Adventure Travel

Whenever I really feel like smiling, I check in to Where the Hell is Matt and watch the dance video again. I love that thing, from the music that echoes MZ's worldbeat dance list to the fabulous array of places he's been.

I love travel and I miss travel. But nothing has prepared me for parenting like travel. Much like travel, parenting is a crapshoot, a series of guessing games that you never get to stop playing. And like travel, it's damned uncomfortable at times, whether because your daughter just pushed a spoon down your throat to see what would happen, or because your heart is breaking as you listen to her sob with a fever, or a fall, or the frustration of being on earth, or because you really have no freakin' idea how to respond to the latest developmental or socialization mystery.

I also love that video because he's always dancing. Despite the inevitable pain and discomfort he's endured -- come on, you think he never met a bedbug? an overstuffed bus on a bumpy unpaved road? the runs? -- he's dancing. He's smiling and he's dancing, because what is greater than this sense of personal discovery that feels like salvation? Turns out, being a parent, that's what.

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