If you’re planning to travel this summer, are you taking a trip or a vacation?

One isn’t necessarily better than the other, but it’s worth making the distinction.

A trip is a type of travel with an agenda. There are scheduled events to plan for. Places to be or people to see. Lots of moving around. Trips can be exciting and fun and fulfilling, but they don’t usually leave you feeling rested. If you’ve ever returned from someplace and said, “I need another vacation to recover from my vacation,” you weren’t on a vacation. You were on a trip.

A vacation is much less regimented. Aside from a few planned activities, your agenda is more wide open. It’s more relaxed. There is nowhere you have to be. This type of travel doesn’t usually have an abundance of photos or adventure stories to share and often feels like you did a whole lot of nothing, but you return home refreshed.

Our family went to Yellowstone National Park for a week. We did a lot of driving, stopping, looking, and hiking. There wasn’t a whole lot of time just “being.” We saw things we’d never seen before and came back tired, with a hard drive filled with photos and heads overflowing with stories. It was great. But it was definitely a trip. A visit to Disney World or a pilgrimage to Rome is also a trip.

Later that year, we went to Hawaii. I had a speaking engagement in Honolulu and we spent a few days there (a trip), before hopping over to Kauai for a week (a vacation.) We gave ourselves permission to not do and see everything the island had to offer, opting instead for long stretches of beach time. There was less movement, lots of sleeping in, fewer “have to’s,” and not nearly as many photos. But we filled our cups and came back rejuvenated.

[ An aside: some may presume or argue that travel with kids is always a trip, not a vacation. I find this generally true, but I recall a few treks to Florida when the kids were very young, when the bulk of our time was spent on the beach, playing in the sand and tricking the waves. Kim and I left work at home, relaxed our expectations, focused on enjoying the little ones, and sipped tropical drinks when they went to bed. It was quite restorative. On the other hand, the subsequent cross-country road trip to the Grand Canyon a few years later was fun, but undoubtedly a trip. ]

Of course, it’s possible to take a vacation in Yellowstone or turn Hawaii into a trip. And everybody has varied personal preferences when it comes to how we recharge our batteries.

The point is, there’s a definite distinction between a trip and a vacation.

The problem is when you take one but expect (or need) the other.

Before I realized the distinction, I found it tempting to resent a trip I went on because it didn’t turn out to be a vacation. Which totally discounted all the cool things I experienced. Likewise, finding yourself disappointed with a vacation because it didn’t have the adventure of a trip can also be frustrating.

So if you’re in the process of making some travel plans this summer, be mindful of whether you need a trip or a vacation.

And if something is already on the calendar, determine whether it’s a trip or a vacation in advance to set proper expectations, minimize Adultitis, and make the most of the opportunity in front of you.

Happy travels!

You’re invited!

On Saturday, June 22nd at 10:00 am CDT, come join us at our kitchen table for a virtual cup of coffee and a casual conversation. We’ll be speaking from experience as we share 5 ways to keep from ruining your next vacation, but we also want to hear from you! What have you learned while traveling, and how do keep Adultitis from coming along for the ride?

You’ll be able to chat with fellow members and have the chance to ask us questions live. Hope to see you there!

👉 Register Here

P.S. If you can’t attend the event live, but still have a question, feel free to leave it in the comments below and we will try our best to answer it. The event will be recorded so you can watch it later at this link!

I never realized how valuable a simple bag of fish heads could be.

As I mentioned last week, our family had the opportunity to spend two weeks in the Pacific Northwest, where we explored Seattle, the Olympic Peninsula, and a little taste of Canada (eh?)

We did a lot of fun things, some of which cost money, of course. A surprising gem in Victoria, British Columbia, was Miniature World. (I have always been a sucker for tiny dioramas and hand-crafted doll houses.)

One of the bigger splurges was $135 to experience a 30-minute horse drawn carriage ride. It was totally fine. We had a great guide, we enjoyed seeing and learning about Victoria’s historic Heritage Houses, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t give a shout out to our sturdy and amiable steed, Matthew.

Meanwhile, it cost exactly $3 to buy a bag of frozen fish heads – herring to be exact. They weren’t as appetizing at the Beavertails we scarfed down earlier in the day, but that’s ok, because we didn’t eat them. We just threw them into the water.

And it was the best three bucks I’ve spent in some time.

They went to feed some wild harbor seals at Oak Bay Marina, and it was one of the most delight-filled moments of our time in Victoria. One of the seals was quite the showman, standing out from his peers by swimming on his back and slapping his belly repeatedly. (His polish as a performer told me he was most likely the least in need of the afternoon snack.)

It was great. And all for just three bucks! Canadian, no less, which was like $2.31 in U.S. currency.

All this to say that summer is here, and with it comes summer vacations. It’s easy to err on spending big bucks to ensure the stockpiling of unforgettable memories for our Life Portfolio. Disney World is great. And so are horse-drawn carriage rides.

But don’t discount a three dollar bag of fish heads.

Collecting memories rarely costs as much as we think it does.

Starting at younger and younger ages, kids are expected to begin thinking about what they want to do with their lives. I feel bad for them, because between increasing homework loads and more demanding extra-curricular commitments, they are given less and less free to time to figure out who they are, and what lights them up.

No matter how old you are, a little space to roam can make a big difference.

After three grueling years producing his show Sam and Friends, Jim Henson was burned out and ready to give up on puppetry. Then he left for a yearlong walkabout in Europe. He took in puppet performances throughout the continent, impressed by how appreciated the art form was outside the United States. “Until then, I hadn’t taken puppetry all that seriously,” Henson said. “It just didn’t seem to be the sort of thing a grown man works at for a living.” But Henson returned from Europe energized and inspired, and would eventually create The Muppet Show and Sesame Street.

I like the idea of a gap year, which is typically a period of time taken between high school and college in order to deepen practical, professional, and personal awareness. I’ve also heard of people taking them mid-career, or married couples who take them when they become empty nesters, in order to re-establish their relationship as it enters a new phase.

Every once in a while, we all need a bit of time and space to wander, wonder, and think about what’s next.

I love this definition of roam: To go to different places without having a particular purpose or plan.

Here’s another good one: To move about or travel aimlessly or unsystematically, especially over a wide area.

The next step in our life journey is not always evident. Perhaps you are in a season that calls for some aimless travel, even if it’s just spending few days outside of your normal routine.

Sometimes we need to break free from the day-to-day.

Sometimes we have to roam a bit to find ourselves.

Ever have one of those vacations that, when it was over, you said, “I need another vacation!”?

Sometimes we spend all our time lounging around and feel disappointed that we didn’t see more. But more often, we rush around trying to see and do everything, and wind up returning to work depleted, wishing for a re-do.

You’ve taken time off work. You’ve probably invested no small amount of money. Don’t be the reason your vacation fails. It almost just happened to us.

Last summer, we got passports for all the kids so we could take a road trip into Canada. Kim and I asked our favorite question, “Now that we have this (passports for the whole family), what does it make possible?” We thought a foray into Mexico was a great next step to stretch our family’s travel comfort zone, before moving on to other places on our bucket list, like London, Australia, and South Africa.

The way I see it, vacations can fall anywhere on a spectrum with “Adventure” one end and “Relaxation” on the other. A trip to Disney World, or a cross-country road trip would be on the “Adventure” side, while laying on a beach or lake fishing for a week would be an example of the “Relaxation” side.

The key to making sure you don’t come out of your vacation disappointed is being mindful of what you want your vacation to be.

It sounds obvious, but it’s not always easy.

Our two-week road trip last summer included stops in Cleveland, Niagara Falls, Boston, Montreal, Ottawa, and Toronto. It was an “Adventure” trip for us. We didn’t run ourselves ragged, but we knew going in that it was more about seeing a lot of new places than it was about chilling out. Earlier in the year, we rented a condo near Clearwater, Florida. That was our “Relaxation” trip. Lots of sun, sand, and doing a whole lotta nothing. Both were great, because we were mindful of our intentions for each trip.

Mexico presented a problem, because we hadn’t been as mindful going into it. Here we were in a new place, surrounded by so many new sights to see and attractions to visit. We knew we wanted to stretch our comfort zone and experience the culture. We felt obligated to see and do as much as we could, knowing this might be our only chance to see this part of the world. Meanwhile, our condo was on the beach, literally steps from the Caribbean Sea. We had just come off an especially busy year, recovering from a virus that put our whole family down for three weeks over the holidays. Our souls needed to be pampered with the aforementioned “whole lotta doing nothing.”

Fortunately, our first night after settling in to the condo and putting the kids to bed, Kim and I had a conversation on the balcony about what kind of vacation this needed to be. Ultimately, we decided it should fall a few notches to the left of the “Relaxation” side.

Here are a few tips to help you avoid turning your next vacation into a hot pile of bad:

1) Remember that it’s impossible to do it all.
One of Adultitis’ best tricks for ruining a good vacation is convincing you that you can actually do and see everything. This futile pursuit is a sure ticket to burnout. We decided to be ok with picking out a limited number of attractions we wanted to hit, knowing that we’d be missing out on a lot.

2) Give yourself permission to call an audible.
Once you’re on the ground and reality looks a little different than what you envisioned, it’s ok to change things up, because now you have new information. We didn’t realize just how incredibly close our condo would be to the ocean. It was like a dream! With such an amazing location, we realized how silly it would be to spend most of our time leaving it to do something else.

3) Listen to your soul.
As I mentioned, we had a bit of a rough landing at the end of 2017, and really just needed some time to recharge. The thought of spending most days shuttling from tourist attraction to tourist attraction made our souls throw up in their mouths a little. So we honored that and were rewarded with full hearts and peaceful spirits.

4) Examine the “rules that don’t exist” you’ve written in your own head and challenge them.
In our case, “Thou shalt not eat at the same restaurant more than once, and definitely not more than twice” went down in flames. There was a cool beachfront cafe a short walk from our condo that had amazing views, great food, and frosty tropical drinks. You could literally have your feet in the sand as you dined. As it was the type of place we would have wished we could find somewhere on vacation, we decided it was dumb to not frequent it regularly simply because of some stupid #notarule. So we ate there nine times.

In the end, we enjoyed one of our best vacations ever. I’m so glad Kim and I had that conversation on the balcony, or we might have ruined our trip.

Keep in mind, had we not gotten sick, or our year had gone a little differently, or we had stayed at a different condo a mile away, or if our kids were a little older or younger, the trip would have been completely different. And that could have been a perfect trip too, as long as we were mindful about what kind of vacation we needed.

Just like in the rest of our life, the magic is in the mindfulness. Don’t throw away your chance at a perfect vacation doing the things you feel like you “should” do. Having lots of choices is good. But not if they make you feel like you have to say yes to all of them.

The only thing you should do is spend some time thinking about what would make it perfect for YOU.

I was talking to a woman after one of my speaking engagements and she told me about an unusual bug her car possessed.

She explained that sometimes, while she was driving with her kids in tow, her car would suddenly take on a life of its own. There was nothing she could do to control the direction it was headed. No matter how hard she jerked the steering wheel left, if the vehicle wanted to turn right, it went right, with the kids erupting into a frenzy of excited, anxious squeals. The woman explained that there didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason for the erratic behavior. Sometimes it would happen after school, other times after a long day of chores.

The most interesting part of the story is where the car ended up. Without exception, the destination was always an ice cream shop. At that point, the beleaguered mom admitted that it only seemed right to order a few cones.

After doing a little bit of research, I’ve discovered that this isn’t a flaw in this woman’s vehicle, but a feature. And — surprise! — it turns out that it comes standard in every single car, truck, van and SUV. Including mine.

And yours.

Sometimes days go south and life is such that it calls for an audible, a deviation from the current script.

I’m not saying ice cream is the answer for everything, but it does have some pretty magical powers to turn a day around. But this post really isn’t about ice cream.

The point is that sometimes a day filled with left turns needs a perfectly timed right one.

Good thing we have the technology at our disposal to help us out with that.

My friend Dave (a recent Adultitis Fighter of the Month) has Mondays off. They started becoming a little stale, so he decided to shake things up. Although he’s an avid traveler, Dave realized that he actually explored very little of his home state of Wisconsin. One day, he pulled out a map, landed on a city named Amherst and set out to make a day of exploring this unfamiliar town. Next week, he went to a city that started with the letter “B” (Babcock), followed by Columbus, and has continued his quest through the alphabet. (He’s currently on “H”.) Most of the towns are quite small, but they all have something interesting about them, whether it’s an old covered bridge, an obscure museum, or a unique little park where he and his dog Lily can hang out. And not surprisingly, these adventures turn out to be pretty economical.

As we settle into the summer here in the northern hemisphere, I thought this was a neat idea worth sharing. It’s proof that you don’t need to jet off to faraway lands to have great adventures. Heck, you don’t even need to travel to live more adventurously. You could add a twist by using the alphabet to instigate an adventure by visiting 26 new restaurants, listening to 26 new bands, or reading 26 new authors, each starting with a different letter of the alphabet.

Ruts are the moldy places where Adultitis likes to fester. Most of us get trapped in one from time to time. But you don’t have to scale mountains or jump out of planes to live an adventurous life. Turning everyday into an adventure is actually quite simple.

Just start with your ABCs.

Our family just completed a 17-day road trip that spanned 11 states and 3,800 miles. We traveled with three kids, aged 7, 5, and 2. And we did it in a Ford Edge that was packed with just two suitcases, one cooler, a diaper bag, two computer backpacks, two strollers, one tote filled with food and another filled with swimming paraphernalia and sunscreen.

We did this because we are insane.

Actually, that’s just a lie I repeated multiple times so people wouldn’t feel bad. It makes it easier for folks to justify why they could never do such a thing, especially if a deep-down part of them yearns to do something similar. If I emphasize how hard it is, it keeps them from feeling jealous of how much fun we had.

There were so many highlights: We swooned over a baby gorilla, sampled the best of Kansas City barbecue, ascended 10,300 feet via the Sandia Peak Tramway, cooled off at Slide Rock State Park in Sedona, stood breathless at the Grand Canyon, marveled at the majesty of Arches National Park, drove through the Rocky Mountains, and swam in many, many hotel pools. Even better than those highlights might have been the memories that don’t usually make for good postcards: trying new foods (rattlesnake!) for the first time, eating pizza in bed while watching America Ninja Warrior, and watching your kids get better at working together to solve problems.

The real reason we did it is because we crave adventure and memory-making. The best way we’ve found for doing those things is through travel, both to new destinations and past the boundaries of our comfort zone.

And yes, truth be told, it is hard. We had to endure high temperatures, long drives through barren lands, arguments over backseat boundary issues, and occasional tantrums from an overtired two-year-old.

Not every moment was magical, but the magical moments still existed.

Everyone wants six-pack abs. Unfortunately, it’s not a one-day endeavor. It’s a package deal. You can’t get the magical moments without all the rest of it. Too many people give up on getting those moments and settle.

You can make amazing memories with your family. You can create a marriage that gets better with age. You can build a business that changes everything.

You just have to be a little crazy, that’s all.

When I was in high school I became aware that a career in art might require me to move to a big city. The prospect of travel frightened me. At that point, I had never been on a plane, and had only visited a few neighboring states. I wondered, How would I find my way? How would I navigate an airport? How would I stay safe?

Looking back, from a well-established speaking career that has required a lot of travel, I can only smile at what was mostly fear of the unknown.

Because now I’m really good at it. I know how to pack smart and light. I’m savvy about what lines to avoid. I’ve learned things that eliminate a lot of the stress and hassle. Of course, I didn’t suddenly wake up one day magically having been transformed into a travel ninja overnight. It took a lot of practice, or as I like to say, tinkering.

The same holds true for traveling with kids. When most parents think of going long distances in confined spaces with their offspring, they only see the horrors that await them. The nightmares overshadow any dreams of the memories itching to be made.

Make no mistake: There WILL be times when you seriously question your sanity and yearn for the sweet release of a bus barreling into you at top speed.

Sometimes the baby blows out her diaper in the car seat on your way to dinner and you have no choice but to head back to your hotel to clean it out with a spatula. (True story.)

Sometimes you get stuck on the runway for an hour with nothing to entertain your overtired toddler but a cup of water and a straw. (Also true.)

But here’s a little secret: when you look backward at an experience, the bad moments fade away while the good memories grow in stature. You feel a great deal of pride at having overcome the negative episodes and they become part of the adventure.

We recently returned to Florida (and the exact location of the aforementioned blowout). It took us three days of reminiscing our past trip before we even remembered the spatula incident. And when we did, we laughed about it.

So yeah, sometimes traveling with kids is hard.

But just because something’s hard doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it. Anything worthwhile is hard in the beginning. What’s required are baby steps, gained through practice and tinkering.

Last summer we did a 4,000 mile road trip with the kids to promote my book. People thought we were a tad crazy. But it wasn’t our first rodeo. Lucy was on 34 flights her first year of life. I’ve taken her on several daddy daughter business trips. Now, when we go on a trip with the whole crew, she’s almost like a third adult. And she’s only seven. She’s well-practiced.

Someday soon, we want to travel to Australia and Europe and Africa with the kids. And that doesn’t just happen. We are practicing now so that they’ll be even better at traveling later.

Some parents seem to think there is a time when their kids magically become great travelers. When I was a teenager eyeing my future, I assumed that because I wasn’t a savvy traveler, I’d never become one.

I love traveling. My teenage self would have thought that impossible. But now I greatly resonate with the quote, often attributed to St. Augustine: “The world is a book, and those who don’t travel only read one page.”

Whether the topic is traveling alone, with kids, or to any wonderful new horizon in your life, my advice is the same: If want to go to some amazing places, start tinkering.

I’ve recently been lamenting the fact that our TV’s remote control is on the fritz. It’s not a battery issue, it’s just the power button that seems to be on strike. I’ve pegged my youngest daughter (the two-year-old) as the prime suspect for its early demise. Although I have no hard evidence, she is often seen secretly holding the remote, and the power button just so happens to be the only red button in a sea of black ones. I’m just saying.

Regardless of the culprit, my frustration joins the chorus of a gazillion other parents who have crooned, “This is why we can’t have nice things…”

On a seemingly unrelated note, one of the stops we made as a family during our recent #Notarule Tour swing west was to De Smet, South Dakota. It’s the location of one of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s homesteads, and has a lot of interactive things to do. Lucy read all the books with her Godmom Jenna, and we have been watching the television series together as a family. (They just don’t make shows like that anymore, folks. Plus, Michael Landon is a real national treasure!)

We were able to reserve one of the four covered wagons available to sleep in overnight, so that was the highlight. It was also the worst night of sleep I think I’ve ever had. It’s remarkable to think that our set-up – we actually had electricity, so it wasn’t exactly “roughing it” – would have been a dream to those early settlers.

Other discoveries were equally eye-opening. Covered wagons had wooden wheels; no shocks, struts, or satellite radio, and it took them all day to go 15 miles. At one point, Laura and her family lived in a dugout, which was basically a dirt home carved out of a hillside with one window and a single stove in the center. Of course, there were no supermarkets around, so they had to provide their own food, and make their own soap. One long winter, all they had to eat was plain old wheat bread. Which had to be baked day after day, after grinding the flour by hand, and eaten without any butter.

My kids got to try their hand at washing and drying clothes, like they did in the days before spin cycles and permanent press.

And they made corncob dolls just like the one Laura had. Honestly, I thought calling it a doll was a bit of a stretch. No face, no limbs, and certainly no karate-chop action.

It was a tremendous experience for all of us. (You can see pictures on our homeschooling scrapbook.) I came away awed by the ingenuity of these pioneers amidst such humble circumstances, and grateful for the multitude of things I take for granted in my own life.

It’s amazing how a change in perspective really can change everything.

Which is to say, I’m no longer all that concerned with the malfunctioning power button on my remote control.

I was sitting on the beach reading, and I looked up from my book to a most wonderful sight. It was of my daughter Lucy, clutching a boogie board, being escorted to the shore by a strong wave of saltwater. The entire ride lasted barely five yards, but the transformation in her was light years from a few hours earlier. The initial introduction to this unfamiliar ocean vessel was marked with trepidation and more than a few tears.

Her triumphant, tooth-deprived grin was one of my favorite moments from our recent 11-day, 7-state, 2,300 mile road trip with three kids under seven. (The second epic leg of the #Notarule Tour is coming in September.)

Another special moment was seeing the pride and joy in Ben’s blue eyes as he began to master his “muscles,” the green camouflaged floatation vest that enabled him to independently venture beyond the pool’s steps. Like Lucy, he wasn’t sure about this new thing, but once he got the hang of it, there was no stopping him.

For both of them, like many things in life, the hard part was finding the courage to go for it.

Frankly, my favorite part of the trip might just be the fact that we did it. (Although the soul food at Mrs. B’s in Montgomery was right up there.) We planned our trip thoughtfully, and I hoped for the best, but it turned out even better than I imagined.

It certainly wasn’t easy. We posted the highlights on Facebook and Instagram, because most people don’t stop to capture the bad times. Besides, I doubt anyone wants to see an hour-long video of an exhausted 20-month-old too stubborn to sleep. Trust me, I was there for the live performance.

Twice.

But we did it. We made it to the other side closer as a family and with neat new memories we wouldn’t have otherwise had.

The whole thing started with me getting an invitation to speak for an association of Medical Group Managers in Destin, Florida, a place I’d never been. People who heard about it said, “Oh you should really take the family.” One thing led to another, and it turned into this 11-day road trip that was part business trip, part book tour, part family vacation, part crazy.

It was harder to pull off than me just flying down alone. It would have been easier to wait till Ginny was older and more “travel ready.” But who among us is guaranteed tomorrow?

The minute we saw the emerald Gulf waters from our hotel room in Destin, I was so glad we did it. Had I went the easy way and traveled solo, I know I would have spent the whole time wishing I’d have figured out a way to bring the family.

My goal with this post is not to convince you to travel with kids, spend time in Florida, or wear camoflauged life vests. (Although I recommend all three.)

It’s about being aware of those opportunities to dance with adventure that quietly float into our lives, and the practice of not dismissing them simply because they are hard.

Most of the time, the reason we didn’t do the things we wish we would have is because they were too hard.

Too scary. Too risky. Too uncomfortable. Too uncertain. Too…something.

And yet the hardness is what makes the end result so worthwhile.

Mark Twain was right: “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do.”

Playing it safe, doing what you’ve always done, and sitting on the couch binge-watching MacGyver is easy.

Living a great story is hard.

But don’t let Adultitis fool you into thinking it’s not worth it.

The #Notarule Tour is well underway. We have already visited a bookstore, a zoo, an old bank, and the home of some Escape Adulthood Summit alumni. But now the certifiably insane part is upon us.

We are embarking on a 10-day road trip in a Ford Edge with three kids under seven. And then we’re doing it again a month later.

Most parents might think we’re batsh#t crazy. Sometimes I do, too.

Because it is a little bit crazy. And it might not work.

But that’s exactly why it’s worth doing.

I loved the message I once saw printed on a sign at a store that said, “Ever notice that what the hell is always the right decision?”

When Kim and I first considered the idea, one of the biggest causes for pause was cash. We’re not getting any money from the publisher, and this won’t be cheap. So we’re trying to be smart. We’re using rewards points for some of our hotel stays. We’ll only be staying in places with a complimentary breakfast. We bought a cooler to transport food for lunches. And we plan on leaving the kids in Florida so Kim and I can take the return trip alone. (Kidding.)

We’ve also spent a lot of time thinking of ways to save our sanity. One way is to schedule lots of breaks and limit our time spent driving. The first day is the longest, but most days have less than four hours of total drive time. We are not trying to see and do every little thing along the way. We are not putting a lot of pressure on ourselves to get “work” done. Yes, we want to promote the book, but we mostly want some quality time together as a family. We see this as a rich extension of our homeschooling life and a chance to make some fun memories we’ll never forget.

So here’s the deal. Maybe you don’t have a new book out. Maybe you aren’t planning a national book tour. Maybe you don’t even have kids.

But maybe there is a crazy idea you’ve been toying around with that summons up equal parts excitement and terror. Maybe it doesn’t make a lot of sense. And maybe there are a thousand reasons why it wouldn’t work.

What if you spent some time thinking about ways it could maybe sorta possibly work?

And then what if you said, “What the hell!”

After a speaking program a few months ago, a woman who was in the audience stopped me in the parking lot. She told me that she’d just been through the worst year ever. After fighting and beating cancer herself, she was now supporting her husband in his own fight, and the prognosis was not good. Meanwhile, her son just had both of his feet amputated due to complications with diabetes. She kindly affirmed that my message was on target, and lamented about how good we humans are at taking things for granted. Then, with a piercing stare from her steel blue eyes, she reminded me, “You don’t ever get to go back.”

That was the exact second I made up my mind: We are doing this road trip.

What the hell.

When you have a map to anywhere and GPS in your pocket, it’s really hard to get lost. I think that’s too bad, because sometimes getting lost can lead to great adventures.

Someone shared the idea of a “Penny Date” with me, and I wanted to pass it along.

The first rule is to get dressed to out and grab a penny. Get in the car and let your partner choose a number between 10 and 20. This will be the number of times you flip the penny. Pull out of the driveway and begin your adventure. Heads is right, Tails is left. Every time you come to an intersection, flip the penny and turn the corresponding direction. Once you get to the number your partner picked at the beginning, stop. Look around. Make a date where you are.

Pretty neat idea, isn’t it? Of course, this could be easily adapted for different scenarios. I regularly go on date nights with my daughter Lucy, and this would work just as well with her. Not to mention outings with the whole family or a couple of friends.

You don’t need a map. Or even a lot of money. You only need a spirit of adventure and a little creativity to have fun wherever you find yourself, just like when you were a kid.

Adultitis be gone!

The white dog bounded down the skinny green runway, chasing a stuffed animal attached to a steel cable. In just ten seconds, the race was over, and Yeti had her prize. Meanwhile, her best friend was looking on. After the steel cable was reset, this time with a small stuffed zebra, a trainer readied herself in front of the big box where Shiley stood poised. The trainer raised her hand while unlatching the door on the cage, and then dropped her arm to indicate it was time for the wench operator at the other end of the track to get that zebra moving. The door flung open, and a flash of fur and speed exploded from the box. Shiley, a South African cheetah, pursued his prey with abandon. The big cat traversed the 330-foot track in just three seconds. It spent half of that time with all four feet off the ground.

This is what we had come to see, the world’s fastest land animal doing what it does best. If you blinked, you’d probably miss it. But we were too excited to even breathe, let alone blink. It was one of the highlights of the four days I spent in San Diego last week with my daughter Lucy. I had a speaking engagement at the front end, so it was our first Daddy Daughter business trip.

It was a trip we will both remember for the rest of our lives, and I hope it’s just the first of many. Here are a few thoughts from my experience.

Spend Money on Experiences Over Stuff. Always.

I had a friend in high school who hated going out to eat. He preferred spending money on things like fancy baseball hats or the latest rap CDs. (This was the late 90s.) His rationalization was that the meal was too quickly over and done with, while at least with a hat or CD, he had something to show for it long term. Makes sense intuitively, but it turns out that it’s not the route to happiness. A recent article in The Atlantic underscores that a decade of psychology research has confirmed that experiences bring us more happiness than do possessions. Author James Hamblin writes:

Most of us have a pretty intense capacity for tolerance, or hedonic adaptation, where we stop appreciating things to which we’re constantly exposed. iPhones, clothes, couches, et cetera, just become background. They deteriorate or become obsolete. It’s the fleetingness of experiential purchases that endears us to them. Either they’re not around long enough to become imperfect, or they are imperfect, but our memories and stories of them get sweet with time. Even a bad experience becomes a good story.

It’s true, isn’t it? As exciting as it is to buy a new gadget, car, or even a home, it doesn’t take long for it to become old hat, keeping us on the never-ending treadmill chasing the next big thing. Meanwhile, with our experiences, the biggest disasters often turn into the best stories. Before feeding a rhino at the San Diego Zoo, the trainer told us to remove any loose rings or jewelry on our hands. She assured us that we’d eventually get any lost items back, but we’d have to wait three days, if you know what I mean. I’m not sure I’d want a rhinoceros to swallow my wedding ring, but it sure would make for a pretty good story when I got it back.

It’s Not About Money, it’s About Intention.

Granted, we really splurged on a few things for this trip. Frankly, none if it would have happened were it not for the speaking engagement, which subsidized part of the travel. The big highlights were the cheetah run, a backstage experience at the San Diego Zoo (which also involved a cheetah!), and having lunch with Shamu at Sea World. But we had just as much fun swimming at the hotel pool, eating pepperoni pizza in bed, and playing in the waves at Pacific Beach. Some of my fondest memories from childhood were of the modest three-day road trips my family took just a few hours away from our home.

That being said, if you’re going to break the bank for something, an experience will give you more bang for your buck.

Anticipation Is Where The Magic Is.

The Atlantic article talks about how the mere act of waiting for an experience elicits more happiness that waiting for a material good. It compares the giddy anticipation of a delicious meal at a nice restaurant versus the impatience that comes with waiting for your pre-ordered iPhone to arrive.

I can certainly relate to that. This trip has been months in the making, and every day leading up to it was tantalizingly delightful for both of us. Anticipation is the electricity of childhood. Waiting for this trip reminded me of waiting to see what goodies Santa left under our tree on Christmas morning.

Kim and I kept the cheetah experiences a secret for a long time because we know that when you’re dealing with animals, there are no guarantees. But as soon as I knew it was safe, I let Lucy in on the surprise, because I knew that anticipation is an important part of the overall experience.

Here’s Hamblin again:

“Savoring future consumption for days, weeks, years only makes the experience more valuable. It definitely trumps impulse buying, where that anticipation is completely squandered. (Never impulse-buy anything ever.)”

Want a Memory? Make a List.

Most people take photos of their vacations. (Sometimes it’s to the detriment of actually experiencing the thing we’re trying to capture. I will admit that I missed out on a few things because I was too busy futzing with the F-stop.) Photos are great, but another thing I highly recommend is making a memory list. It’s not a journal, it’s a a short list of details you jot down shortly after your experience. Here are a few examples from the course of our trip:

• Lucy got to pick the rental car: red!
• She signed about a half dozen autographs at the end of my presentation.
• Went to Pacific Beach. Enjoyed watching surfers from the pier. Stumbled upon a Bears bar and watched the last few minutes of a win over Atlanta. Sang “Bear Down” with the crowd.
• Had Lucy take a quick shower to wash the sand out. She was cashed out in the bed 10 minutes later.
• Lucy got a stuffed cheetah and named it “Minny” because it reminds her of skinny, which cheetahs are.
• Night cap included swimming, a dip in the hot tub, some wrestling, and a chapter in BFG.

Memory lists are an excellent way to record the things that might not have been captured on camera. (It’s not like I was taking selfies of us wrestling.) And it’s always amazing how years later, even a simple sentence fragment can introduce a flood of specific memories that might have otherwise been lost.

Traveling with Kids is a Drag.

Literally. Kids have a tendency to slow you down when you travel, which is a big reason why many people don’t enjoy it.

As if it’s a problem.

Yep. Lucy definitely slowed us down. It took longer to do almost everything. But instead of nagging her to keep up all the time, I slowed down to her pace. And I noticed things I might not have otherwise noticed. Like a flamingo feather I found on the ground that I swear was more valuable to her than any souvenir we bought. The only reason I noticed it was because she collected about three thousand bird feathers on the trip.

Too often, in our rush to the next thing, we miss out on the treasure right in front of us. Slowing down is almost always a good thing.

I plan to keep using my time, energy, and money to create as many memories with my kids as possible. They’re growing up faster than a speeding cheetah.

The last thing I want to do is rush things along, let alone blink.

What’s the best experience you’ve ever spent money on, even if you were a little nervous about the expense at the time?

Willy Wonka’s glass elevator was an Adultitis Antidote. How many elevators can you say that about?

With all due respect to Aerosmith, elevators are not usually bastions of fun. They are awkward little boxes in which everyone stares blankly at the floor numbers, tightens the sphincter, and puts on their best grown-up face while staring straight ahead. It’s the equivalent of entering a walk-in closet with random strangers and closing the door.

But taking a page out of Mr. Wonka’s book is not that hard.

My friend Dan plays a game called Elevator Fight Club with his kids. When they are in an elevator together, after the doors close, they begin a fake boxing match with each other. The action stops as soon as the doors re-open. Dan has reported that it’s not uncommon for the fight to resume quietly even when someone else is with them. And of course, the first rule of Elevator Fight Club is that you do not talk about Elevator Fight Club, so I’ve already said too much.

Innocent, a UK-based maker of fruit juices and smoothies, installed a Twister game in their elevator. How awesome is that? I suspect it is nearly impossible to walk into that elevator and not smile. Which is actually the genius of it. Full-blown human knots don’t have to result for an idea like this to reap benefits. Even if no one actually plays the game, just the fact that it’s there makes the company more buzz worthy, and a more fun place to work.

Some people report that they sometimes face the back of the elevator while everyone else is facing forward. I’ll admit that I’m not brave enough to try that, but I’m sure it makes Adultitis very uncomfortable.

Adultitis dominates certain locations in this world, and there is no doubt the elevator is one of them. If you ask me, it’s a perfect place for a full-on assault against this vile enemy.

What are YOUR favorite ways to have fun in an elevator?

Imagine placing an order at a drive-thru restaurant. (And yes, you definitely want fries with that.) You pull up to the window and begin digging out some cash only to learn from the store employee that the person ahead of you already paid for your meal. Wouldn’t that make you feel amazing? If you were having a bad day up until that point, what are the odds that your mood changes?

This concept is known as “paying it backward.” It’s similar to “paying it forward,” which is the expression for describing when the beneficiary of a good deed repays it to someone else instead of the original benefactor. Paying it forward is a reaction to something that’s already happened. Paying it backward is starting the action in the first place.

And it’s definitely a small rebellion.

Your mission: pay it backward sometime this week by picking up the tab of the person directly behind you in line. It could be at a drive-thru window, a tollbooth, a vending machine, a movie theater, or at the donut shop. If you are in a situation in which you don’t know what the person behind you is going to order (say, for instance, at Starbucks), just leave an extra $5 behind.

The real magic happens when you’re already gone before the person realizes what happens and has a chance to thank you. Although it’s nice to be thanked, this feels better. It’s like getting an extra fry in your bag.

As a bonus, this is an amazingly effective way of dealing with someone who has a bad case of Adultitis. Check out this story from a woman named Kayla:

“I once pulled through into a very packed McDonald’s — the kind that has two lanes. It was very slow going and the man behind me, for some reason, was getting so frustrated with me. He was yelling and visibly irritated with the situation. I was so tempted to get mad and yell back at him that he needed to just calm down, but instead, I decided to ‘kill him with kindness’ and pay for his meal.

“When he pulled up to the window and found out I paid for him, he was caught completely off guard and I saw a change in his demeanor as he yelled ‘thank you’ to me while I was pulling away,” Kayla said. “We have two options of how to handle negative people. We can either stoop to their level, or we can bring them up to ours.”

Watch out, Adultitis. A little spare change can change everything.

P.S. If you try this Small Rebellion, leave a comment here to share what happened or post your adventure online with the hashtag #smallrebellion9

This is a wonderful April Fool’s Day prank that’s fun to do all year long. Just be aware of the national emergency you will cause for everyone around you.

Well, some people will not even notice. But the ones who do are likely to drive miles — I mean MILES, people — out of their way to let you know that you have Taco Bell on the top of your car. Of course, you and the people driving with you have the task of acting clueless. That’s part of the fun (and a challenge).

One guy reported to me that it’s the perfect way to occupy kids on long road trips. They love watching the reactions of other drivers!

One thing’s for sure, there’s no easier or cheaper way to have fun in any economy than “Sticky Cup.”

Those were the words a “friendly” TSA employee working the airport security line delivered to Kim.

First of all, who feels it’s a good idea to predict a disaster to someone on their first day of vacation, the one their five-year-old has been counting down for over 80 days? Granted, Kim was holding a two-month old, jamming a half-folded stroller into the x-ray machine, and prepping four bottles of breast milk for a some guy with blue gloves to make sure they weren’t laced with explosive material.

And second, what if Little Miss Sunshine had known that Kim would also be pumping several times at the park itself?

What she didn’t know, of course, was that it would be our fourth time there since our honeymoon. We’ve now done it twice with a two-month-old. (Ben’s first ride was It’s a Small World; Virginia’s was Under the Sea.) Many people think of going to Disney World with small children is a death sentence. And it could be if you do it wrong. Here’s a few things we learned along the way:

Don’t Go in the Summer.
It’s pretty busy all the time, but it’s hell in the summer. Literally. Temperatures reach 130 degrees and Satan replaces Mickey Mouse in all the parades.

Plan Ahead.
Bringing water bottles, sunscreen, and extra baby wipes are all obvious tips. But think ahead to the worst that can happen and look for ways to avoid them or alleviate the pain if they do. Kim earned MVP of the trip by backing 10 “Blowout Kits.” (Paper towels to lay the kid down on! More paper-towels pre-sprayed with stain remover! Wal-Mart bags for the dirty clothes and diapers!) Ginny is at the stage where diapers are simply no match for the volumous explosions that erupt from her nether regions. She had three blowouts at one day of Epcot alone. Not fun to clean up, to be sure, but because of a little forethought, they weren’t disastrous, either.

Don’t Try Doing Everything.
Disney costs a lot of money, but you don’t have to treat it like an all-you-can-eat buffet. Getting your money’s worth by cramming as many things into each day as possible is a wonderful way to get conquered. Prizes are not awarded to the people with the highest attractions per hour average.

Take Naps.
If you plan on spending most of the day at a park, it’s wise to budget in a time for naps. Even the grown-ups appreciate it. Sure, we “miss out” on a few hours of time when we could have been at the park, but it allows us to enjoy the time we are there SO MUCH MORE. This cannot be overstated.

Take Your Time.
Things take a little longer with kids. You can either fight reality and spend your whole trip trying to speed them up (not gonna happen, by the way) or you can slow down to their level and breathe a little. Magically, enjoying the moment becomes a whole lot easier, especially when you begin noticing all the other people frantically running around like headless chickens.

Know Why You’re Going.
Kim and I have been to Disney World without kids, and yes, it is quieter and less stressful. But these days, I’d have a hard time going without them, because I’d spend the whole time thinking, “Man, I wish Lucy could have seen that,” or “Ben would have just loved this.” Some people think it’s stupid to spend all that money going with young children because they’ll never remember any of it. I resent that thought because it assumes it’s all about the kid. Ben may not remember meeting his hero, but I will never forget the stunned, sunglasses-wearing little boy who stood before Mulan speechless when his time finally did come. Lucy may not remember the details of meeting all the princesses at breakfast, but Kim and I will never forget the sparkle in her eye as each one of them grabbed her by the hand and took the time to talk to her. When we take the kids to Disney World, it’s just as much for us as it is for them.

So…Disney World did not in fact conquer us — just as we knew it wouldn’t — mostly because we did the things explained above.

But there is a bigger moral to this story.

Some people get a kick out of forecasting your story for you, whether they’re parents, teachers, or TSA employees. Never forget: this is YOUR story; you get to decide how it’s going to go.

Do you have any good tips for traveling with kids? Share them below!

I spend a lot of time in airports. Airports are like kids. They can be a CAUSE of Adultitis or they can be a CURE for Adultitis.

It all depends on your approach.

Sara Alvarado LOVES airports. She gets a kick out of watching all the people with Adultitis freak out over stuff that in the grand scheme of things, don’t really matter. On a recent visit to the Denver Airport, Sara and her son Leo bought some silly putty and did a little redecorating to some advertisements hanging on the wall.

It doesn’t take much to ground Adultitis. Lucky for us, we have people like Sara to show us how easy (and fun) it can be.

A Champion of Childhood is someone instilled with the soaring spirit of childhood who rallies against rules that don’t exist while engaging in ruthless, senseless acts of silliness that undermine the slavery of Adultitis and its unadventurous version of adulthood. We like shining a light upon the most remarkable among us, holding them up as a dazzling example of what we should strive for in this epic battle against Adultitis. See more here.

I’ve written before that one of the BEST parts of being grown-up is having the ability and the know-how to take awesome things from childhood to a new level of awesomeness.

The sweet photos above? No, they were not created by some guy in a small plane or captured with the iPhone of a blimp pilot. They were taken by a camera attached to a kite.

Yes, a freaking kite. You know, that thing kids play with on windy days? In fact, Kite Aerial Photography is a real thing. Google it.

Imagine the possibilities! You could get some killer shots of your kids’ baseball or soccer games, your family reunion picnic, or your vacation to Florida.

But please note: you will not just want to duct tape your fancy camera to a kite. That’s something a kid would do, likely resulting in the garnishment of a decades’s worth of allowance money. Grown-ups, however, have come up with plans for rigs you can build to protect your baby at least a little bit.

You can check out 57 other awesome photos taken via kite on this post by Darren Rowse. Who knows, maybe it will inspire you to take kite flying to a new level of awesome.