Your child is never too young to travel + see the world
It is never too early to expose children to “different.”

I am frequently told that it's a waste of time to travel with kids because, “They won't remember it anyways." Parents who are more experienced than myself usually advise me to wait until our kids are older–maybe 10, 11 or 12 years?
I smile and nod politely—but the truth is I disagree. We recently returned from our second international family vacation, this time with a 2-year-old and a baby on the way. We had an amazing trip. Any time spent with small children comes with challenges, so I would be lying if I said it was easy. But with challenges come incredible rewards. When I was growing up in America, vacation meant going to see the world—Disney World that is. My small Midwestern town was full of familiar and comfortable things. And as a result, I thought all-things-foreign were weird. And I had no qualms with saying it. International food consisted of the Old El Paso Taco Dinner Kit. Which was a little bit weird, but I ate it anyways. And if I spotted someone speaking a foreign language (other than the high school language teachers) I stopped, stared and may have become suspicious. Because that was weird. Nevertheless, I was curious about the weird. I vividly remember the day in high school Spanish class when we learned about the highest lake in the world, Lake Titicaca. What a weird name for a lake, I thought. But I wanted to see that weird lake for myself. When I was 25 years old I pieced together a small amount of savings from my job as a social worker along with a bundle of credit card reward miles to leave the country by myself for the first time. I booked a flight to Peru with very little else planned. I was probably toostupid idealistic not to be scared.
I stayed in a $9 nightly hostel for three months and traveled the country by bus. Everything was different: the sights, sounds, smells, tastes and feelings. And most importantly, for one of the first times in my life, I was the one that was weird. I was out of my comfort zone.
The word weird often means different. And in my adult years I have come to learn that different is good. Which is an invaluable lesson that I want to instill in my children as early as possible.
I smile and nod politely—but the truth is I disagree. We recently returned from our second international family vacation, this time with a 2-year-old and a baby on the way. We had an amazing trip. Any time spent with small children comes with challenges, so I would be lying if I said it was easy. But with challenges come incredible rewards. When I was growing up in America, vacation meant going to see the world—Disney World that is. My small Midwestern town was full of familiar and comfortable things. And as a result, I thought all-things-foreign were weird. And I had no qualms with saying it. International food consisted of the Old El Paso Taco Dinner Kit. Which was a little bit weird, but I ate it anyways. And if I spotted someone speaking a foreign language (other than the high school language teachers) I stopped, stared and may have become suspicious. Because that was weird. Nevertheless, I was curious about the weird. I vividly remember the day in high school Spanish class when we learned about the highest lake in the world, Lake Titicaca. What a weird name for a lake, I thought. But I wanted to see that weird lake for myself. When I was 25 years old I pieced together a small amount of savings from my job as a social worker along with a bundle of credit card reward miles to leave the country by myself for the first time. I booked a flight to Peru with very little else planned. I was probably too