You know about our camping trip. But did you know that it all started with the Titanic?
My 6-year-old son is a Titanic fanatic. He first got interested in the Titanic about a year ago, after we picked up a book about the famous wreck at a local garage sale. He poured over that book, passionately, so we went to the library and checked out more books. And videos. Today, my son has darn close to 10 books on the Titanic, and he can tell you almost anything about the ship and its discovery.
But of course, my son has never been on the Titanic. He doesn't even remember the visit our family made to a traveling Titanic exhibit at the Milwaukee Public Museum a few years ago. This year, though, marks 100 years since the Titanic's sinking, so I jumped online, hoping to find a similar exhibit within easy driving distance.
What I found instead was the Titanic Museum Attraction, a special Titanic-only museum featuring a reproduction of the Grand Staircase! I was immediately intrigued. I knew my son would love it and I -- well, I wanted to see the Grand Staircase for myself.
The only problem was that the Titanic Museum wasn't anywhere near our house. The two locations -- Branson, Missouri and Pigeon Forge, Tennessee -- are both a good distance from our home in southeastern Wisconsin. But I really wanted to take my son. So I started calculating mileage and locating interesting stops along the way, and came up with our Titanic-by-way-of-the-Indiana-Dunes-and-Mammoth-Cave vacation.
We first glimpsed the Titanic Museum as we were passing through Pigeon Forge on the way to our campground in the Great Smoky Mountain National Park. We'd been driving for hours and hours when suddenly we saw the great ship itself materialize along the right side of the road. That sight alone -- a real, full-size version of the Titanic (albeit, only her front half) -- was enough to thrill my son.
We returned the next day for our official tour. Each of us was given a boarding pass which included the name and background info of an actual passenger aboard the Titanic. My 6-yr-old recognized "his" name -- Dick Williams -- almost immediately. (A few months earlier, we'd read an article about Williams, a tennis star who survived the sinking.) The rest of us speculated about our fates, which would be revealed at the end of our tour. (Spoiler alert: Most of us survived.)
We wandered through the exhibits, which included diagrams and models of the Titanic, maps of her voyage and actual and recreated artifacts from the famous ship. We listened to a Captain Smith look-alike tell us about her voyage. And we loved the actual-size reproductions that made us feel as if we'd snuck onto the ship. We saw a full-size third-class stateroom, complete with two sets of bunk beds. We pressed a button and saw water flood a staircase; we were safely behind a pane of thick glass, but the experience nonetheless gave us an idea of how terrifying it must have felt to stand in the path of such water.
The boys enjoyed shoveling coal into the furnace. The pre-weighted shovel gave them some idea of the physicality of this task, and the signs nearby put the back-breaking labor into perspective: stokers shoveled coal in 10 hour shifts, around the clock, to keep the Titanic fueled.
The Grand Staircase was as beautiful as it looks in pictures -- but did you know that the surface of the stairs was not marble, but linoleum? (Back then, linoleum was the new, amazing thing.)
The best part, though, was the opportunity to experience 28 degree water firsthand. We knew, from our studies, that the water around the Titanic on the night of her sinking was just 28 degrees Farenheit, and that few people survived for more than a few minutes in such chilly water. But the Titanic Museum gave us the opportunity to dunk our hands into water chilled to 28 degrees. Until you've submerged your hand in 28 degree water, you can't really understand what the books say when they describe such cold as "like a thousand knives, stabbing you." I found it difficult to keep my hand in the water for even 15 seconds.
The kids (and I) also loved climbing on Titanic ship decks tilted to different angles to represent the angles of the decks at various points in her sinking. It's one thing to watch a movie of people sliding down the deck as the ship sank, and another to personally experience how hard it is to stand on ship that's going down.
The museum was a treasure trove of primary sources too, including photos and scrapbook pages taken by a priest onboard, postcards from passengers and authentic 1912 newspapers reporting the Titanic's demise. I was particularly moved by two telelgrams. One, sent from a boilerman (who was off-duty at the time of the sinking) to his family said simply, "Safe." (So much, in that one word!) Another, sent by the White Star Line to the wife of a passenger, said, "Regret your husband not saved." I'm willing to bet that tears were shed over that piece of paper.
My sons, of course, were not as enchanted with the primary documents as I was. I know they will never forget what 28 degree water feels like, though, and I know they now have a fuller understanding of the tragedy of the Titanic.
Disclosure: After seeing a previous blog post mentioning our planned trip to the Titanic Museum, museum personnel reached out and asked if I'd be interested in writing a blog post about our visit in exchange for free family admission. The boys and I received free admission and audio tours during our visit.
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Friday, October 30, 2009
Parenting Writers on Parenting
The best part of my cruise/conference? Getting to hang around with a lot of other writers who also happen to be parents.
Some of the brave souls (such as Blog Salad's Ron Doyle) brought their children along with them. The rest of us had much more fun. We sat around the karaoke bar, sipped grown-up drinks and swapped stories about parenting.
Can I just say how liberating it was to hear other parenting writers admit that they are not perfect parents? All together, we represented years of parenting expertise. Dozens of children between us. Hundreds of published parenting articles and real-life, real-time access to acknowledged child-rearing experts. We, after all, are the people who write articles such as, "32 Easy Ways to Streamline Your Crazy-Busy Life," "Discipline Tricks That Stick," and "The Secret to Healthier Happier Kids." (All actual article titles from actual magazines.)
And yet, our real lives often look very little like the lives portrayed in the magazines. (Think of us as the parenting equivalent of female fashion models.) Despite knowing the "right" things to do, we yell. (Sometimes within earshot of the neighbors). We give in. We bargain. We plead. We make the same mistakes again and again and again.
We might write the articles that tell you how to balance work and family, but we don't have it all together. We're struggling too, just like everyone else. Our lives - just like yours -- are a constant work in progress. Besides, what article can prepare you for sick kids, cat poop and Internet issues?
The bottom line, as always, is that you are the true expert. We might have access to academic studies, talking heads and statistics, but you know your family and children better than we ever will. You're the only one who can decide, on the spur of the moment, what to do when your preschooler whacks your sick tween on the head with a tractor. (Wait -- that's my life.)
So trust your instincts, and take comfort in the fact that parenting writers are winging it too.
Some of the brave souls (such as Blog Salad's Ron Doyle) brought their children along with them. The rest of us had much more fun. We sat around the karaoke bar, sipped grown-up drinks and swapped stories about parenting.
Can I just say how liberating it was to hear other parenting writers admit that they are not perfect parents? All together, we represented years of parenting expertise. Dozens of children between us. Hundreds of published parenting articles and real-life, real-time access to acknowledged child-rearing experts. We, after all, are the people who write articles such as, "32 Easy Ways to Streamline Your Crazy-Busy Life," "Discipline Tricks That Stick," and "The Secret to Healthier Happier Kids." (All actual article titles from actual magazines.)
And yet, our real lives often look very little like the lives portrayed in the magazines. (Think of us as the parenting equivalent of female fashion models.) Despite knowing the "right" things to do, we yell. (Sometimes within earshot of the neighbors). We give in. We bargain. We plead. We make the same mistakes again and again and again.
We might write the articles that tell you how to balance work and family, but we don't have it all together. We're struggling too, just like everyone else. Our lives - just like yours -- are a constant work in progress. Besides, what article can prepare you for sick kids, cat poop and Internet issues?
The bottom line, as always, is that you are the true expert. We might have access to academic studies, talking heads and statistics, but you know your family and children better than we ever will. You're the only one who can decide, on the spur of the moment, what to do when your preschooler whacks your sick tween on the head with a tractor. (Wait -- that's my life.)
So trust your instincts, and take comfort in the fact that parenting writers are winging it too.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Re-Entering the Real World
If it wasn't for the scar on my finger, I wouldn't believe it myself.
Just a few short days ago, I was snorkeling in the Bahamas. The water was aquamarine, the temperature was balmy and the company, sublime. (The scar, if you're interested, is the result of an overly eager fish. I had fish food; he wanted it!)
For a few short days, I wasn't Jennifer Fink, Mom of Boys; I was Jennifer Fink, Freelance Writer. The boys stayed home with their dad while I joined dozens of other writers aboard the Carnival Imagination for a three-day writer's conference called Cruising for Profits.
And then, I came home. To sick kids (H1N1 has hit our home), cat poop and Internet issues. It was a bit of a transition, to say the least.
But this is what parenting is all about. These are the moments that create a life, that create bonds between parent and child, brother and sister. These moments -- making smoothies for sons who don't feel like eating or wetting washcloths to lay on hot little foreheads -- are more meaningful than anything I experienced on the cruise.
Don't get me wrong: I had a great time conga dancing on the Lido deck and would love, someday, to explore the Caribbean with my sons. Real life, though, isn't always real fun, and that's OK.
I hate watching my boys struggle with high fevers and -- let's be honest -- I hate getting up multiple times a night. I hate stumbling downstairs by feel alone and pouring Motrin by the light of the moon. I hate scratching event after event off my calendar, and I hate waiting and wondering if and when I'll get sick.
But the beauty of these moments is that they allow us to serve one another. In their sickness, my boys become vulnerable and they let me in, just a little more than usual. Those who are healthy express their concern for the sick, doing everything from filling water bottles to delivering pillows. At the end of the day, we realize that, despite our disagreements and bickering, we love each other. The last two days, both of my older boys have listed "family," as one of their Favorite Parts. Usually, they consider "family" the cause of all that's wrong in their worlds.
Stepping out of my life for a few days was absolutely wonderful. Stepping back in is pretty nice as well.
Just a few short days ago, I was snorkeling in the Bahamas. The water was aquamarine, the temperature was balmy and the company, sublime. (The scar, if you're interested, is the result of an overly eager fish. I had fish food; he wanted it!)
For a few short days, I wasn't Jennifer Fink, Mom of Boys; I was Jennifer Fink, Freelance Writer. The boys stayed home with their dad while I joined dozens of other writers aboard the Carnival Imagination for a three-day writer's conference called Cruising for Profits.
And then, I came home. To sick kids (H1N1 has hit our home), cat poop and Internet issues. It was a bit of a transition, to say the least.
But this is what parenting is all about. These are the moments that create a life, that create bonds between parent and child, brother and sister. These moments -- making smoothies for sons who don't feel like eating or wetting washcloths to lay on hot little foreheads -- are more meaningful than anything I experienced on the cruise.
Don't get me wrong: I had a great time conga dancing on the Lido deck and would love, someday, to explore the Caribbean with my sons. Real life, though, isn't always real fun, and that's OK.
I hate watching my boys struggle with high fevers and -- let's be honest -- I hate getting up multiple times a night. I hate stumbling downstairs by feel alone and pouring Motrin by the light of the moon. I hate scratching event after event off my calendar, and I hate waiting and wondering if and when I'll get sick.
But the beauty of these moments is that they allow us to serve one another. In their sickness, my boys become vulnerable and they let me in, just a little more than usual. Those who are healthy express their concern for the sick, doing everything from filling water bottles to delivering pillows. At the end of the day, we realize that, despite our disagreements and bickering, we love each other. The last two days, both of my older boys have listed "family," as one of their Favorite Parts. Usually, they consider "family" the cause of all that's wrong in their worlds.
Stepping out of my life for a few days was absolutely wonderful. Stepping back in is pretty nice as well.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Snapshot Sunday: My Fish!

I am not much of an angler. Boy #1, however, is a fishing fanactic -- and a pretty talented one at that. This summer he guided me to my very first Northern pike.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Up, Up and Away!

Is there anything worse than traveling cross-country by air with four small boys? Well, yes -- not traveling and deadly disease come to mind -- but when hubby and I traveled to California two summers ago, kids in tow, for my brother's wedding, we both agreed that traveling via covered wagon might be a more appropriate means of transportation for four active and rambunctious boys.

Our youngest was just a year-and-a-half at the time. If you've even had a toddler, you know they have exactly one purpose in life: To Move. A four-hour plane ride is not exactly conducive to moment.
We drew up and plan, and not suprisingly, our plan looked remarkably similar to our road trip plan. The essentials? Snacks and diversions.
So here, then, are my Top 5 Tips for Surviving Air Travel with Boys:
- Prepare. Have each boy pack a backpack with a simple change of clothes (at least clean underwear) and whatever toys, games, books he thinks he'll enjoy. It's a lot of fun to see what each boy chooses -- and it might not be what you'd expect. (Boy #2 can have a ball pretending with cheap McDonald's toys.)
- Bring the car seat, even if you haven't purchased a ticket for your youngest. When you check in, ask if there are any extra seats on the flight. If so, you may be able to strap in the seat and your youngest, at least for a portion of the flight. We were able to do this on the return flight and thank goodness! Strapped in, our youngest was able to settle down and sleep, at least for a couple minutes.
- Embrace electronics. I don't care how opposed you are to Playstation and the Disney channel at home. On board an airplane, electronic diversions can be a lifesaver. Think Leapfrog, Nintendo DS and laptops equipped with DVD players. But don't break out the electronics right away. Wait. And then wait some more. Wait til the kids are completely bored and antsy and you're about to lose your mind. Then plug in a DVD. Any former objections to electronic babysitters will immediately be erased.
- Play with your kids. Rock, paper, scissors, Hangman, cards -- whatever. Engaging with your kids in a meaningful way will help keep their minds off the fact that their butts have been in a chair for over two hours.
- Expect meltdowns. I'm not saying that your toddler will wail for hours on end, or that your usually-polite grade schooler will kick the seat in front of him for the entire flight. I'm just saying that if you expect some hitches, the entire trip will go more smoothly. Your boys will not be perfect angels for the entire flight, despite your proximity to the heavens. And you won't be the perfect parent. So when glitches occur, take a deep breath and move on.
In the end, our trip was worth every minute of whining and in-air struggle. (On the plus side, my arms were in great shape from wrangling my one-year-old!).
Have more great tips for air travel with boys? Share them here!
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Show Them the World
I'm in New York City today -- sans kids -- so my thoughts today are a bit of a whirlwind. In just the few hours I've been here (my plane touched down 6 hours ago), I've experienced more new sights, sounds and people than I do in a month back home.
I've watched street vendors kneeling, shoes off, on prayer rugs facing Mecca. I've strolled through the diamond district. I saw a mobile movie set, stood in line for over an hour in Times Square (I scored a half-price ticket to Mary Poppins!) and heard more languages than I could identify.
Yes, I live in a small town. Yes, my town of not-quite 5000 lacks in diversity. But wherever you're from, there are new worlds to explore, often a lot closer than you think.
The boys aren't with me this trip, so I can only imagine what they'd think. I'm guessing this wouldn't be their favorite place in the world; my boys are more at home in nature than in urban settings. But I know they'd soak it all in. Without me saying a word, they'd see and learn and recognize one big lesson: Not everyone lives like us.
They know that, of course, but it's a powerful lesson to reinforce. The more you expose your sons to other places, people and ways of doing things, the more they'll realize that the world is full of possibilities. There is no one right way to be, one right way to live. Anything is possible, and it's up to them to envision and then obtain the future that's right for them.
Our job, as parents, is to show them the world and support them as they create the future.
I've watched street vendors kneeling, shoes off, on prayer rugs facing Mecca. I've strolled through the diamond district. I saw a mobile movie set, stood in line for over an hour in Times Square (I scored a half-price ticket to Mary Poppins!) and heard more languages than I could identify.
Yes, I live in a small town. Yes, my town of not-quite 5000 lacks in diversity. But wherever you're from, there are new worlds to explore, often a lot closer than you think.
The boys aren't with me this trip, so I can only imagine what they'd think. I'm guessing this wouldn't be their favorite place in the world; my boys are more at home in nature than in urban settings. But I know they'd soak it all in. Without me saying a word, they'd see and learn and recognize one big lesson: Not everyone lives like us.
They know that, of course, but it's a powerful lesson to reinforce. The more you expose your sons to other places, people and ways of doing things, the more they'll realize that the world is full of possibilities. There is no one right way to be, one right way to live. Anything is possible, and it's up to them to envision and then obtain the future that's right for them.
Our job, as parents, is to show them the world and support them as they create the future.
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