Maybe I should give this post the alternate title of keeping it real.
There are some things in my life that kick my butt to the curb. You would think that vacations would be fun. But with children, fun equals work. Work punctuated by highs of carefree bliss and lows of unbelievable stress.
But the aftermath of vacations, the unpacking, the settling back into real life… it threatens to unhinge me every time.
So far this morning I have allowed my 2 and 4 yr olds to sit on the kitchen floor with scissors and cut up every single scrap of paper they could lay their hands on. Some of it might be important, I don’t know. At this point, I don’t really care.
As I sit here typing, my 2 yr old is splashing in the kitchen sink full of soapy water, I could stop him now, but what would be the point the water has already splashed all over the kitchen floor. And the floors need to be mopped anyway. Soon at least.
Hopefully this morning, maybe not until tomorrow.
Before next week. I’ll pencil it in.
My husband gave me a raised eyebrow when he walked into the kitchen and saw the mayhem, or the aftermath of the mayhem. The frat child gone wild look the house was sporting.
“Do you think you’ll get to cleaning this stuff up today?” he asked hopefully, his arm making a grand sweeping gesture across the table in the breakfast room where our back packs from our latest family vacation lay sprawled across the table. Sand, shells, rocks (so that was what was making that backpack so heavy) ticket stubs, sandals, play-doh , it all covered the entire surface.
Did I mention the sand? No wonder there is a beach erosion problem, all the children are bringing it home in their bathing suits.
The laundry room is covered 5ft deep with sandy wet laundry.
It is times like this when I am envious of his leaving the house to go to work. I stay home and work. And do it around my household and children obligations.
When there is a wrench thrown into the works, my finely organized chaos comes crashing down around me. And I say it will be a long time before we vacation again. I shake my fist at the sky and say things like when hell freezes over.
Which will happen in 3 weeks. We have a tripped planned to NYC. I’d start getting ready now, but I need those three weeks to recuperate from this vacation.
