, I'm pretty sure it did teach my husband. He's not the one visiting mommy travel blogs.) But here I am only two months later, reading the aforementioned blogs and signing up for fare alerts at AirfareWatchdog and Vayama. I know better, but I guess I'm just a glutton for punishment. I can't stop researching exciting new places to visit and imagining family trips that previous experience indicates just might kill me. Even though my brain knows I'm not supposed to, I just can't seem to resist scratching my Itchy Feet.