January 28, 2006.
Vacation with children, should be called something else, it is not really a vacation. Don’t get me wrong, getting out of town, relaxing by the pool, eating out, a foofy drink at 2:00 p.m. on a Tuesday-it’s all good. However, it is not a real vacation in the truest form.
I am on a flight now with my 6 ½ year old and my 3 ½ year old and I have become my mother. As I clench my teeth together and growl, “No one is allowed to speak-stop talking!”
There have been tears, physical fights, and emergency trips to the bathroom, spilled drinks, runny noses, coughs and tantrums…mostly by the adults.
Things I won’t miss about going on vacation with children
- Chicken and French fries, so many French fries….
- Fighting over who gets to push the elevator buttons
- Fighting over who gets to open the door
- Fighting over who is the leader-I must remind them that I AM THE LEADER
- Shirley temples with every meal
- Deep sea diving for a ball in the deep end of the pool, only to have no one play with it for the rest of our vacation.
- Replacing Leapster batteries with tweezers on the airplane
- Paying over $10.00 for a foofy drink with an umbrella and only a splash of booze (don’t they know I am on vacation?)
- Dragging 10 pounds of sand toys, life vests, sun tan lotion, hats and glasses to the pool
Okay, just so I don’t sound like a total Debbie Downer, the trip was fun. We had a blast, as long as we stayed in the pool. My husband was in the pool so long the bottom of his feet look like they were shredded by a paper shredder. We even got a night out alone. The kids had a wonderful time; we slept in and enjoyed each others company.
But please-don’t call it vacation, it is all together a horse of a different color when you travel with children-it just is.