Trying to live boundless -- even as a nervous parent
This summer, my four children and I are spending July in Spain. Of course, I was looking forward to a long vacation where we could live life at a slower pace. But I had other reasons for choosing to spend a month abroad. My four children have grown up fast. Perhaps too fast. Lately, I have worried they are not prepared to navigate the world on their own. Like every parent, I find myself wondering if I have done my job well enough, ensuring they will be responsible and accountable to the world. I hoped this trip would help me figure out what I might have missed along the way.
We took a leisurely route to Spain, flying from Seattle through Iceland with an overnight layover in Amsterdam. Their complaining started when we landed in Amsterdam. The kids were tired, hungry, hot, and struggling to adjust to a 9-hour time change. As I watched them slump toward the airport hotel with their suitcases, I wondered where I had gone wrong. Things did not improve much from there.
One of my teenagers had two years of Spanish under his belt and two had one year of high school Spanish each, so I figured they could navigate once we arrived. I was wrong. They were unable to decipher the instructions on the machine selling tickets for the train from the airport. They could not ask for directions to our hotel. Of course, our party of six was hard to miss, while we stood there looking lost and arguing in English about which train platform upon which we should be standing. I wondered what was the point of taking high school Spanish was if they could not use it in real life.
For the first few days, we got by on my one year of high school French, the Italian I picked up in in Italy after medical school, and the “medical” Spanish acquired during my three-year pediatric residency training in Colorado. By the end of the first week, we finally arrived at our destination, Estepona, a small town on the Sun Coast, across from Morocco.
I booked the vacation through Boundless Life, a company that provides furnished accommodations, educational programs, and coworking spaces. My youngest child was enrolled in their school program, but the older three aged out of the school, so hoping to advance their language skills, I found a Spanish tutor instead.
Based on their pre-test, all three landed at the same skill level, which should have been my first clue their Spanish education had been less than stellar. It turns out having one year of high school Spanish was no different than having two years. After their first session, Nazareth, their teacher, said they had a lot of catching up to do. I was frustrated, but not surprised.
After the second class, my children brought home packets to complete with a number 1 on it, which looked akin to a first-grade level. They were matching the pictures of objects, such as hammers, saws, and cooking utensils by drawing a line to the corresponding Spanish word. While the rest of the city spent their afternoon siesta sleeping, between 2-4pm each day, my children were begrudgingly finishing Spanish packets at the kitchen table.
When you read this column, I will have been here with my children for 2 weeks. And what a difference that two weeks has made. Their Spanish skills have grown by leaps and bounds. Yesterday, the packets required answering questions in full sentences. They are handling the homework on their own. I am no longer looking up the instructions on Google translate to help them.
This week, my children took a list to the grocery store and came back with everything on it. My second oldest child brought me a croissant from a local bakery, just because he thought I might be hungry. He ordered it and a sandwich for himself in Spanish with no difficulty at all. Much to my relief, they can read the restaurant menus, interact with people on the street, and ask for directions when necessary.
I came to Spain hoping that my children would see life from a new perspective to better understand the world. As I reflect on another afternoon siesta filled with Spanish homework, I have realized those things are not really the point of the trip at all. It is that I get to spend uninterrupted time with my children, who will not be children for much longer.
The majority of the time parents share with their children is spent before they reach adulthood. By the time a child turns 18, 90% of the total time parents will ever spend with them is over. This month, I get to walk everywhere with them, eat meals together, and watch the sun go down from the roof of our apartment, free from the usual distractions of every day life. This month has shown me that I have prepared them for their future. And that they will be fine.
