Bald Eagles in Itasca

Once upon a time, I was outdoorsy. I even went to the Boundary Waters and navigated by compass and portaged and camped without any contact with civilization. I also fell into an icy cold lake when I went to pump water because I like to learn things the hard way and was certain that most people shouldn't stand up in canoes but that I was special and had special standing up in canoe powers. Even soaking wet and freezing, I laughed because I was rugged and all the other hardcore outdoors words.

But then I had kids. I could say that having kids made me soft and indoorsy but I don't think that's true. Sure, I am more tired now and have developed a love for activities that have a low hassle factor but, really, I think I've just realized that I like certain comforts.

I like sleeping in a bed.

I like running water.

I like being clean.

I like walls between me and nature.

And, yes, I like WiFi.

When we took Zeca camping at Itasca State Park last summer, I remembered how much I'd grown to love the comforts of home. Call me spoiled, but I don't like to have to wipe my feet off before climbing into my sleeping quarters.

But there were good things about the trip too and it was easy for me to forget those or to tuck them away because they didn't fit with the  "Vikki the Princess Goes Camping" narrative I had going at the time.

When I was reading about the crows the other day, I learned that sometimes crows will surround an eagle and bring it down.

And then I remembered the eagles we saw at Itasca.

We were canoeing and turned to see a bald eagle swooping down towards the water, not to far from us and parallel to our canoe. Before Luisa could grab the camera, it had ascended and then we watched as it flew into a tree at the point of an island up ahead of us.

We canoed closer and watched as it took flight and joined another adult in the sky. Then, we saw movement in the tree and that's when we noticed a juvenile bald eagle on the shoreline. We stayed and watched for some time and then, another joined it from the tree. We sat quietly in the canoe - Luisa, Zeca and me - and watched the birds as they stretched their wings and stared out over the water. Eventually, we left them in peace after snapping a few pictures.

Four bald eagles. A rare sight. A beautiful moment.

This Is Not Barbados

I took Luisa to the airport this morning because she is heading to Barbados and then Trinidad for the next week. We've all gotten used to the fact that she travels for work and things are hectic when she is gone but we have all learned to make the best of it. When she first took this job, it was much harder. Her trips were often longer and I worked full time and then had to wrangle two young kids and get them to school and all their activities and everything had to be carefully planned. It always seemed like something as simple as a misplaced shoe could throw our whole lives into chaos because the balance was so fragile.

The kids are older now and I work from home so things are much more manageable.

Now, the hardest part of Luisa's travel is making peace with the fact that she is going somewhere that looks like this...

While I am stuck at home where it looks like this...

Well, that and the fact that I just asked the kids what they were doing downstairs and Zeca said, "Miguel is throwing me on the couch!"

Traveling As An LGBT Family

Every two or three years since 1997, Luisa and I have traveled to Portugal to visit her family. In 2002, we took our first trip with Miguel who was just 10 months old. We had all the worries that most first time parents have: "Will he terrorize the passengers on the long flight?" and "Will he eat?" and "Will he sleep?" and "Will we lose him?"

Okay, I might be alone on that last one.

But we had an entirely different set of worries too: "What if we lose his birth certificate that lists as both as his legal parents?" and "Will customs officials recognize us as a family?" and "If he gets sick while traveling, will we both be allowed to make decisions for him?"

During that first trip, Miguel was perfectly behaved on the long flights and he ate well and tried new things and we did not lose him. He did not, however, sleep but we survived that somehow. We did not lose his birth certificate but it didn't prove to be the talisman we'd hoped. Customs did not recognize us as a family. We were not allowed to wait together and go through customs together. Luisa took him through as his mother and I went through a different line and dealt with a different agent alone. It could have been worse but it certainly hurt to be separated and not seen for the family that we were.

In 2006, we went back to Portugal with our two kids. Miguel was five and Zeca was 16 months old. We didn't worry about the plane rides or eating or sleeping but the nagging worries about our kids and their birth certificates remained. We could deal with being separated. We just didn't want any problems.

That time, the customs agent read both passports carefully and then looked at us, "You are both the parents?" We answered together, "Yes." Our jet-lagged kids looked at him and he tilted his head and looked at the passports again, "Okay." We both exhaled.

We have had more kindness than trouble throughout the years but there is always that moment when Luisa and I hold our breath and wait to see if we'll be questioned, to see how we'll be treated. Traveling as a LGBT family is always an adventure.

Please join me for a discussion of LGBT family travel at the TravelingMom Twitter Party tomorrow, November 6th at 8 p.m. CST. RSVP for a chance to win one of two signed copies of Cat Cora’s Classics with a Twist: Fresh Takes on Favorite Dishes or a Residence Inn gift card valued at $250. Then, follow the #TMOM and #RIFamily hashtags to join the conversation. I'll be there chatting!

Thank you to Residence Inn by Marriot for sponsoring this discussion and post.