Our littlest child Emma was two weeks old when Chris and I decided to uproot our family and embark on a trip around the world.
We'd been together almost 13 years and had frequently talked about taking a year off to travel. But the steady procession of demanding jobs, a mortgage, and the arrival of two babies had prevented us from making that dream a reality. I thought it likely that our plans would have to wait until the kids left for college or we retired.
But for whatever reason, on that cold February night in 2014, when Chris casually suggested leaving everything behind - except the kids - and driving down to the Southern-most tip of South America, I enthusiastically agreed. Chalk it up to sleep deprivation or the chaos of parenting two small children, but I was on board. In fact, I was ready to depart immediately.
Chris has always been the reasonable, cautious member of our partnership. He is extremely detail-oriented and precise, a personality trait that has served him exceptionally well as a portfolio manager at a local investment firm. He thrives on routine and predictability. This is a man who carefully rotates through each item in his closet so they all get universal wear and who sets an alarm for 9pm every night; his audible reminder that it's time to shut off his kindle and prepare for bed. Chris is a man that is not a careless risk taker.
So when he threw out his road trip suggestion, a wild and outlandish idea so foreign to his very nature, I sat up and took notice. And promptly agreed.
In truth, I needed very little convincing.