Before the pandemic, I world schooled the twins for a year. Officially, my job was to get us all safely around the globe, and plan our learning each day, but really, while I did get us safely back home, and we did learn a lot, there were some dicey bits along the way, and the “school” aspect went out the window on day 3.

That’s not to say that we didn’t learn anything. We absolutely did. School happened about 16 hours a day, 7 days a week, on four continents, but worksheets suddenly felt wrong when we were steps away from the Roman Forum.

Clearly, we returned home in one piece, but we have some stories to tell—malfunctioning car on a very steep single lane road at 14,000 feet in the middle of the Atacama Desert, 40 hour transportation marathons, and 33 foot swells in a boat in the South Pacific.

In the end, we connected the dots on how different countries participated in WWII, we met up with a lifetime full of friends, old and new, and we learned how to thrive in ambiguity while getting the most out of our time abroad.

If the kids learned nothing else, I would hope that they have at least become more curious and compassionate little people, better able to navigate this life we have been given.