When you come home from vacation with your kids do you feel rested? I don’t. I feel relieved. We made it. Nobody got hurt, lost, sick, or too upset. I also feel stressed. Now we have to pay for that! Mostly I feel tired as I look around at the gardens gone wild, the horses filthy with old sweat, the chicken pen that is beyond ripe, and the living room carpet that will now need to be shampooed multiple times to remove the smell left from our incontinent aging dog who stresses out whenever we are gone. (Actually I’m just glad she’s alive – that was one of my biggest worries while we were away.) And then of course, there’s the laundry dumped from bulging suitcases, the mostly empty refrigerator (except for the Tupperware containers hiding on the lower shelves holding frightening concoctions left from weeks ago), and the endless messages and mail to process. Ugh.
We just returned from two weeks in California for long-overdue visits to family, hikes in the Redwoods, and kicking around San Francisco. It was quite a production to get the five of us fed, housed, transported, and entertained for two whole weeks on the road. I still can’t quite believe what it costs to feed three teens (the youngest may not be a teen, but he eats like one). Someone recently passed around a cartoon on Facebook that had a beleaguered mom sighing, “Again? But I just fed you yesterday!” That’s how I felt. They eat and eat and eat and then we get in the car and have gone only twenty miles when one of them declares, “I’m starving! Do we have any snacks?”
I sorted through the pictures last night and felt defeated. The age of digital cameras is a good and bad thing. It’s great because you can take all the pictures you want, never worrying about wasting film, but it’s bad because 1200 pictures is entirely too many to digest in a sitting. That’s nearly 100 pictures a day. Was it really that exciting? Granted these are the pics from three cameras and the youngest just discovered that he “loves” taking pictures. His subjects and angles are actually quite brilliant, but mostly blurry and hilarious.
I am confident that with time, this vacation, like childbirth, will seem worth it. I’ll be glad for the memories, the bonding with relatives, the new worlds discovered. But right now I’m thinking vacation is not vacation for most mothers. It needs a different name.
It seems ridiculously arrogant to be complaining about vacation. I do appreciate that. I’m grateful that we can afford to take the trip we took. I’m just pondering, while it’s painfully fresh on my mind and heart, if it is worth it. Call me a homebody, but I might be just as happy to stay home. I like my home. I like my quiet days in the garden and at the keyboard. I like cooking in my kitchen and lingering on the porch over dinner. I even like the stolen moments playing games on my phone while I wait to chauffeur a child to yet another game, practice, lesson, or gathering. I like the routine. Maybe going away is necessary once in awhile if for no other reason than so we appreciate home. I’m going to go with that.
Vacation is defined by Webster as “a respite.” The definition of respite is “an interval of rest or relief.” Hmmm. We all need a respite. I’m not sure that’s what you get on vacation, at least not if you’re traveling with kids. Or with anyone for that matter. One person’s respite is another person’s torture. I’d consider it a respite to sit in a beautiful, quiet place with a glass of wine and a good book, with a cat curled up beside me. Or to hike all day until my legs quiver with exhaustion before floating in a lake and eating anything cooked over a fire. I doubt my kids would go in for more than a few hours of that kind of vacation. They were happy with the days that involved water of some kind – beach, pool, stream, hot tub. Our vacation had plenty of water. But they are also happy with a vacation fueled by a steady stream of junk food, screens of any kind, games, rides, and cousins. Not me. The cousins were great, but the rest not so much.
So this was one for the kids. Like much that I do as a mother, this was a vacation for the children. It’s a time in my life. Someday I’ll get my respite, but until then I’ll just count my blessings and sort the pictures.
|This is "Zabu" the cat that came|
with the cottage we rented.
|The Redwoods - at a an angle.|
|A Redwood from an 11-year-old's perspective|
|This pic just cracked me up. My kids are such|
|Trying to rearrange the California coast.|