Carving out time for children while constantly on the move

THE PARENTS: Johanna Goetzel, 37, and James Rising, 41, of Passyunk Square

THE KIDS: Austin Reed, 2; Oliver Marley, born Sept. 8, 2022

TRAVEL POINTS: So far, they’ve been to 52 countries together.

The injured butterfly in the bus station in Brazil struck James as a metaphor.

Johanna was in Boston, where the two had met at a mutual friend’s birthday party, and James was thousands of miles away, traveling to the World Social Forum. They’d fallen in love over Google Chat.

“I was waiting for a bus and noticed there was a butterfly that was walking along the ground in a really weird way. It had a hole in its wing. It couldn’t fly. I realized that Jo was like that butterfly: She wanted to fly, but couldn’t. I got her some tickets to join me.”

That Brazil trip could have been a disaster: torrential downpours and lost items. But instead the pair discovered they were more-than-compatible travel companions. They complemented each other: his introversion and her gregariousness; her spontaneity and his ability to plan.

A yen for adventure, along with graduate school and work, took them to England, France, Prague, Budapest, Washington, D.C., and, finally, New York, where both pursued degrees related to climate science and sustainability.

In early 2012, James tried to propose at a stunning spot in southern Italy. “Oh, God, what’s happening?” Johanna said. Then she darted away.

“I was committed to Johanna and wanted her to know that I was in all the way,” James says. But she was equally committed to finishing their graduate educations first.

After the 2016 election, both were eager to leave the United States, and when James landed a position at the London School of Economics, it made pragmatic sense to get married.

It was an outdoor wedding on Cape Cod, with a dance James choreographed by grabbing moves from music videos, and the last big family occasion for which both their grandmothers were alive.

“When we first met, James didn’t want children — only robots he could program,” Johanna says with a laugh. “I always wanted children.”

James witnessed her ease with kids; Johanna was the person who could enter a restaurant and immediately connect with any children who were there. In the fall of 2019, she taped a pregnancy test and note to his fish tank: “New spawn coming 2020.”

“There was a moment when I couldn’t breathe,” James says. “It’s all fun and games until you realize that it’s real; it’s really going to happen. Then: OK, what’s next?” They were still living in London, and Johanna roamed the city, pursuing a craving for almond croissants. When her water broke, they happened to be walking through an Orthodox Jewish neighborhood; she hid behind a car, then took a bus to the hospital.

“Everyone had to wear masks the whole time,” she recalls. “My labor wasn’t progressing. After 38 hours, they decided to do a C-section.” In recovery, her five roommates were each speaking a different language; one French woman puffed on a postpartum cigarette.

The early days of parenthood were rocky: They worried about the baby’s weight and walked miles with him in a carrier or stroller. “I remember some nights when we were just frantic,” James says. “He was crying like he was in such horrible pain, and nothing we could do would satisfy him. It didn’t matter how you rocked or sang to him.”

When Austin was 6 months old, the couple moved to Philadelphia to be closer to family and live in a walkable city. And though they’d initially agreed to have just one child, Johanna lobbied for another, noting that siblings would be able to entertain each other.

She was pregnant after one month of trying. Once again, she craved sweets, especially those from a Vietnamese French bakery. Though they’d hoped for a girl this time, genetic testing indicated a boy, and a massage therapist confirmed that prediction with an amulet she held over Johanna’s belly.

“I did have ‘afternoon sickness’ — I threw up between 4 p.m. and 7 every day,” Johanna says. The day Oliver arrived, she had a sudden urge to stock up on groceries. That evening — with Johanna’s mother on board to care for Austin — the two drove to Pennsylvania Hospital, Johanna contracting and cringing at every red light.

She was 6 cm dilated when they arrived. “Johanna was trying to discuss her birth plan and the doctor said, ‘You’re having this baby right now. No time for an epidural.’ ”

She recalls 30 minutes of intense pushing to deliver Oliver: 7 pounds, 10 ounces, a vaginal birth after a C-section, which was what she’d wanted.

Johanna’s mother, who had booked an Airbnb for three weeks, promptly contracted COVID-19 after one day of helping them care for the kids. But they found themselves less rattled this time around.

“We’re more seasoned,” Johanna says. When a pacifier falls on the floor, she sucks on it briefly instead of sanitizing it. “If Oliver cries, it doesn’t faze us as much. What’s harder is managing Austin’s feelings about having a brother. He’ll say, ‘I hug baby,’ but it’s a little bit of a clobber-hug.”

For James, the difference between one child and two is a kind of surrender to being a parent, all the time. “There’s no longer a place for anything but family stuff when they’re both around. They demand our attention. The evenings, mornings, and weekends are kids’ time.”

They also know that children, even infants, are resilient. “When Austin was less than 3 months old, we drove to the Cotswolds in England,” Johanna says. What should have been a six-hour drive took 16 hours. And when Oliver was just a few weeks old, the family drove to Cape Cod.

“These kids will travel with us. Austin has been to London twice. Oliver has a passport. We’re going to Israel with him in December. Gotta keep moving, keep on going. The world doesn’t stop. We want our kids to be intrepid travelers and have a joy for life and adventure, like we do.”