Parents Don't Take Vacations

This past weekend I took my children down to Green Harbor, Massachusetts for a beach and Boston adventure. Just a quick getaway with my parents and my cousin’s family. We rented a small house near the beach. I took my oldest to see The Wiggles at Emerson’s Colonial Theater. We built sandcastles and ran around with my cousin’s kids. Core memories and joyful summer days!

On the ride home my girls were perfect angels and I was smiling ear to ear…and then the wheels fell off.

The baby got hungry and started screaming bloody murder.

The toddler ate one too many snacks and puked all over herself literally as we pulled off the exit to our town.

Then, five miles from home, I’m right behind an absolute lunatic who was driving so erratically I had to call the police and report him.

Finally, we arrive home safely, my knuckles white. I hose down the pukey toddler. Feed the baby. And then it hits me…I’m coming down with something. Headache, body ache, stuffy nose.

I guess what they say is true. Parents don’t take vacations, only trips.

In reality, as great as our weekend away was, traveling with small kids is exhausting, expensive, and extraordinarily difficult (my arms are still sore from carrying my overtired toddler across the Boston Common). The house rental, food, gas, concert tickets, beach parking, etc. — two days away from home was now looking more comparable to a mortgage payment.

So why do we put ourselves through it? Why don’t we just stay home and in the safety of our routine? Are we just humans with unrealistic expectations? Yes, but we’re also people who will do anything to create happy family memories and childhood experiences, no matter the cost or level of effort.

I may not get to take an actual restful vacation again for a long time. I’d be lying if I said part of me didn’t miss sleeping in, late night cocktails, and reading on the beach without worrying my children have floated out to sea. Still, the “trips” we take as a family are a different kind of magic.

My daughter was MESMERIZED watching the real life Wiggles sing “Hot Potato, Hot Potato”. Will she remember this concert? Probably not, she’s only two. But I’ll never forget the look of shock and awe on her face. It was priceless.

I watched my mom hold my baby for a breezy beach contact nap. My dad spent most of the day building sandcastles with the bigger kids and jumping in the waves. This all took place on the same beach I came to every summer with my grandparents and I fondly reminisced all weekend. These things alone made the exhausting effort of hauling two kids and a giant wagon for a mere three hours of beach time totally worth it.

My kids also don’t sleep well when they’re away from home, so of course I didn’t sleep much either. But I woke up every morning with my toddler’s feet in my face and her little voice saying “hi mama!!” Again, a different kind of magic.

It was an overly expensive and exhausting weekend. I now sit here with a head cold likely caught from the child behind me at The Wiggles concert who sneezed no less than 15 times during the song “Fruit Salad, Yummy Yummy”. It was worth every penny.

-Catie