Do I even have to answer the question?
This is starting to sound like whining already. We’re home from several days at a lovely condo, provided by Matt’s mom and the time-share people. We had a great time and enjoyed ourselves thoroughly. However, I just don’t think any trip with my children can be called a vacation.
True, I can escape the phone, and the always-sticky kitchen floor. In this case, I didn’t even have to cook most of the meals (we took turns, and my sisters-in-law are fab-o cooks). But, I still had to do all of my motherly duties, including breaking up arguments, putting whiny children in time out, and cajoling picky eaters, among other things. Doesn’t have a “vacation” sound to it, does it?
Yesterday, the biggest day, we had nine young children (Sam is the oldest) and 11 adults in a smallish condo. The award for patience, stamina, and just overall heroic behavior goes to Granny Vicki, who took various groups of small children swimming, mini-golfing, four-square playing, and other activities ALL DAY, while several of the adults, yours truly included, played a multitude of grown-up games. I really like games. We don’t play games much with adults these days, and I’d almost forgotten how fun it was — two new (new for me, I mean) ones I’d recommend are Settlers and Blokus. My kids can actually play Blokus too, so that will definitely be under our Christmas tree.
We were home at midnight last night, dirty and exhausted. If a vacation is supposed to be a break, should it feel like I need a vacation to recover from the vacation?
P.S. True to form, I remembered the camera (actually Matt remembered), but took a grand total of zero pictures of the week’s events.