We FINALLY managed to squeeeeeze in a vacation before summer ended. It may have been just a weekend trip to Carlsbad and Legoland, and not the all-inclusive resort in Tahiti that I dreamed of. But, it's always revitalizing to escape the mayhem and hum-drum of everyday life, pig out non-stop, and play tourist for the day (the cool kind of tourist, of course, not the Hawaiian print and knee socks kind). I even learned a few things along the way...
1. We invited my daughter's best friend to join us. Bringing your child's friend along with you on vacation doubles your responsibility and quadruples your expense. But, the cost of having someone ELSE sit with them on the nausea-inducing rollercoasters, play endless rounds of Bop-It, and stay up until midnight watching Harry Potter on the hotel's cable? Priceless.
2. Hotel rooms are quite relaxing, except when the room is located next to the elevator, vending machines, laundry room, or is overlooking the kiddie pool. Rooms on the first floor aren't so peaceful either. The suites we stayed in were ideal - the kids had their own bedroom and their own tv, which meant no need to tip-toe around them once they'd finally fallen asleep. Nothing is more frightening than the risk of waking up a sleeping baby when you have your mind set to chill out and relax. Oh, and room service is hands-down the greatest invention ever. I seriously need my own personal cook and live-in maid. Until then, guess I'll just use the ones at the hotels.
3. Fantastic things happen when you least expect it. We have NEVER gone to an amusement park on a weekend, because mama doesn't have the patience for standing in a 30 minute line, for a 1 minute ride. At Legoland, we decided to invest in Fast-Passes for the girls, allowing them to go straight on the rides without waiting in line. Of course, this is an additional charge, and a hefty one at that - VIP treatment does not come cheap, honey. But, that's how much I hate lines. So, we go over to guest services, tell the clerk we need passes so we can go to the head of the line, and attempt to give the clerk the credit card. Hand extended, credit card visible, let's close this deal and feel like celebrities with our special wristbands. "You guys are good. Have fun." I felt like that woman on the Ikea commercial: "Start the car! Start the car!" Don't know why he wouldn't take the card, but I wasn't stupid enough to stand there and ask questions. Passes to the front of the line are certainly an unexpected gift from the vacation gods.
4. My husband and all of his 200+ pounds, stepped directly on my toe as we were walking to the aquarium. I screamed. It bled. And everyone thought I was overreacting, probably because I started limping severely and using the stroller as a crutch. Well, four days later, my toe was still swollen, throbbing, and bubbling when I poured on the hydrogen-peroxide. So there, I WASN'T exaggerating. I probably should've gone to the hospital and gotten an IV or surgery or something. I have now committed myself to only wearing closed-toe shoes when going to an amusement park. Especially when walking close to clumsy people who shall remain nameless. Oops, I guess I already identified him.
5. The baby slept most of the drive back home. In fact, the entire car slept on the ride home. The perfect ending to the vacation. I now vow to only take road trips during the baby's nap time. A quiet car makes for a happy, sane mother. Maybe singing the off-key version of "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall" is your idea of fun driving time, but I would rather walk the 200 miles than be stuck in that moving torture chamber. Plus, the song is probably not age-appropriate. And I don't want to play "who can spot the most fire hydrants" either.
6. There's just nothing like sleeping in your own bed, with the bug mites that you know and love (please remind me to turn the channel the next time "20/20" airs an investigation of hotel bed bugs), and not having to squat over a toilet. Vacations are necessary for your sanity and rejuvenating to your spirit and your marriage. But, there truly is "no place like home." Thanks Dorothy and Toto, for the reminder.
