I took my four kids on a three-week trip around Europe — never again

Last summer I planned what I thought would be an epic adventure: an amazing trip with my husband and four kids for my 50th birthday. My sister and her family joined, and then my brother and my mom, too. We planned to start in Spain, travel up through France, and end in England — twenty days of family time, tapas, baguettes, Sancerre and Rioja.

The trip started out well enough. We flew to Madrid and everyone got to choose an activity; my daughter picked the Reina Sofía and we all loved it. I forced the 12 of us to go to a flamenco show that turned out to be marvelous, and we took a train north to lounge at the beach, watching surfers and giggling at the casual European nudity.

Still, my 19-year-old was grumpy about tight quarters and my 15-year-old preferred TikTok in the hotel room — early warning signs I should have noticed. By the time we reached Paris, just one week in, spirits were flagging. Breakfast at the French bakery was just my mom and me; everyone else slept in.

Spain, France, England, Madrid, Paris

family trip, europe, spain, france, england, madrid, paris, flamenco, reina sofía, tapas