Vacation Envy
My husband and I haven’t been on a legit vacation since our honeymoon ten years ago. We went to a gorgeous beach resort that included sleeping in, drinking, spa dates and napping on the beach in our mac daddy cabana. Bottomless frozen drinks, anyone? We were so happy to ditch the wedding stress. Looking back, we were such simpletons; we had no clue what stress was. Wedding planning is an elementary task in comparison to parenting.
I don’t think it’s possible to have a real vacation with young kids. You’re constantly moving and always in a state of high alert. It’s usually around spring break that I experience vacation envy. I see all my friends’ gorgeous pictures of luxury vacations where they look so relaxed and happy. Our kiddos are 5, 9 and 17. Being relaxed and happy is a foreign concept to us.
Our first family vacation four years ago was a disaster. My stepson was with us that summer, and we stuffed the poor kid into the back seat with his two little sisters and half our home’s contents for a 10-hour road trip. From the moment we left the driveway there was fighting: “Dario’s knee is touching me!” “Ella’s video is too loud!” “Tell Adriana to stop singing!” Et cetera, et cetera. We had plans to drive straight to South Carolina, but in the interest of preserving our sanity, we stopped halfway and stayed the night in a hotel. I was hopeful that once we got to Pawley’s Island, things would be fine. We stayed in our family’s condo, so it was economical.
The only cost was our metal health.
Mimi’s condo was not toddler proof, and I lived in fear for a week that precious mementos would be destroyed. The planned entertainment was the beach. To our surprise, the kids didn’t want to be out there all day, every day, and they grew bored quickly. Adriana was terrified and refused to go into the water. (I never should have allowed her to watch Shark Week.) She was also a few months shy of the terrible twos, and this summer was her reign of terror. We tried to experience fun activities and nice restaurants, but it always ended with Adriana being carried out in a football hold.
Once we got home, our nerves were shot and we needed a vacation from our vacation. As my hubby unpacked the car, I drew a bath for the girls. I was getting the tub ready and heard Ella scream and then burst into laughter. Adriana had pooped on my favorite piece of furniture, the stark white ottoman that accompanied the rocking chair in her nursery. How in the world did she do that? The ottoman is a rocker too! It was the most perfectly shaped pile of poo — it looked exactly like the emoji. This seemed to be a symbolic gesture, like she just took a dump on our crappy road trip.
Since then its gotten a little easier. We started vacationing with my best friend and her family, so the kids would have friends to play with and we could enjoy some adult conversation. This is a strategy I highly recommend. We have decided to stick to the beaches on the east coast that are a tolerable driving distance and hope for the best.
We are better prepared now and leave at the crack of dawn so the kids sleep most of the way. I abandoned the arts and crafts road trip box of yesteryear and allow them to have their iPads, headphones and a hot spot. If we are lucky the drive is pleasant and quiet.
When I sit down to map out our vacation plans I am always paralyzed by high expectations and indecision. I have come to accept that my fantasy vacation of snorkeling in Hawaii and swimming with dolphins will have to wait until the girls get older. I have taken the pressure off myself to try and plan an action-packed, memory-filled getaway. In an effort to have an enjoyable summer, my theme is casual and low maintenance.
Hawaii, I will see you in 2023!