Back in the Spring, before my torn meniscus and knee surgery and before Londo's back started acting up, I declared to Londo that we were going to be a Family That Travels. Sure, we've always been a family that travels (minus the first 18 months of the Pumpkin's life when she screamed bloody murder when in the car and carseat for more than 5 minutes). But we were now going to be a Family That Travels!
My parents bought a beach house about 3 hours from our house, and I planned to go almost every weekend from May to September! I would go with Londo and kids, by myself with both kids, with one kid or even by myself. When the kids went on summer break, we would take some of the vacation time to go to the beach and to my inlaws and camping and visiting friends! We were going to be so good at traveling as a family, that we'd be ready to hit Europe next summer (if only we could afford it)! Our bags would be halfway packed at all times, our cars ready to go, our mindsets open for whatever comes up. We'd be ready to go anywhere at the drop of a hat!
In fact, we started this new paradigm one weekend in May, when on a Thursday we decided to go to visit my inlaws (a 5 hour drive with no stops--so about 7 hours with two kids). We just packed up and went, and we had a great time... until I killed my knee while hiking up a hill. A hiatus on the traveling was forced upon me.
It's been a hard month and a half with me laid up recovering and Londo limited. But finally, finally!, we are starting to get into the swing of being a Family That Travels!
Two weekends ago, I took the Pumpkin with me to visit a friend. We handled a very (VERY!) difficult car ride up quite well. This past weekend, I took both kids with me to my parents beach house, and we had a great trip! Plus my brother and his family were there until Saturday, and my parents were there the whole weekend. We've got some good plans for the upcoming weekends and weeks while the kids are out of school. Not all of them are travel weekends, but we are going to be flexible in deciding when we stay and when we go. And when we go? No problemo! Because we are a Family That Travels.
There was a time period in my life when I thought I'd become a travel writer, even going to grad school for journalism, concentrating in magazine writing. That was not the road I ended up on, but I still love to read travel stories and I love to write about my travels. In fact, I hope to write more with my new outlook on travel with a husband and kids. Until I'm able to get some travel under my belt in my Family That Travels, I am enjoying reading travel stories about other families. Currently, I'm reading Family Travels: The Farther You Go, the Closer You Get, short stories by my favorite travel guide series, Travelers' Tales Guides. I have A Mother's World: Journeys of the Heart waiting to be read next!
I'm inspired by what I am reading about other families and their travels, far and wide. I know that it can be difficult to travel with kids. But I'm hoping with the right mindsets and the decree that we are a Family That Travels, we will take the difficulties in stride and really focus on the fun things we can do and see as we travel. I know that it is possible, because I grew up in a Family That Travels. Oh, the stories I could tell you...
Monday, July 18, 2011
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
When You've Had a Runner
Last weekend, my daughter and I had a girls road trip! We went up to visit a friend of mine (MommyEm) about 4 hours away (with no stops, traffic or GPS giving bad directions--in other words way longer than a 4 hour drive). Her oldest is 4, just 3 months older than the Pumpkin, and her youngest is 1. We had a really great visit, and the girls got along pretty well, after a transition and warm-up period.
Most importantly, I had a great time hanging out with one of my best friends.
We spent a lot of time talking about our kids, who have some similar "spirited" traits. But they also have some very key differences. As do our parenting styles. But we support each other and don't judge each other. We know that kids can be difficult, and parenting is hard. Most importantly, there are a million "right" ways to do things, both as a child and a parent.
There were a few things that we had different limits about that got me thinking. Specifically, there are three times I'm thinking of:
1. When the girls were running around outside playing tag with another girl and my daughter went running off, I told her to freeze and come back. I hadn't been outside the whole time, so I checked in with my friend. She said that she lets the girls run all the way up to a spot that was WAY out of my comfort zone. So we modified it so that the girls stayed closer.
2. When we were walking from the car to the pool (where we had a fantastic time!), I told my girl not to run on the sidewalk. When we were leaving, I had no problem let the Pumpkin run down the grassy hill, which ended in a flat green area.
3. When going to and from the car in any parking lot, as well as crossing all streets, the rule is that the Pumpkin has to hold an adult's hand. (Although I do let the Pumpkin hold only the Pookie's hand as long as I'm holding the Pookie's other hand and I'm sure she won't let go of his hand.) Even going from a curb to the car door when there is no chance that the car next to us is going to move.
For one of these (or maybe more, I can't exactly recall), my friend asked why I was or wasn't okay with what was happening. I tried to figure it out, but what I said didn't feel right. I don't even remember what it was. But it certainly got me thinking.
But as I insisted on holding my 4 year old's hand the few feet to her car door, I realized what the difference probably was*. I turned to my friend and asked her, "Was your daughter a runner?"
My friend said that she wasn't. Her daughter would never have run off or into anything that might be dangerous.
My daughter meanwhile? Well, just image what a toddler with advanced gross motor skills, no sense of danger and who loved to run would be like. My daughter? She was a Runner. Before you could blink, she would be running straight for a street, a steep hill or whichever way you didn't want her to go.
I told my friend the story of when I was really pregnant with the Pookie one Easter and Londo got sick and couldn't go with us on the egg hunt in my parents' yard. As we walked outside, I enlisted my brother in law's help to chase after her when (not if) she started running off. Sure enough, we were in the un-fenced part of the yard for under a minute when she started running off. She's was a Runner.
Because she loves to run so much, I have created room for her to run, within limits. After the Pookie was born, I would let her run as I was getting all my stuff (and the Pookie when he started daycare) into the car. I gave her limits on where she could run to, when she could start (no cars could be moving anywhere on our street) and when she had to stop (if I say "freeze" she has to stop right away). For the first week or so, I ran with her, and then I watched her like a hawk, and finally relaxed a bit when I was sure she would stay within the boundaries I gave her.
But there are still too many scenarios that are just too dangerous in case she randomly bolts. And I have memories of a couple times when I nearly had a heart attack because she ran in an unsafe situation. So I will likely continue holding her hand on any asphalt, and I will still put careful limits on where she can run around, and I will worry about her running too close to the street.
Having had a runner, I have been irrevocably changed. It has become ingrained to worry about my child near a road or in a store or near a steep hill with a busy road at the bottom. I'm not sure those who haven't had runners will fully understand, and they might wonder why I still hold my child's hand crossing a deserted street. They might wonder why I yell "freeze" when my child is just playing tag with friends. Some might think I'm over-protective or a helicopter parent. (Again, this does not reflect my friend, just thoughts I've had over the years.)
But if you ever had the constant fear that your child might run off into a busy street with no warning, so fast you weren't sure you could catch them in time, and with so little thought about serious consequences... well, you probably are still holding your kids' hands, too.
*To be honest, I have no idea of other 4 year olds have to hold their parents' hands whenever they are on asphalt. I didn't pay attention to whether or not my friend had the same rule with her 4 year old. But I'm pretty sure I've seen other 4 year olds at my kids' school go in and out of cars and even cross the street without holding an adult's hand.
Most importantly, I had a great time hanging out with one of my best friends.
We spent a lot of time talking about our kids, who have some similar "spirited" traits. But they also have some very key differences. As do our parenting styles. But we support each other and don't judge each other. We know that kids can be difficult, and parenting is hard. Most importantly, there are a million "right" ways to do things, both as a child and a parent.
There were a few things that we had different limits about that got me thinking. Specifically, there are three times I'm thinking of:
1. When the girls were running around outside playing tag with another girl and my daughter went running off, I told her to freeze and come back. I hadn't been outside the whole time, so I checked in with my friend. She said that she lets the girls run all the way up to a spot that was WAY out of my comfort zone. So we modified it so that the girls stayed closer.
2. When we were walking from the car to the pool (where we had a fantastic time!), I told my girl not to run on the sidewalk. When we were leaving, I had no problem let the Pumpkin run down the grassy hill, which ended in a flat green area.
3. When going to and from the car in any parking lot, as well as crossing all streets, the rule is that the Pumpkin has to hold an adult's hand. (Although I do let the Pumpkin hold only the Pookie's hand as long as I'm holding the Pookie's other hand and I'm sure she won't let go of his hand.) Even going from a curb to the car door when there is no chance that the car next to us is going to move.
For one of these (or maybe more, I can't exactly recall), my friend asked why I was or wasn't okay with what was happening. I tried to figure it out, but what I said didn't feel right. I don't even remember what it was. But it certainly got me thinking.
But as I insisted on holding my 4 year old's hand the few feet to her car door, I realized what the difference probably was*. I turned to my friend and asked her, "Was your daughter a runner?"
My friend said that she wasn't. Her daughter would never have run off or into anything that might be dangerous.
My daughter meanwhile? Well, just image what a toddler with advanced gross motor skills, no sense of danger and who loved to run would be like. My daughter? She was a Runner. Before you could blink, she would be running straight for a street, a steep hill or whichever way you didn't want her to go.
I told my friend the story of when I was really pregnant with the Pookie one Easter and Londo got sick and couldn't go with us on the egg hunt in my parents' yard. As we walked outside, I enlisted my brother in law's help to chase after her when (not if) she started running off. Sure enough, we were in the un-fenced part of the yard for under a minute when she started running off. She's was a Runner.
Because she loves to run so much, I have created room for her to run, within limits. After the Pookie was born, I would let her run as I was getting all my stuff (and the Pookie when he started daycare) into the car. I gave her limits on where she could run to, when she could start (no cars could be moving anywhere on our street) and when she had to stop (if I say "freeze" she has to stop right away). For the first week or so, I ran with her, and then I watched her like a hawk, and finally relaxed a bit when I was sure she would stay within the boundaries I gave her.
But there are still too many scenarios that are just too dangerous in case she randomly bolts. And I have memories of a couple times when I nearly had a heart attack because she ran in an unsafe situation. So I will likely continue holding her hand on any asphalt, and I will still put careful limits on where she can run around, and I will worry about her running too close to the street.
Having had a runner, I have been irrevocably changed. It has become ingrained to worry about my child near a road or in a store or near a steep hill with a busy road at the bottom. I'm not sure those who haven't had runners will fully understand, and they might wonder why I still hold my child's hand crossing a deserted street. They might wonder why I yell "freeze" when my child is just playing tag with friends. Some might think I'm over-protective or a helicopter parent. (Again, this does not reflect my friend, just thoughts I've had over the years.)
But if you ever had the constant fear that your child might run off into a busy street with no warning, so fast you weren't sure you could catch them in time, and with so little thought about serious consequences... well, you probably are still holding your kids' hands, too.
*To be honest, I have no idea of other 4 year olds have to hold their parents' hands whenever they are on asphalt. I didn't pay attention to whether or not my friend had the same rule with her 4 year old. But I'm pretty sure I've seen other 4 year olds at my kids' school go in and out of cars and even cross the street without holding an adult's hand.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Question of the Week - Teaching by Example
This morning was I was on my own with the kids for the first morning since having knee surgery. Londo did get the Pookie out of his crib and watched him until he had to leave for work, letting me (and the Pumpkin who was in bed with me, of course) sleep as long as possible. Which was very helpful, considering I stayed up way to late last night because someone was wrong on the internet! (Love that pic, and thanks to @Cloud for linking to it in one of her posts.)
But I did stay up too late, and I was sore from the previous day, which was my first day back in the office including driving myself around. I was trying not to be grumpy, but I was. I snapped at my daughter and started walking away over her dillydallying instead of getting ready. After about three steps (hobbles with cane!) down the hallway, I realized I wasn't reacting well. So I took a deep breath, and said out loud so my daughter could hear, "I shouldn't have yelled. That wasn't right. I shouldn't lose my patience like that. I need to try that again."
I walked back into the bathroom and explained to my girl that it was hard for me to stand so long while she was flopping around, that my knee was very sore, that I was grumpy and I lost my patience. Playfully, I said, "I need to find more patience. Where do you think some might be?" And she laughing said there was some over there, pointing to the other side of the bathroom.
I went over and got some "patience." Then I told her I wanted us both to try again. I said that I was going to keep my patience and I needed her to focus on getting ready. Then she added, "And you shouldn't yell because it makes me sad." I told her I would do my best, and that I needed her to do her best.
Next thing you know, she's ready for the day in cute pigtails, the Pookie was already in a cute t-shirt with cars, and I was ready to drop them off at school and go to my first physical therapy appointment.
I tell that part of the morning to point out the way I talk things out loud in front of my daughter. Things I want her to learn and understand and also imitate when she is feeling the same way. This is a huge part of the way I parent. And I know it helps, because she adds things like the fact that I shouldn't yell, and she does try again with me, and we generally do better when I use this parenting tactic.
As the kiddos ate breakfast, I got some last minute things. I was finally ready to start thinking about leaving the house and making sure I had everything I needed for my physical therapy appointment. Then, I thought about the time.
THE TIME! Oh, man!
Normally, I usher the kids to the front hall and the "getting ready" chairs at 8:30 so we can be in the car and leaving by 8:45 to get to their school at about 9:00. BUT this morning, my physical therapy was at 9:00. I made that appointment before I knew that Londo couldn't do drop off that day and that my mom was out of town. I had to do the morning, do the drop off and still make my 9:00 appointment, which meant I had to have kids in the car BY 8:30!
And of course, it was already 8:30. And everything was taking me slightly longer than usually because limping with a cane is slower than walking with two working legs. I started to freak out, making it very clear to the kids that I was very frustrated that I hadn't accounted for the time correctly and that I wasn't mad at them. But I was freaking out. The kids? They were awesome. They hurried, put up only a little fuss about shoes and sun block, and generally were helpful and focused. But even with that, it was 8:48 by the time I got them in the car and backed out my driveway.
I was so upset. I started crying a little bit from the stress and frustration. And do you know what my daughter said? She said, "It's okay, Mommy. You just need to calm down a bit. Try taking some deep breathes, like this... in and out, in and out." I listened to her and did what she said. Darned if she wasn't right! I DID feel better!
I thanked her, told her I did feel better and then asked for no talking for a minute while I finished calming down. I handed them the rest of their toast that they didn't have time to finish in the rush out the door. And then I was able to think and figure out what to do. I called the place, told them I would be late to the appointment, and they said it was no problem. And I felt a TON better.
I thanked my daughter and told her that because she helped me calm down, I was able to "think think think" and figure out what I needed to do, which was call the place, and they said it was no problem that I was going to be late!
This week's question of the week is:
What have you seen/heard your kid(s) do/say that reflects something you've been teaching them by example?
Unfortunately, it's not always good things we teach them by example. Nor do they always use the lessons correctly.
My son has been saying, "I mad!" all the freaking time lately. He's not always really mad, but he likes to say it. The reason we taught him this was so he'd learn the words to say he was mad and stop his foot to show how mad instead of the hitting and pushing and biting he was starting to do. So even though it was a good lesson that the Pumpkin and I showed him how to express his anger, he's now doing it just to get a reaction out of us. But, you know, he's Two.
How about your kid(s)? Have you shown them how to do something? Have you expressed your words hoping they will do the same? Does it work for you? Or are they repeating your curse words instead of the good job praises?
But I did stay up too late, and I was sore from the previous day, which was my first day back in the office including driving myself around. I was trying not to be grumpy, but I was. I snapped at my daughter and started walking away over her dillydallying instead of getting ready. After about three steps (hobbles with cane!) down the hallway, I realized I wasn't reacting well. So I took a deep breath, and said out loud so my daughter could hear, "I shouldn't have yelled. That wasn't right. I shouldn't lose my patience like that. I need to try that again."
I walked back into the bathroom and explained to my girl that it was hard for me to stand so long while she was flopping around, that my knee was very sore, that I was grumpy and I lost my patience. Playfully, I said, "I need to find more patience. Where do you think some might be?" And she laughing said there was some over there, pointing to the other side of the bathroom.
I went over and got some "patience." Then I told her I wanted us both to try again. I said that I was going to keep my patience and I needed her to focus on getting ready. Then she added, "And you shouldn't yell because it makes me sad." I told her I would do my best, and that I needed her to do her best.
Next thing you know, she's ready for the day in cute pigtails, the Pookie was already in a cute t-shirt with cars, and I was ready to drop them off at school and go to my first physical therapy appointment.
I tell that part of the morning to point out the way I talk things out loud in front of my daughter. Things I want her to learn and understand and also imitate when she is feeling the same way. This is a huge part of the way I parent. And I know it helps, because she adds things like the fact that I shouldn't yell, and she does try again with me, and we generally do better when I use this parenting tactic.
As the kiddos ate breakfast, I got some last minute things. I was finally ready to start thinking about leaving the house and making sure I had everything I needed for my physical therapy appointment. Then, I thought about the time.
THE TIME! Oh, man!
Normally, I usher the kids to the front hall and the "getting ready" chairs at 8:30 so we can be in the car and leaving by 8:45 to get to their school at about 9:00. BUT this morning, my physical therapy was at 9:00. I made that appointment before I knew that Londo couldn't do drop off that day and that my mom was out of town. I had to do the morning, do the drop off and still make my 9:00 appointment, which meant I had to have kids in the car BY 8:30!
And of course, it was already 8:30. And everything was taking me slightly longer than usually because limping with a cane is slower than walking with two working legs. I started to freak out, making it very clear to the kids that I was very frustrated that I hadn't accounted for the time correctly and that I wasn't mad at them. But I was freaking out. The kids? They were awesome. They hurried, put up only a little fuss about shoes and sun block, and generally were helpful and focused. But even with that, it was 8:48 by the time I got them in the car and backed out my driveway.
I was so upset. I started crying a little bit from the stress and frustration. And do you know what my daughter said? She said, "It's okay, Mommy. You just need to calm down a bit. Try taking some deep breathes, like this... in and out, in and out." I listened to her and did what she said. Darned if she wasn't right! I DID feel better!
I thanked her, told her I did feel better and then asked for no talking for a minute while I finished calming down. I handed them the rest of their toast that they didn't have time to finish in the rush out the door. And then I was able to think and figure out what to do. I called the place, told them I would be late to the appointment, and they said it was no problem. And I felt a TON better.
I thanked my daughter and told her that because she helped me calm down, I was able to "think think think" and figure out what I needed to do, which was call the place, and they said it was no problem that I was going to be late!
This week's question of the week is:
What have you seen/heard your kid(s) do/say that reflects something you've been teaching them by example?
Unfortunately, it's not always good things we teach them by example. Nor do they always use the lessons correctly.
My son has been saying, "I mad!" all the freaking time lately. He's not always really mad, but he likes to say it. The reason we taught him this was so he'd learn the words to say he was mad and stop his foot to show how mad instead of the hitting and pushing and biting he was starting to do. So even though it was a good lesson that the Pumpkin and I showed him how to express his anger, he's now doing it just to get a reaction out of us. But, you know, he's Two.
How about your kid(s)? Have you shown them how to do something? Have you expressed your words hoping they will do the same? Does it work for you? Or are they repeating your curse words instead of the good job praises?
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Just Say Yes, Of Course
The Pumpkin has been in a phase where instead of saying "yes" she answers "of course." Like most phases, it started out cute, but has become a problem.
At first, she just said it ocassionally. "Pumpkin, can I have a kiss?" "Of course!" It was adorable, and we would laugh. The girl loves to make people laugh. She said it in response to sweet questions, and we found it adorable.
But then she started saying it more, and it was a little frustrated. "Pumpkin, do you want milk?" "Of course!" She didn't say it all the time, but just enough to cause Londo and I to sigh. How would we know if she wanted milk? There was no "of course" about it.
I'm sure you can guess what happened next. She started saying it all the time. So much, that it has started driving us crazy. "Pumpin, are you going to do what I've been telling you to do?" "Of course!" Now, she was using it in ways that were in way "of courses." Things she was ignoring until we practically had to force her to do or answer, and we'd get "Of course!"
Finally, one day I'd had it. I responded back that it was not "of course." That "of course" was for when the answer was pretty much known, and that I had no idea that she had heard me and was going to do what I told her or that I didn't know for sure that she wanted milk. I old her that instead of answering "of course" that she should just say "yes."
She seemed to get it. And the next few times she said of course, I said, "Not of course. Just yes." And she'd say, "Oh, right. Yes." And after a few times of that, she stopped herself from saying of course and said yes instead. I noted it and praised her for remembering.
There has been a noticable difference in the last couple weeks. She really has cut way back on "of course" and mostly just answers "yes." This is how I know we are in one of those equilabrium stages, because she is making the adjust quickly, easily and without big arguments or meltdowns.
So let's hear it for the ability to modify behavoir at age 4! She listened to what I wanted, paid attention to why I wanted it, and has worked very hard to stop doing it. Do you think I can translate this ability to other areas of behavoir? Of course I'm gonna try!
At first, she just said it ocassionally. "Pumpkin, can I have a kiss?" "Of course!" It was adorable, and we would laugh. The girl loves to make people laugh. She said it in response to sweet questions, and we found it adorable.
But then she started saying it more, and it was a little frustrated. "Pumpkin, do you want milk?" "Of course!" She didn't say it all the time, but just enough to cause Londo and I to sigh. How would we know if she wanted milk? There was no "of course" about it.
I'm sure you can guess what happened next. She started saying it all the time. So much, that it has started driving us crazy. "Pumpin, are you going to do what I've been telling you to do?" "Of course!" Now, she was using it in ways that were in way "of courses." Things she was ignoring until we practically had to force her to do or answer, and we'd get "Of course!"
Finally, one day I'd had it. I responded back that it was not "of course." That "of course" was for when the answer was pretty much known, and that I had no idea that she had heard me and was going to do what I told her or that I didn't know for sure that she wanted milk. I old her that instead of answering "of course" that she should just say "yes."
She seemed to get it. And the next few times she said of course, I said, "Not of course. Just yes." And she'd say, "Oh, right. Yes." And after a few times of that, she stopped herself from saying of course and said yes instead. I noted it and praised her for remembering.
There has been a noticable difference in the last couple weeks. She really has cut way back on "of course" and mostly just answers "yes." This is how I know we are in one of those equilabrium stages, because she is making the adjust quickly, easily and without big arguments or meltdowns.
So let's hear it for the ability to modify behavoir at age 4! She listened to what I wanted, paid attention to why I wanted it, and has worked very hard to stop doing it. Do you think I can translate this ability to other areas of behavoir? Of course I'm gonna try!
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Re-Thinking This Year's Vacation
Years ago, my dad (and mom) and I (and Londo) decided to buy a timeshare at a nearby beach from a family friend. It is a duplex with a deck overlooking the 9th green of a golf course, and has 3 bedroom, 2 bath, a kitchen open to dining area and family room. We would have it for one week and the end of May/beginning of June every year. It was a good size for us and our plans to grow the family. It was a set week every year, so that my dad and I could plan on our vacations way in advance.
This worked out perfect for me and my dad. I didn't have to worry about finding a place at the beach and coordinating the week and location and price and everything else, because it was already taken care of. It had access to a parking lot right on the beach with a clubhouse that included a bathroom and cafe. It was right on the golf green, and an easy walk to the golf course's clubhouse. There were lots of amenities that both my dad and I were very happy with.
Though it wasn't a good time of year for either my mom or for Londo, my dad and I have gone every single year since we got it, except the one when I was due any day with the Pookie (my dad went with my SIL and her twins).
In fact, the fertility cycle which we got pregnant with the Pumpkin was while I was at the timeshare. I did the 2.5 drive back and forth for two appointments and gave myself shots while at the beach house. The year after having the Pumpkin, we brought her to the beach house at 3 months old--her first beach experience. A couple years we had friends and/or family stay with us with their kids.
I love the place. I love the specific time set aside to go to the beach. I love hanging out with my dad and mom. I love bringing the kids, even though it's difficult to get them to sleep and the place isn't really kid-proofed. I love that it feels like a family vacation place.
But this year, I had to re-think the family vacation I had been planning all year. I had to re-think a lot of plans I had for May and June, which my half-organized closet can attest to.
This year, there was no way I could take the kids for any of the vacation as the only parent with my torn meniscus. My parents a great help, but I literally would not have been able to do any parenting of the kids. And this was their vacation, too, and it wouldn't have been fair to ask them to watch my kids and wait on me all week.
Londo and I had a big discussion about it. The beach is not his ideal vacation, and he didn't exactly relish the idea of spending his vacation days from work chasing both kids around in the hot sun with sand getting everywhere then going back to a place that wasn't kid-proofed. He would much rather stay home with the kids, where they would continue going to school during the day so he could work and where everything was set up to meet their needs at home. But he told me I should go with my parents.
In fact, he pretty much insisted on it. Saying it would actually be easier for him, because he wouldn't have to take care of me in addition to the kids! The vacation was between the time I had the MRI and my appointment with the orthopedic surgeon, so I was free to go.
So I went. Sounds fantastic, right? Almost a full week at the beach without the kids and with my parents taking care of me!
The problem was, that was not the vacation I planned. It was not the vacation I wanted. It was not the annual family vacation that it was supposed to be. Stupid meniscus.
All I could see on the drive and at the beach and everywhere I went were the adorable kids. Moms were everywhere, and most of them seemed to have kids right around my kids' ages. As I hobbled around with my cane, I watched the kids longingly. When I was back at the house, I remembered how cute my kids were at the table there and playing in the family room. At the beach, all I could think about was how the kids played in the waves and dug in the sand the year before, and how I had envisioned taking them again this year. Heck, I even reread my own poem about it! It was tough, believe it or not.
I must admit, I did have a wonderful time. Just because it was not the vacation I planned, doesn't mean that it wasn't a good vacation. I actually spent the first couple days with two of my best friends from junior high, who also happened to be at the beach that same weekend. My parents really took wonderful care of me, making sure I didn't push myself and hurt my knee worse. Best of all? I actually got to lay down on the beach, read and worship the sun like I haven't been able to since having kids. I was even able to dig a hole just right for my knee so I could lie on my stomach.
The only reason I was even okay going without my kids and husband is because, as Londo pointed out, my parent now own a house 2 miles from a beach just a town up from the one where the timeshare is. He promised we'd take our family vacation for a week in August at my parent's house, when the kids were on summer break and my knee was healed up. After a bit of talking, I realized that this was the better plan for the family vacation.
I had thought I would go to my parent's beach house just about every weekend, from May through September. The torn meniscus changed my plans, and I've had to re-think my entire summer. I am glad that I got to go to the beach in June, and I'm looking forward to the family vacation in August.
And now my recovery from the surgery and the physical therapy I will be doing is of even more importance to me. If they go well, and quickly, I believe that my weekend plans in July will involve a lot of trips to my parent's beach house with the kids, and hopefully without Londo since goodness knows he needs and deserves a lot of time for himself as soon as I possibly can give it to him!
Originally, I had figured I would go to my parent's beach house without kids a couple of weekends in July or August. I was not ready for that time in June when I hadn't even gotten to take the kids to the beach by myself even once. I didn't need the time away from the kids I had barely been able to play with or put to bed for weeks. But that's how it worked out. Now, I can't wait to spend my weekends with my kids, at the beach and at home, with two working knees.
This worked out perfect for me and my dad. I didn't have to worry about finding a place at the beach and coordinating the week and location and price and everything else, because it was already taken care of. It had access to a parking lot right on the beach with a clubhouse that included a bathroom and cafe. It was right on the golf green, and an easy walk to the golf course's clubhouse. There were lots of amenities that both my dad and I were very happy with.
Though it wasn't a good time of year for either my mom or for Londo, my dad and I have gone every single year since we got it, except the one when I was due any day with the Pookie (my dad went with my SIL and her twins).
In fact, the fertility cycle which we got pregnant with the Pumpkin was while I was at the timeshare. I did the 2.5 drive back and forth for two appointments and gave myself shots while at the beach house. The year after having the Pumpkin, we brought her to the beach house at 3 months old--her first beach experience. A couple years we had friends and/or family stay with us with their kids.
I love the place. I love the specific time set aside to go to the beach. I love hanging out with my dad and mom. I love bringing the kids, even though it's difficult to get them to sleep and the place isn't really kid-proofed. I love that it feels like a family vacation place.
But this year, I had to re-think the family vacation I had been planning all year. I had to re-think a lot of plans I had for May and June, which my half-organized closet can attest to.
This year, there was no way I could take the kids for any of the vacation as the only parent with my torn meniscus. My parents a great help, but I literally would not have been able to do any parenting of the kids. And this was their vacation, too, and it wouldn't have been fair to ask them to watch my kids and wait on me all week.
Londo and I had a big discussion about it. The beach is not his ideal vacation, and he didn't exactly relish the idea of spending his vacation days from work chasing both kids around in the hot sun with sand getting everywhere then going back to a place that wasn't kid-proofed. He would much rather stay home with the kids, where they would continue going to school during the day so he could work and where everything was set up to meet their needs at home. But he told me I should go with my parents.
In fact, he pretty much insisted on it. Saying it would actually be easier for him, because he wouldn't have to take care of me in addition to the kids! The vacation was between the time I had the MRI and my appointment with the orthopedic surgeon, so I was free to go.
So I went. Sounds fantastic, right? Almost a full week at the beach without the kids and with my parents taking care of me!
The problem was, that was not the vacation I planned. It was not the vacation I wanted. It was not the annual family vacation that it was supposed to be. Stupid meniscus.
All I could see on the drive and at the beach and everywhere I went were the adorable kids. Moms were everywhere, and most of them seemed to have kids right around my kids' ages. As I hobbled around with my cane, I watched the kids longingly. When I was back at the house, I remembered how cute my kids were at the table there and playing in the family room. At the beach, all I could think about was how the kids played in the waves and dug in the sand the year before, and how I had envisioned taking them again this year. Heck, I even reread my own poem about it! It was tough, believe it or not.
I must admit, I did have a wonderful time. Just because it was not the vacation I planned, doesn't mean that it wasn't a good vacation. I actually spent the first couple days with two of my best friends from junior high, who also happened to be at the beach that same weekend. My parents really took wonderful care of me, making sure I didn't push myself and hurt my knee worse. Best of all? I actually got to lay down on the beach, read and worship the sun like I haven't been able to since having kids. I was even able to dig a hole just right for my knee so I could lie on my stomach.
The only reason I was even okay going without my kids and husband is because, as Londo pointed out, my parent now own a house 2 miles from a beach just a town up from the one where the timeshare is. He promised we'd take our family vacation for a week in August at my parent's house, when the kids were on summer break and my knee was healed up. After a bit of talking, I realized that this was the better plan for the family vacation.
I had thought I would go to my parent's beach house just about every weekend, from May through September. The torn meniscus changed my plans, and I've had to re-think my entire summer. I am glad that I got to go to the beach in June, and I'm looking forward to the family vacation in August.
And now my recovery from the surgery and the physical therapy I will be doing is of even more importance to me. If they go well, and quickly, I believe that my weekend plans in July will involve a lot of trips to my parent's beach house with the kids, and hopefully without Londo since goodness knows he needs and deserves a lot of time for himself as soon as I possibly can give it to him!
Originally, I had figured I would go to my parent's beach house without kids a couple of weekends in July or August. I was not ready for that time in June when I hadn't even gotten to take the kids to the beach by myself even once. I didn't need the time away from the kids I had barely been able to play with or put to bed for weeks. But that's how it worked out. Now, I can't wait to spend my weekends with my kids, at the beach and at home, with two working knees.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)