Thursday, September 17, 2009

Vacation from a vacation

Is a vacation REALLY a vacation if your traveling with kids? I think not. Everything seems just a little be harder. Ok, let's be frank, a whole hell of lot harder. We made it to Destin without any major problems. Stopped in a tiny little town for pie. Yes, pie. A client of the Husb suggested we make the stop. There's a market it Luxey Alabama...I think that's the name and they sell awesome pies. We had lunch there which was quaint, but sucked. But the pies! Damn good pies. We only bought one and would like to stop on the way back but probably won't because of a change of travel plans. As I said before, vacationing with kids really isn't a true vacation. We have decided to suck it up and leave a day early and spend the night somewhere along the way. No since in making a 12-14 hours trip in one day. I say 12-14 hours cause...did I mention we are traveling with kids?

So we get to Destin Monday afternoon. I have been forewarned that the Husb will have to do some work while we're here. I can deal with that. Tuesday morning it rains a bit. Once that let's up, I decide that we'll go out to the beach. Just the 2 1/2 of us. Me, T and Poppy. What a beating. The entire time out there I have to watch T like a hawk so he doesn't get dragged into the deep blue yonder by the under tow. So not relaxing. And this is after hauling down an umbrella, two beach chairs, two boogie boards, a bouncy seat, three towels and a bag of crap. Today I was notified that the Husb was once again going to be working a few hours. Of course the guilt of Motherhood once again takes over. Yes, we are right on the beach. The sun has broken thru the clouds. Am I really going to let the kid watch The Incredibles one more time while I read the Twilight books? Guilt guilt guilt. I once again drag all that shit down to the beach, get set up, stick the kid in a life jacket and settle down to watch him like a hawk while now and then screaming for him to get the hell out of the water. The boy can't seem to understand..."Don't go any further than your shins." All the while pointing to his shins!!!!! 3o minutes into it, the baby is napping next to me while I hold the umbrella. (It has already turned inside out once which made me scream the "F" word and then look around to make sure no one heard me. They didn't...too damn windy to hear anything.) The kid comes up to me and announces that he thinks he has to go poopoo. Oh hell. I get the baby, and haul my butt up the stairs, wash the sand off my feet, wash the sand off the kids feet, legs and hands, put the baby in the house, and proceed to watch the kid poopoo. Lovely. T then announces he thinks he is finished with the beach. Oh hell no! Get that life jacket on before I strangle you with it! You will have fun, you will play in the waves and sand, and you'll do it til I tell you were going in. Oh the joy of vacations. So relaxing. No wonder we only do it once a year.


Chief said...

Oh this is a classic! Why do they have to move their bowels when you are sitting on a beach being a good mom? And why do we think it will be a memory making experience to go on vacation with the kids?

The only memories we make are ones of fist fights, threats of fist fights, and dreams of...well, you know

Paige said...

That brings back memories--I spent part of every summer growing up in Destin.

But it got better as we got older, and to listen to this, it probably did for the adults too!

The Grounded Drink Lady said...

My favorite parts are evening cocktails and looking at the pictures. It is totally beautiful...but man, the sand gets everywhere. Hard to remove in from every crack of a baby!