The first time my daughter, Maia, realized I was leaving on a trip without her, she was alarmed. Seeing photos of where I was going, she sobbed and asked why I was going to leave her behind. I tried to explain my work as a travel writer. But as my husband, Evan, pried her off my leg so I could leave, I wondered if my solo trips would be worth the effort of going without her.
A few days later, I returned home and Maia was happy to hear about my trip. She told me I could keep going on trips for work — but we'd compromise (妥协): she'd come with me.
One year later, an invitation came to experience the Rocky Mountaineer on a parent-child journey. And as terrifying as it seemed to take a preschooler on a luxury train, the trip sounded too good to pass up.
Dressed in her fanciest train-riding clothes, four-year-old Maia watched me take notes about the scenery as we chugged along the Fraser River in BC． Wanting to prove her worth as an assistant, she began interviewing the Australian couple sitting beside us. Unable to spell more than a few words, she drew their answers in crayon. She ended up being such an easy travel companion and we found a special rhythm on the road together.
When she was six, we flew to the Riviera Maya in Mexico. I was impressed by how cheerfully fearless she was when we swam in cenotes. But it was on the flight home, when my glued-to-my-hip kid said it was okay that the airline didn't seat us together, that I realized how much travel was shaping her.
Research says that travel can expand a kid's world, helping them become more empathetic and adaptable while boosting their creativity and imagination. Seeing those changes in Maia, I am really grateful for that compromise I made with her.
