Living in a Pressure Cooker

I’m enjoying my friend’s reactions when I tell them we’re planning to live in a vintage Airstream and travel around Australia with our three little munchkins.

The best so far, “I think you’re bonkers jamming three kids and two adults into a confined space like that. Maybe you can be sponspored by Kambrook or some other pressure cooker manufacturer.”

I actually think by the time we hit the road it will be an opportunity to let off some steam.

Pressure cooker for me is having three babies in the space of three years (one in India and moving countries within weeks of giving birth), moving house three times in three years, three adorable babies who don’t sleep much, waking up everyday feeling it’s Groundhog Day, never seeing your partner because he works too much, and sharing a house with your mother who you haven’t lived with for 20 years…

I’m under no illusion that trailer living is all peachy and fun. My friend who made the seachange recently described the reality of dropping out from her city life:

“(G)etting on the road doesn’t mean getting away from the work that motherhood brings (in fact in our case, and I’m sure in yours at the start, it actually increased the work while we sorted our new life out and got into the swing of things), for me I think it heightens the experience, softens the grind, increases my patience, and lessens my anxieties. But whatever your circumstances, chores are chores, food still needs to be cooked and dishes washed, poo is poo is poo is poo and puke still stinks whether you are at home or on the road. I know you recognised that you simplified the issues – the work involved and the inevitable sacrifices that these sorts of freedoms demand – but for us it has all been absolutely worth it and only time will tell if this remains the case – and I desperately desperately desperately hope that your freedom – when it finally comes rolling off that boat – is too.”

One of our twins said his first word today “Mama.” My heart almost burst with happiness. Within half an hour he was saying “Mama, Papa, Mama, Papa.” But his Papa is away for work for the next two weeks and is missing out on this incredible milestone. He works hard and he pays the bills but he misses a lot of the magical moments.

I think too many people are on a similar treadmill, missing out on the precious first years of their children’s lives. And for what. A mortgage? A fancy car? Things?

Time to downsize and bring on the Airstream.

5 Comments Add yours

  1. What a cool story, and one certainly worthy of a blog to chronicle the adventure! Best of luck and bon courage, madame!

  2. methylgrace says:

    I’m late to your blog, but have, for a long time, been singing your song. We’ve got a ’68 Airstream Sovereign that we’re working on, and are trying to slay the work-dragons so we can live our dream. Looking forward to reading more (I’m reading them in order), from Seattle WA.

    1. Congratulations. Thats super exciting! Thanks so much for taking the time to leave me a message. Life has crazily busy, especially juggling twin 2 year olds, I am a bit behind on blogging. But I feel inspired to post something new when I receive lovely messages lik eyours. Good luck with the renovation. Cheers, Sonia

      1. methylgrace says:

        Yup, I hear ya! We have a 10yo and a 6yo, and we’re trying to figure out how we’re going to work and homeschool on the road. Possibly writing a book. A million ideas …

      2. Wow thats going to be a challenge. I’d love to follow your adventures. Let me know once you head off. Sonia

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