Travelling + Being a parent

People romanticize travel like it’s some dreamy montage of airports, hotels, new cities, and “living the life.” But when you have kids—five kids, to be exact—travel stops being glamorous real quick. For us, travel started back in 2020 when my youngest was almost three, and honestly? It hasn’t really stopped since. Most families take a vacation once or twice a year; we somehow built a life where suitcases never get fully unpacked, passports live permanently in our backpacks, and every month we are figuring out what’s next. And sure, there are cool moments. There are memories we’d never have if our life looked “normal.” But nobody warns you about the part where traveling without your kids creates a version of parenting that looks nothing like what people imagine.

People hear “touring all summer” or “trade show season” and picture adventure, momentum, and opportunity. And yes—it’s absolutely all of those things. But it’s also the reality of hugging your kids goodbye for weeks or months at a time, missing birthdays and school events, and knowing that life at home keeps moving whether you’re there to see it or not. Even though our tours, trade shows, and appearances are all within North America, the distance still feels huge. You’re working, creating, and building something meaningful, but a part of your mind is always anchored at home. You think about the routines you usually run, the conversations you’re missing, and all the little things only a parent really notices.

And when you are home? It’s not the “rest and reset” people assume it must be. It’s catching up on everything that piled up while you were away. Laundry, meals, school updates, appointments, schedules, and the hundreds of small decisions that keep a household running. The stress doesn’t disappear just because you’ve crossed a border back into your own driveway—it just shifts from work mode to home mode. Running a household from the road becomes a full-time side job: coordinating schedules through spotty service, FaceTiming during the only hour that overlaps, helping with homework between commitments, and managing life from hotel rooms and highways. It’s a juggling act that no one trains you for.

With five kids, there’s always someone who needs something—support, structure, attention, reassurance—and when you’re away, you feel every single missed moment a little differently. Not in a dramatic or guilt-heavy way, just in an honest, “this is the reality of our lifestyle” way. You parent from a distance, you stay involved however you can, and you remind yourself constantly that you’re doing this for your family, even if it means being physically away from them more than you’d like. It’s a strange balance: loving the work and the opportunities, while knowing there’s always a version of home you’re temporarily stepping out of.

Traveling without your kids isn’t glamorous, and it isn’t terrible—it’s just real. It’s beautiful, messy, fulfilling, overwhelming, and meaningful all at once. It’s the constant back-and-forth between showing your kids what hard work looks like and wishing you could bottle every moment you miss. People see the photos, the projects, the places, the highlight reel. But the truth is simpler: traveling without your kids comes with its own weight, its own sacrifices, and its own rewards. At the end of the day, no trip, no tour, no project compares to walking back through your front door and hearing five voices yelling for you all at once.

And honestly, even with the challenges, I know we’re giving our kids a life I never imagined for myself. They’re growing up with experiences, opportunities, and perspectives I didn’t have—and that makes all of this worth it. We’re lucky, and I don’t take that for granted for a second.

-Samantha

FROM LABOURER TO FULL-TIME CONTENT CREATOR (A STORY I DID NOT SEE COMING)

If you told me a year ago that I’d be writing a blog post for a media company, I would’ve laughed, brushed the sawdust off my shirt, and asked if you were feeling okay. Because up until recently, my entire life was job sites, lumber, labour, tools I’m still surprised I survived using, long days, and constantly asking, “What’s next?” every five minutes. I was a labourer. That was my lane — safe, predictable, sweaty, familiar. And then everything changed.

How I Got Here (Accidentally, On Purpose)

I started with Wood Bully doing the most basic labour work: hauling materials, helping on builds, being the extra set of hands, saying yes to everything because that’s what you do when you’re learning. Then one day, someone handed me a camera — probably because they just needed someone to grab a couple shots. But “grab a couple shots” turned into “Can you film this?” which turned into “Can you film that?” which turned into “Okay, you’re actually pretty good at this,” and eventually, “Congratulations, you’re full time now.” I went from labourer to content creator faster than I could figure out how to turn airplane mode off.

What I Do Now

If you ask me what my job is today, the honest answer is: everything. I film, edit, learn new gear, travel, shoot thumbnails, record audio, capture behind-the-scenes, stay caffeinated, try not to drop expensive equipment, and pretend I know what I’m doing until I actually do. And I love it. Even when it’s overwhelming. Even when I’m exhausted. Even when my camera battery dies at the worst possible moment (which is always).

Travelling for Content — The Part I Didn’t Expect

If you’d told me I’d go from job sites to airports, I would’ve laughed again. But now I’m on the road constantly — filming tours, competitions, contractors, events, brands… everything. I’ve learned how to sleep sitting up, how to carry gear through a terminal like it’s a newborn, how to film in 100-degree heat, how to film in weather that makes me question all my life choices, how to work in hotels that were definitely decorated in 1993, and how to keep up with Gordon and Chuck (which is nearly impossible). Filming in new places is wild. Filming while trying not to get in the way is even wilder. But it’s the best part of the job.

Editing: The Part No One Sees

People see the final videos, not the late nights, the endless timelines, the hours trimming clips, the “Where’s that file?” panic, or the colour correction marathons. They don’t see the audio chaos, the re-edits, the re-re-edits, or the existential crisis when something exports weird. Editing is where everything comes together — where I get to help tell the story. That part hooked me. I went from building decks to building videos, and honestly, it feels like the thing I was meant to do.

What It’s Like Working With The Crew

Working with Bully Media feels like jumping onto a moving train — fast, chaotic, hilarious, unpredictable, and somehow the best decision I’ve ever made. Gord pushes me creatively, Chuck keeps things fun, Samantha keeps us alive and organized, the team keeps growing, and I’m learning nonstop. It’s the kind of environment where you grow because you have no choice but to grow — in the best way possible.

Who I Am Today

I’m still @camerononsite — that part hasn’t changed. But now I make content, tell stories, travel, edit, work with incredible brands, film builds people actually care about, and I’m part of a full-blown media team. I went from swinging a hammer to holding a camera, and somehow it feels like the most natural transition ever.

Where I’m Going Next

Honestly? I’m not totally sure. But I know it’s going to be good. More filming. More travelling. More learning. More storytelling. More growing with the Bully Media team. More stepping into this new version of my life. Whatever comes next, I’m ready for it.

— Cameron (@camerononsite)