We have lived in a 12×12 cubicle in Japan, a studio in Korea and a 3,000 square foot home in Kansas — and somehow the tiniest place of all taught us the most important lesson.

Ha, with that title, I bet you thought Adam was writing this blog.. sorry to disappoint, it is I, Nicole.

We are here in Ohio for our first 6 weeks of this grand adventure. I think before I go into detail, I have to bring up the past.

Adam and I have lived in some really small spaces. Remember that 12×12 cubicle we lived in, in Japan? Or our first studio in Korea? Our second studio in Korea.. Our 500 sq ft place in downtown Orlando…

Then of course we had our 1100 sq ft rental in Tacoma, the 3/3 we own in Denver and our latest, 3000 sq ft, two kitchen home in Kansas. Every home has served us well, given us the space we needed at the time and provided us with a safe, fun and perfect environment.

When you book a place on airbnb you never know exactly what you are going to get. We pulled up to this adorable little lakeside community where the average age is probably 55, yet on the weekends through Labor Day tourists come in and vacation. Most all condos have boat slips, some you can see the water and others you can not. I know when I found this place, the owner mentioned it was small, but I said it wasn’t a big deal as we aren’t that big of people.

I felt like a snob the minute we walked in. The place has been updated and was decorated cutely as a lake house, not our style, lots of knick knacks and things everywhere. We definitely are more of the more clean, sparse look. The kitchen had very little food storage space, about a billion spoons but only 4 forks… There wasn’t a TV in the living space. There is no table that seats 5, except for a picnic table outside in the carport. The wall air conditioning units are SOOOOO loud that you have to actually raise your voice to speak when they are on. The fridge has a broken shelf and has no drawers to organize all the food we brought. The sunroom has these hightop tables and uncomfortable high top chairs. The walls are super thin and with the windows open you can hear Canadian Geese and crickets all night long. The one bedroom is up the spiral staircase (Jake keeps reminding us of this as it is NOT something he likes… our house in Kansas as 4 bathrooms) At night, our kids go to bed in the loft at 7:30 so there really isn’t anywhere for Adam and I to sit and be together for a few hours before bed without the possibility of waking the kids. There is no dresser or real closet for us to put our clothes away. See, told you.. complete snob. It took us a good solid week to get knocked off our snotty asses and refocus on what the heck we are doing here.

(yes that is Jake climbing the spiral staircase and jumping onto the couch, and yes that is a corndog man as part of our lunch project…)

Now, we have been here two weeks. We put some of the owners kick knacks aside, moved the It is an absolute amazing stay and I can understand why families have lake homes to get away too. The expectations of life are different. We are supposed to eat outside on that picnic table. We are supposed to spend our nights together on camping chairs outside NOT watching TV together. We are supposed to run around barefoot in the back most of the day and move at a different speed. It is okay to only have three changes of clothes and just do laundry every other day. It is okay to not have 20 different options of lotion to buy at the town market and just get whatever brand is available. After dinner it is expected to run outside with scooters and helmets and oars and create your own game without watching the latest episode of Lucifer. It is okay to go to bed early, wake up late and enjoy your time close together, I mean isn’t that one of the reasons for this trip? There is no getting ready with hair straighteners, make up and matching clothes 🙂 Adam and I open our laptops and work on the sunroom hightops together every morning with our coffee. The kids and I bring a picnic blanket outside for school.

The adjustments of mindset have been mind blowing these last few days and honestly if Ohio didn’t get arctic wind and cold during the winter, I may want to stay here even longer. The speed of life here, the togetherness is something I had let fall by the wayside as we were so busy with the cleaning and daily routine back in Kansas, or all the other places we have lived. Even though we packed light, I feel like we could get rid of some stuff and leave here with even less, even though we have already gained so much more.

Q: How do you mentally adjust to living in a small space with kids? A: It takes about a week of genuine struggle followed by a shift that honestly changes you. The first week we noticed everything wrong — not enough forks, no dresser, loud AC units, a spiral staircase Jake hated. The second week we stopped noticing the space and started noticing each other. The expectations of life simply become different and smaller and somehow that makes everything feel bigger and better.

Q: What is it like traveling and living in Airbnbs with three kids? A: You never know exactly what you are going to get and that is both the challenge and the gift. Every space teaches you something about what you actually need versus what you have been conditioned to think you need. Spoiler — it is significantly less than you think. Three changes of clothes. Laundry every other day. No hair straightener. Turns out that is completely fine.

Q: How do you prepare kids for living in smaller spaces while traveling? A: Honestly you just go and adjust together. Kids are remarkably adaptable when the adults around them model flexibility and a positive attitude. Jake complained about the spiral staircase for approximately three days before he was using it as a launching pad to jump onto the couch. Children live in the moment in a way that adults have to consciously practice.

Q: What does slow travel actually feel like compared to regular life? A: Like someone turned the volume down on everything that was never actually important. No cleaning a 3,000 square foot house on weekends. No getting ready with full hair and makeup. No rushing between activities. Instead — barefoot afternoons, picnic blankets for school, camping chairs outside after dinner and going to bed early because you actually want to. It feels radical at first and then it just feels right.

Q: How do you know when you have too much stuff? A: When you pack light for a six week trip and after two weeks realize you could leave with even less than you brought — that is your answer. The stuff we thought we needed back home turns out to be largely maintenance of a lifestyle rather than ingredients for a happy one. This trip has been the most clarifying lesson in minimalism we have ever had.