Careful planning creates a more carefree vacation

Planning a vacation on a budget for two adults and four kids ages 6, 5, 3 and 1 is no easy feat, but it’s an endeavor my husband and I recently undertook. With or without small children, travel is often expensive and complicated.

One way to minimize expenses and keep complications at bay is to plan your vacation with a clear purpose in mind. What are your main priorities? How do you want your getaway to feel? Adventurous? Relaxing? How much are you willing to spend to achieve those priorities? Your answers will help to ensure that you make the most of your vacation.

In the case of our family, our upcoming trip is to celebrate my in-laws and their 40 years of marriage. Accordingly, we determined that our vacation priority was to spend time in a relaxing atmosphere, doing activities that we could enjoy together as family.

Determining our purpose was the easy part. It was a little trickier planning a vacation that would suit our budget and our small children. We knew our destination had to be family-friendly, and that we wanted to avoid harried airport transfers and rental car desks. Those guidelines narrowed our search tremendously.

We also needed to consider how luggage fees would influence the overall price of our trip. After all, we’re still toting things like diapers, sippy cups and ear thermometers, so we knew we wouldn’t be able to skate by with carry-ons, even for a short getaway. With the cost of one checked bag coming in near $40, we decided that we’ll be packing lighter than usual.

Once we had a destination in mind, we started looking for a hotel that could accommodate us. After searching multiple sites and comparing room rates, we found a two-bedroom suite—with a full kitchen—for $160 a night. (The suite sleeps eight, so we’ll be splitting the cost with my husband’s parents.) The hotel is outside the most popular part of our destination city, but it still has plenty of amenities. And with a full kitchen, we’ll be able to save money by preparing some meals in our suite.

While we were trying to decide if this suite was the right choice, the price increased from $160 to $195 a night. The increase wasn’t a deal breaker, but it was disappointing, nevertheless. We did learn a valuable travel lesson, though. If you find a deal that fits your budget, it’s best to book it, rather than hope that the price might go down.

Now that we have booked our hotel suite and paid for our tickets, we have turned our focus to planning our trip activities. We’re planning a loose itinerary that sketches out some specific places that we’d like to visit and restaurants where we’d like to dine. We won’t be scheduling every waking moment, but we’ll use our itinerary to help us anticipate expenses and to ensure that we’re making the most of our getaway. Of course, we’ll include plenty of downtime in our plan, too.

In the end, we plan to spend a total of $1,500 for a resort-style vacation for our family of six. While our vacation is an investment, we feel it’s one worth saving for. We’ll build precious memories as a family and enjoy a respite from our everyday routine.

As the summer months approach, I encourage you to consider your vacation priorities. Thinking about your vacation and carefully considering what activities you hope to do will help keep your budget intact. It’s much easier to return home feeling relaxed when you know your vacation is already paid for.

Birthday boy reminds me of the best gifts in life

For weeks, I’ve been asking my soon-to-be 5-year-old what he wants for his birthday. He’s never wavered from his initial response: “Balloons, and party hats, and peanut butter sandwiches.” In fact, he rather convincingly maintains that “it isn’t a party without balloons and party hats.” And you have never seen a boy so enthusiastic about eating peanut butter.

I assure him that his dad and I can meet those requests, but I try to reframe the question by asking, “What would you like inside your presents?” He flashes me his signature grin and says, “Jelly beans and a package of balloons.” After asking the same question several times in different ways, it eventually dawned on me that I was making a simple situation far more complicated than necessary.

Amazingly, my son was focused on the experience of celebrating his birthday, and on the way he wanted his special day to “feel.” I, however, kept trying to boil down the celebration to something to unwrap. This boy has always relished simple pleasures, including things like jelly beans and curvy straws. His birthday requests reminded me, once again, that even as children what we most want and cherish in life are heartfelt experiences, not “stuff.”

So, the party itself will be our gift to him. This party will consist of a cake, made by grandma, in the shape of a hot air balloon. He’ll be sharing his cake and a platter of PB&J sandwiches cut into balloon shapes with our extended family. Bottles of soda, bunches of grapes and a few bags of chips will round out his birthday meal.

In keeping with the balloon theme, we’ll hang our birthday wreath on the door (a straw form with 72 balloons pinned to it) and fill our dining room with dozens of free-floating helium balloons. I’ll also hang the pennant bunting we used for the last round of birthdays at our house. And we’ll pass out party hats, of course.

He will have one small gift from us to open, though technically I consider it part of the overall experience. That present will be a t-shirt bearing a drawing he made a few months ago. He’d drawn it after I’d asked him to make a picture of something that made him feel happy. Not surprisingly, he drew a picture of himself, wearing a party hat and holding a bunch of balloons. (As funny aside, his drawing bears his sister’s name, because he can’t quite write his own.)

When I look at the details of his drawing, I see a moment captured in time, a moment when my little boy finds pleasure in the smallest of things. I want to do the same. I am so grateful for this balloon-loving boy who shows me that many joys in life are found in simple things. Planning a party that celebrates him and what he loves reminds me that, in any season of life, our lives can be rich in pleasures that cost very little.

Simple pleasures are even better when shared with family and friends. Planning my son’s party also reminds me that, despite my repeated attempts to find out what to buy him, this celebration isn’t about presents. Having people to celebrate with is perhaps the best gift of all. What I most want, and what I most want to give my son, are experiences that can be enjoyed with the people we love. And if those people happen to be wearing party hats and holding balloons, it will be a perfect birthday indeed.

List of goals moves me toward a satisfying life

When life moves at such a frenetic pace, it's difficult to carve out time for things I enjoy. In fact, it's even difficult to tackle some of the more mundane tasks, such as cleaning out my giant chest freezer (with 10 pounds of frozen tomatillos lurking in there somewhere) or researching which waffle iron would be the best choice for my family.

Knowing that my life fills so quickly, last year I wrote a list of things I wanted to accomplish before my next birthday, which is approaching in May. I wrote those 36 things on a large piece of poster board and hung it in a place where I would pass by it many times each day.

It was an ambitious list, one where I let wild, impractical ideas co-mingle with more practical ones I could easily accomplish. On the side of impractical was the idea that I would sew a skirt; I've never sewn a garment in all my years and don't even have a working sewing machine. Still, I put it on the list, knowing that the only way I'd make room in my life for learning a craft was to make it a priority.

More practically, I committed to reading the giant tome Anna Karenina and to baking a pie from scratch. I also decided that I wanted to paint a canvas, go on a garden tour, and book a vacation, all items I've been able to accomplish and joyfully cross off my list. As for the vacation I booked, if all goes as planned, my husband and l will be waking up in a hotel overlooking the Caribbean on the morning of my birthday.

Other goals, such as getting a new manual focus camera and learning how to use it, probably won't happen before my birthday arrives. But what has happened is that I became more motivated to take better photographs with the camera I already have (which really was as simple as reading the user's manual). Similarly, I had a goal of journaling for my children 50 times over the course of a year. I didn't reach 50, but because I made writing for my children a priority, I was encouraged to write more often.

In some cases, my priorities simply changed during the year. For example, I thought I'd wanted to wallpaper my living room, but I realized that I didn't want the hassle or expense of taking on the project. Changing my mind—and even not reaching some of the goals I wrote down—is fine with me. The list, after all, was more about giving myself the space—and the permission—to acknowledge what brings me joy.

Over the last 10 months, I've been reminded how satisfying it is to take the time to figure out what I want and put it in writing. Sometimes, that's all it took for me to begin realigning my priorities and to work on reaching my goals. Other times, I had to take an honest look at those goals and ask myself, “Is this truly what I want?” In either case, I have been empowered to spend my time and money in ways that bring fulfillment.

You don't have to wait for an upcoming birthday, the start of a new year, or any other magical moment to start making and reaching your goals. Start with three things you want to accomplish and put them in writing. Put the list somewhere you'll see it often, and you'll be surprised by how quickly you start making choices that move you closer to getting the life you want.

My simple garden gives us beauty, food without fuss

My life is complicated, with four kids and one very stubborn hound dog, and so I resist things that require fuss. I don’t buy clothing that needs to be dry cleaned, or even ironed for that matter. I don’t grow finicky houseplants or prepare recipes with long lists of ingredients. I won’t even wear a hairstyle that requires frequent trips to the salon.

In general, I make choices designed to keep my life as simple as possible. Not having to run clothing to the dry cleaner, for example, means I save myself time and money. The same is true for preparing uncomplicated meals at home.

My garden is no exception to my keep-it-simple mantra. Sure, it’s possible—even easy—to make gardening complicated, by growing varieties of plants that need pampering and by worrying about things like soil temperature and PH, for instance. But again, I avoid all the fuss. Instead, I get seeds in the ground when the weather becomes pleasant, and I grow tough-as-nails plants that can tolerate a little neglect.

I work with simple and inexpensive tools—a hand trowel, a spade, a hoe, and a rake—and use composted manure I collect from my neighbors’ horses to fertilize my garden. As for my garden beds themselves, they are built with rocks foraged from our property, and the paths are lined with reclaimed woodchips.

When I started gardening, I didn’t exactly know what I was doing. Though I had read a few primers and absorbed garden wisdom from my parents over the years, I had no formal instruction of any kind. Instead, I literally just dug in and got my hands dirty, learning as I went.

I quickly discovered which plants thrived in my garden, and I decided to “love what grows,” abandoning specimens that didn’t perform well or that seemed to require extra care. I also recognized that perennial herbs and fruits are good investments; my chives and rhubarb come up in early spring and produce all summer long.

Now six years later, I have a large garden filled with sturdy perennials and with beds devoted to growing fruits, herbs, and vegetables. And from May until September, I am able to gather fresh produce by taking a few steps outside my back door. (As an added bonus, my children will eat anything that comes from our little plot—even onions.)

This year, I spent $48 on new heirloom garden seeds, which I’ll plant alongside seeds leftover from past years. For the first time, I’ll be collecting and saving the seeds from these heirloom varieties, which means I’ll have an even larger return on my initial investment. I’ll also be devoting more time to learning about companion planting—placing certain plants next to one another to improve plant growth and to repel pests.

I started gardening with only a willingness to learn and a desire to use the resources available to me. Together, these two things have made it possible for me to enjoy a frugal hobby that is good for me and for my family. By keeping my garden plan simple, I enjoy the benefits of homegrown food, without having to spend more time or money than I want to.

If blooming flowers or picking garden-fresh tomatoes seem alluring, I encourage you to dig in and try it this spring. Start with the space and resources you have; perhaps a friend or family member will even give you some seeds or transplants. Investing in a garden, big or small, can bring you a lot of satisfaction without breaking your budget.

Small steps toward my dream cultivate happiness

For as long as I can remember, I have loved old, white farmhouses. I moon over their clapboard siding and steeply pitched roofs, their mullioned windows and gracious front porches. I love them even more when they are surrounded by white picket fences, with red barns nearby.

Fueled by my farm infatuation, I have spent many hours trolling real estate sites looking for my own little white house with a big red barn. I have also been known to endlessly blather to my very patient husband about apple orchards and milking goats.

However, I began to realize that the more time I spent imagining my life in a white house, tending to my Nubian goats, the more restless and discontented I became. In fact, focusing on what I didn’t have was making me noticeably unhappy.

When I look closer at the situation, I recognize that I’d unconsciously gotten caught up in the “I’ll be happy when” mentality. I’d made my happiness conditional, believing that somehow being there—wherever there might be—was better than being here. What’s more, my conditional happiness was based more on romantic fantasies than the gritty realities of farm life.

Unfortunately, getting caught in the trap of conditional happiness is easy. What isn’t so easy is learning how to quiet the “I’ll be happy when” messages we send ourselves. These are the messages that say, “I’ll be happy when I get a promotion.” Or, “I’ll be happy when I get a new car.” The fact is that if you were unhappy before you got the promotion or the new car, you’ll very likely feel the same way after the initial buzz of achieving these things wears off.

For me, acknowledging that I was postponing happiness for a pipe dream was essential. (Again, enter my very patient husband, who helped me realize this.) Once I did this, I was better able to appreciate what I have right now, which includes a small acreage with a creek running through it, a neighborhood filled with people willing to help one another, and a sizeable garden that produces hundreds of pounds of produce every summer. I’m continuing to expand this list in a gratitude journal I have been keeping.

Although I may not be able to have a full-blown farm right now, I recognize that there are some intermediary steps I can take in the meantime. Building a small chicken coop out of reclaimed cedar and getting a few laying hens was one of those steps. We’ve been collecting over a dozen of our own farm- fresh eggs every week, and we have enjoyed watching our hens strut around the yard – a pastime we have dubbed “chicken TV.”

Other plans include ordering some dwarf fruit trees for our existing garden and expanding the variety of other produce we grow. (One of those new varieties we’ll be planting is stevia, an herb known for being a potent sweetener.) We also bought a bundle of posts that we plan to use on the back portion of our property to build a fence for some animals (which are yet to be determined).

Instead of feeling stuck because I am waiting on happiness in my white farmhouse, I’m focusing my energy on creating a farm-like atmosphere for myself and my family right now. I’ll take satisfaction in the flowers and vegetables that emerge from my garden this year, and in delicious eggs from my own hens. This kind of happiness costs me very little. It only takes determination to look for the good in what I have now.