How To Leave Your Vacation in 10 Steps (Vacation Days 7/8)

Sweet Connecticut!!!!

(Aaaand, now I’m going to have This Song in my head the rest of the week.)

We are finally home after leaving Virginia Beach yesterday and coloring all over the dining room mirrors of my friend’s house where we stayed the night.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.  Here’s “how to leave your vacation” in 10 easy steps:

1: Recognize the signs that you and your children are going into vacation insanity mode caused by lack of consistent sleep and routine. (Hanging off the coffee table while watching TV…check!)  2: Plan a family photo shoot the day before you leave.  Expect to take 80 or so shots of your kids, and leave with 1 or 2 that are…well…better growling than not looking at all.

3: Assess all the things that you had once packed so carefully…breathe in… and haphazardly shove them into the nearest available suitcase. Suck it up! Now is not the time to cry over a little disorganization!!

4: Walk your kids down to the beach to say “good-bye”.  Your desire to stare longingly out over the beautiful, rippling water will be cut short by your boys running away from you.  You should probably catch them, even though they’re being punks and they can totally hear you yelling at them to come back. Ahem.

5: Start your trip carefully following your phone’s GPS and trustingly believe it when it says the “accident in the tunnel” will only cause you an 11 minute delay.  After waiting in dead standstill traffic for 5 minutes, turn around in a mostly legal way. Er.  Close enough.  (It will take you months to trust your GPS again…but with therapy you’ll make it.) Pull over to take a depressing family picture while your husband researches a new route.) 

6: Regroup at a cute little rest area complete with lawn art and a toddler sized toilet.  (Decide to use the toddler toilet because frankly the bathroom line is unnecessary.) Be careful to avoid the “wet floor” signs…they’re kind of subtle.

Step 7: After some crazy rain and flash flooding, finally make it to your overnight stay at a friend’s house.  Let the kids run amok in her home and obsess over their exotic door mail slot.  

Step 8: Take your time in the morning to properly release your family chaos all over your friend’s peaceful townhouse.  Allow your friends to cook you an amazing breakfast and drool over the delicious Croatian leftovers they generously send you home with.

Step 9: Stop about an hour away from home to grab a bit to eat.  In an irritated attempt to find your son’s shoes that he likely threw during a moment of car rage, inadvertently drop the soft cooler that’s holding your new coffee mug.  Take a moment to mourn your loss. Step 10: Power through that last hour of trip and then beam briefly at your trip odometer.  Not too shabby.  Now, quit smiling and get inside to start unpacking and dealing with the post-trip melt-downs. These are simply signs that you’re alive and made it.  

(We loved VA, but it’s good to be back CT.  For those who survived all of our mini-vacation episodes…thanks so much for sharing this adventure with us.  It’s been a blast!)

Sincerely,

~Carrye

Hiding from Vacation (Vaca Day 6)

Well CT,

Tomorrow we’ll be returning to you and I’m starting to feel it.  The “it” of swimming in anything but normal, without the floatie of routine or consistency.  I’m feeling the lack of sleep, and questioning the sanity of my decision to combine a back to back late evening of gaming with my whim to catch the 5:55am sunrise.  I’m struggling with the oddness of seeing my husband every day and not remembering the last full conversation we had because although Virginia is for lovers, family vacation is not.  (The top scintillating conversations we’ve had so far this week are: “Did you put sunscreen on the kids, or was I supposed to?” and “I think I saw a jellyfish in the water.”)  In looking through our pictures, I found an unfortunate trend.  Let’s see if you can figure it out:

(Ummm, yeah, you can ignore that last picture my son took of me pretending to be attacked by a giant lobster statue…) But the common denominator for all the OTHER pictures above is simply that my husband and I aren’t in any of the pictures together because we’re always tag-teaming kid duty.  I actually think the fine-print on all family vacation contracts stipulates that couples-only pictures are strictly prohibited, with the exception of dude ranch trips or travel to Ohio and Yemen.)

As my mom said today, vacation feels like its supposed to be a delicious mini-slice of heaven on earth, and yet we’ll always be falling a bit short of perfection.  (Even with delicious food, precious family fun, surf and java.)

And eventually something about the relaxation of vacation actually draws a renewed desire for something truly purposeful and intentional in our pre-trip lives.  With any luck we leave paradise with a piece of peace, a reminder to slow long enough to savor people over agendas, and a vision of our smallness in the midst of vast creation that gives us fresh taste of humility’s wisdom.

But I’m not sure my emotions have quite caught up to all that wisdom, so for the next few minutes I’ll just finish hiding from vacation here in the AC without the kids.  I’m like a chameleon; I’m blending so well with the wall art I bet you can’t even see me.If you can’t spot me, don’t worry.  You can catch me in person in a couple days.

~Incognito Carrye

 

 

Son of a Beach (9 Problems With Paradise: Vaca Day 4)

Don’t judge me CT….I love the ocean- really I do.  But there are just a few minor issues I have with paradise.  So I made a quick list:1. Rental coffee cups. (The one of the left.) For some reason, most of the lake-house or cottage rentals I’ve been in are stocked with coffee cups the size of thimbles.  I know we’re on vacation and everyone should be perky and happy but for. the. love.  I have three good pint-sized reasons to require heavy amounts of java regardless of the situation.  The mini-cup is “cute” in an itty bitty baby romper kind of way (aww…) but cute isn’t going to keep me awake.  So my husband picked me up a slightly larger model to try on for size.  And yes.  It is making me Awesome.

2: Beach crabs.  OK, they’re actually pretty cool and probably don’t belong on this list.  But this morning when I woke up early to catch some sunrise and read and I noticed all these little holes in the sand.Next thing  I know, I’m catching sneaky ghost crab movement out of the corner of my eye and a bunch of these little guys prairie dogging out, flinging sand.Not creepy all by itself…but I definitely got a little bit of that Hitchcock’s The Birds vibe from the whole thing.  Or maybe that scene from Jurassic Park when the tiny dinosaurs nibble that guy to his death.

3: STUPID ICE CREAM TRUCK!!!!  OK, does anyone else feel like ice cream trucks are the last legally acceptable form of child-stalking?  They started showing up at my kids’ school earlier this summer and my kids are well-aware that I’m not forking over the money.  The whole world can be at peace and then that irritating carnival music starts filtering in, hazy at first, and the kids melt faster than the ice-cream.  There’s a truck seriously patrolling our block and I’m afraid I’m going to forever have gorgeous beach scenes (like the one below from this morning) eerily tangled up with some creepy version of “It’s a Small World”.  Not cool.4: Shaving.  People, if you don’t know by now, I’m pretty low-maintenance in the beautification department.  I air-dry my hair and my shower schedule is more based around whether I wake up in time than on cleanliness.  (Now you know my shame.)  Anyway…who has time to stay beach shaved all the time?  I see all these apparently “normal” people who seem quite capable of smooth-leg upkeep…not this girl.  Hence my swim shorts and stubble-forgiving flowy bathing suit top.  Moving on before I say too much.

5: Billiards.  No, I’m not condemning billiards, you’ll have to watch Music Man for that.  I’m just saying I don’t play often…in fact, virtually only on vacation at this point. 

So when I played pool with my 6 year old today I had a whole bunch of ugly false starts.  Bad. I finally and proudly hit a ball in a pocket (kind of the idea) and that jerk of an 8-ball followed suit and fell in too.  Then my husband came to watch us and got a front row seat to my embarrassment.  Painful.

6: Photo ops.  I have a little issue with expectations.  I’m sure eventually these expectations are going to create an extensive money-making opportunity for some therapist out there.  And one of my expectations of vacations is that we document with photos. I don’t expect perfect pictures- I don’t need my kids to be matching or smudge free.  But it would be nice if everyone were looking, or heck even just angled slightly towards the camera.  And maybe if every pose wasn’t a growl or a karate chop move.  I don’t know.  Just saying. 7: Diabetes + Beach = LAME.  I won’t go into the whole dramatic sob-story of all my diabetes related fears, but let’s just say it complicates beaching.  You have to bring all this medical junk with you, and somehow I feel like I’m a bathing suit model for a hospital.  Maybe if I stuck a bow on my pump.  Eh. That and everyone and their mother is eating ice cream in front of me.  (Obviously not from the truck.)  And sometimes you just really want to gorge yourself on ice cream, but I can’t.  So I drink coffee instead.  Which only perpetuates issue #1.  8: Sand. You can really only tell your kids to “not throw sand” so many times. And its not even entirely their fault because the wind is a sneaky wingman and doesn’t leave a lot of safe places for shaking out beach toys.  But the eyes, children, for the love of all things sweet, watch out for the eyes!

9: ACDC.  Not the band, actually, I just made up a new acronym.  Air Conditioning Death Chill.  You know that amazing feeling you get when you walk out of the sweltering heat into the cool oasis bliss of an air-conditioned room?  And then, five minutes of AC later, you feel the need to check your children for frost-bite?  The back and forth hot to cold is just confusing. I packed for the beach weather, just not for the AC.

Well.  That’s all for now.  Wishing you peaceful, balmy weather as wonderful as ours here.  And maybe a little less sand?

~Carrye