Our Everyday Life Living Full-Time in an RV With a Baby
A simple winter moment outside our RV, holding space for everyday life with a baby on the road.
Some days are magical. Some days are loud, repetitive, and fueled by cold coffee. Most days fall somewhere in between. It’s on days like these—the ordinary ones—that we’re able to catch our breath and find our groove, settling into something that resembles a routine.
These are the days I wish someone had shown me before we chose this life—not the highs or the lows, but the simple in-betweens that makes us feel at home no matter where we’re parked.
The Ordinary Days of Full-Time RV Life With a Baby
Zach’s work carries us all over this beautiful country, and while we’re always keeping an eye out for the next job in a new place to scratch that itch to explore, there are seasons when his work allows us to stay put long enough to feel familiar with a place. Long enough to feel more like locals and less like passersby.
That sense of steadiness has been especially beneficial now that we have our little Banks along for the ride.
Since Banks was born, we’ve only been to two jobs—one in Middle Georgia, where he entered the world, and another in Eastern Tennessee, where we currently are. While no job is ever guaranteed to last a specific amount of time, we’ve been blessed with enough leeway to know we can sit tight here until at least this fall.
Although we’re incredibly grateful for steady income, Zach’s work demands a lot of his time, leaving Banks and me to find our rhythm together most days. During spring, summer, and fall, that often looks like mini adventures. This winter, though, we’ve wrapped ourselves in routine.
Mornings in a Small Space: Our RV Routine With a Baby
Zach leaves for work around 5:15 most mornings. Banks may or may not be awake, depending on how the night went. Some mornings, I’m lucky enough to have a little time to myself while he sleeps until 7 or 8.
Score!
Once Banks wakes up, the day is in full motion and doesn’t really slow down until Zach gets home—and even then, it can feel like a whirlwind.
Mornings are our favorite, though. Banks usually wakes up happy, playing quietly in his crib. When I go to get him, he greets me with a big smile and immediately reaches for one of the books on his shelf. Before anything else happens, we read.
Slow mornings, soft blankets, and books before anything else.
It’s a small moment, but it grounds me every morning—before emails, before chores, before the day asks anything of me.
After that, he nurses in bed while I fully wake up, and I change his diaper right there—because we don’t have a designated changing station. It just happens wherever it happens. RV life with a baby has a way of simplifying things like that.
Coffee comes next. We use instant coffee. I know—ew. But after years of not having space for a proper coffee setup, you adapt.
It’s not glamorous, but it’s warm and it’s there—and most mornings, that’s enough.
Banks plays on the floor while I sip my coffee and ease into the day. He doesn’t have many toys, but it’s just enough to keep him entertained.
Breakfast follows—always something a little different. Lately, he’s been really into oatmeal and bananas.
Nap Time and Letting the Day Unfold
After breakfast, while Banks plays, I wash dishes, prep a crockpot meal, or tidy up the impressive mess he creates while feeding himself. The messes are massive. Truly impressive.
Some days I clean it right away. Other days, I let it sit a little longer and remind myself that this is what learning looks like.
Then it’s nap time. We’ve officially transitioned to two naps a day now that he’s almost ten months old. The upside? Fewer naps mean longer ones.
Longer naps give me pockets of time to write—assuming there aren’t urgent chores calling my name. I don’t have to be silent, just mindful. Some days I clean the bathroom or make the bed. Other days I build grocery lists, do laundry (yes, I use a baby monitor while I’m in the campground laundry room), or tackle dishes.
What I do during nap time often sets the tone for how the rest of the day unfolds.
There’s no rigid schedule here. We let the day unfold instead of forcing it.
After having him, it took me a while to get comfortable with that. But motherhood has a way of teaching you when to loosen your grip.
Afternoons: Where We Sink or Swim
Once Banks wakes up, it’s game on again. If we need to run errands, we do. If it’s a nice winter day, we go for walks. We’re staying at the nicest campground we’ve ever lived in, and lake walks on a sunny 40-degree day are a must—as long as it’s not windy.
Meals are messy, repetitive, and part of the rhythm.
After walks or errands, I nurse him, and about thirty minutes later he’s ready for lunch. If we’re out, I might reach for a pouch (very rarely—I’m still scarred from learning about pouch mold), but most days I’m home preparing a fresh meal.
He’s eating most of what we eat now, which has made feeding so much easier than those early days of starting solids.
Another mess follows. Thankfully, the dogs are more than happy to help clean up whatever misses his mouth.
Oh yeah, we also have two dogs!
So in between caring for Banks, I walk them and let them play outside. On colder days, Banks plays safely in his crib while I step out. On warmer days, we all get outside together.
Afternoons are where we either sink or swim. Zach still has a few hours left at work, and I juggle caring for everyone while entertaining an almost ten-month-old.
They’re messy hours. But they’re also beautiful—full of tears, laughter, and so much love.
These are the hours that stretch me the most—and somehow end up meaning the most, too.
Evenings at Home In The Camper
Being nine hours from family means FaceTime fills some of the gaps. We call Nana, Papa Pete, Uncle Bubs, and Auntie Katelyn some days. Most days, though, it’s just the two of us—playing, relaxing, and making the most of ordinary moments.
Evenings look like this more often than not.
By the time Zach gets home around 5:30, the sun is dipping low, the dogs need another walk, Banks is waking from his nap, and I’m rushing to finish the last few tasks before toys take over the camper again.
Dinner comes next—thankfully, often from the crockpot. This camper upgrade has been a game changer for our dinner routines, if you can call them routines.
After dinner, it’s bath and bedtime routines for Banks. In the winter, we only bathe him every couple of days, though—his skin gets so dry no matter what we try.
While Zach handles bath and bedtime, I tidy up the kitchen as best as I can. Banks usually goes down around 8:30 or 9, and by then, we’re both ready for showers and rest. Instead of pushing productivity, we prioritize winding down—and hope he sleeps through the night.
Some nights we talk. Some nights we sit quietly. Both feel necessary in this season.
In this season of work, rest, repeat, we’re choosing to enjoy small moments at home instead of chasing big adventures. And while this life doesn’t look extraordinary most days, that’s exactly what makes it feel like home.
This rhythm won’t last forever. And some days, that thought feels heavy—while other days it feels like a gift.
In this season, we’re finding purpose, slowing down, rooting deeper, and raising a child in motion. If you’re wondering whether this kind of life could work for your family—stay awhile. I’ll show you the real parts too.
And if you’re new here—still getting a feel for the stories I share, you might want to start with Before You Begin.
