• I love the fall, and every year, my family and I visit the Catskill Mountains.
• To make the most of the trip, my two sons usually take a day or two off school.
• However, missing the time sometimes causes stress, and I wish they had personal days.

Fall is my favorite time of year, and it just so happens that our most loved destination — the Catskill Mountains — is breathtaking in October. When we first started our Catskill family getaways in 2020, we went in the summer when the landscape was lush and green. We've been there in winter to witness snow-covered mountains and in spring, when the ground is thawing. However, my favorite time to visit is during peak foliage in autumn. I refuse to miss the colorful mountainscape simply because my kids don't get a fall break.

But taking a couple of days off is not as simple as it should be.

Making up the work can be daunting

This year, my boys are in middle and high school, and we wanted to take two days off school to extend a weekend; however, a hefty workload left them uneasy about missing more than one day. I encouraged them to ask their teachers for work ahead of time so they wouldn't be scrambling to catch up later, but most teachers didn't have lesson plans completed in advance.

While away, they logged in to their school program in between activities to complete some work remotely. When we returned home on Sunday, they finished some lingering assignments, but they weren't completely caught up from the one missed school day until later that week.

My 15-year-old is less fazed by having to complete makeup work. A day away from school doesn't stress him all that much. But my 12-year-old reminds me of myself when I was a student; he worries about the work until it's completed. I wish we could escape for a day or two without the stress of math worksheets and language arts passages looming over his head. Kids deserve a few days away from school each year, no questions asked.

There's value in spending time with family

This year, again, we escaped to a fall wonderland that my children will never forget. We took a short walk to an overlook to see the foliage from above, visited the Sundown Wild Forest where a yellow canopy covered Peekamoose Blue Hole, and continued our yearly tradition of visiting the Bethel Woods Center for their Peace, Love and Pumpkins festival after dark.

The next day, we took a ski lift to the top of Hunter Mountain to admire the fall views from another vantage point. At night, we spent time around the fire pit listening to water rush over rocks in the nearby stream. We had family meals together at restaurants and a night in, cooking at our cabin in the woods. It was a cozy experience that no school day will ever provide.

Giving kids personal days would make much-needed family getaways more accessible

Our school district — in compliance with state laws — focuses heavily on attendance. They communicate their strict attendance expectations during orientations, back-to-school night, and via email. In fact, in the past, when we were unaware that a doctor's note was required for sick days, our kids accrued the 10 allowable guardian-reported absences, and then, alarmingly, a truancy note arrived in our mailbox.

But what if kids were given personal days? What if they could take a few days off each year without having to make up all the work? We should recognize that resetting in nature is self-care. Spending time with family in the great outdoors should be encouraged.

I want them to be able to escape stress-free

Many companies provide their employees with a few personal days each year. We recognize that situations arise — aside from illness — that may require someone to take a day or two off. Why do we fail to provide the same for our kids? With the growing demands and complexity of childhood today, they may need it even more than we do.

Our fall visits to the Catskills are perfection, and they will always be worth a day or two away from school. But I wish we could escape completely, free from quizzes, book reports, and math worksheets. Perhaps one day sneaking to the mountains will be stress-free just as it should have been all along.

• Last summer, Erin Levi left Connecticut and moved to Montreal on her own.
• She barely knew anyone in the city, and relocating at 42 gave her a panic attack.
• Moving to a new city while working for herself was hard, but it made her feel brave.

Last summer, I left my life in Connecticut behind and moved to Montreal on a whim, without a plan.

People told me I was brave.

Really? I'm a travel journalist. I've followed a snow leopard expert across Nepal; I've lived with a family in Uzbekistan who didn't speak English; and I've had a private encounter with the King of Bhutan.

Montreal is only a 6-hour drive from my hometown in Connecticut. It didn't seem brave to me. It seemed, frankly, safe.

Yet moving here at 42 gave me a panic attack. I hadn't been to Canada in more than 12 years and barely knew anyone.

After my parents dropped me off, we spent a few days exploring my new city together, where it's easy to get by without a car — it felt like the start of another semester abroad. Except this time, I was older and had no plans to leave.

The last time I'd been in Montréal with my parents was in the summer of 2003, before I left for a semester abroad in Hanoi. I had my first pho in Montréal's Chinatown.

So why Montreal?

A Facebook post on a full moon in May changed my life.

My lease in Ridgefield, Connecticut, was up. So was my relationship. My landlord wanted an extra $500 a month for the lofty, 1,100-square-foot, one-bedroom apartment in the woods that I had been sharing with my now-ex. That would bring the rent to $3,250 a month, not including utilities, which often reached $700 during the winter because of the high ceilings.

I saw all of this as signs to leave.

But I was about to write a check for $5,985 upfront for a $1,995-a-month, 900-square-foot, one-bedroom duplex nearby and buy a car.

Then a Canadian friend shared that her 638-square-foot, one-bedroom apartment near Montréal's Little Italy was available for 6 months at a writer-friendly rent: 1,100 Canadian dollars, or about $775 a month, including utilities, WiFi, furniture, and a beautiful patio. My friend is a professor and works abroad for half the year.

Ever since my first job at Tourisme Québec's New York office — the role that ultimately launched my travel-writing career — I'd wanted to live in Montreal. I also speak French. It seemed like a no-brainer, so I said "oui."

I found out that Americans can spend up to 6 months in Canada per visit. However, anyone who spends more than 183 days in the country in a calendar year may have to pay taxes. Foreign media workers like me also don't require a work permit. I consulted an immigration lawyer about staying in Canada.

My new life in Canada

Since moving, I've learned to row. I take weekly lessons at the Olympic Basin, where beginner courses cost CA$200 each. Gliding hundreds of meters solo in a scull has been one of the best antidotes to my anxiety. Socially, though, I should've joined the dragon boat team.

My neighborhood, La Petite-Patrie, is home to some of the city's top restaurants, including Vin Mon Lapin, Pasta Pooks, and Limbo. And Marché Jean-Talon — the largest open-air market north of Mexico — is my local grocer.

Some cultural highlights have included celebrating Jewish holidays at Leonard Cohen's shul, attending my first F1 race, cross-country skiing in Parc du Mont-Royal, and going to a hockey game solo.

Sure, there's been loneliness. There's been longing. It's not easy moving to a new city when you work for yourself. Nor is it easy being more than 10 minutes from my parents — and their delicious cooking. But I've also made new friends, hosted old friends, and opened my heart.

Brave, eh? Perhaps I really am.