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Broke Wife, Big City
The perfect
getaway
By Aprill Brandon
It has been a long, hard winter. Followed by several weeks of spring
that were a long, hard winter. Followed by one nice day. And then two
more weeks of snow.
On top of this, my husband has just finished a huge project at work. He
worked nights, weekends. For months, he was either at work or at home
working. At one point he got so stressed out he stopped talking in
complete sentences.
Neither of these things, of course, registered with my kids, who still
wanted to do things and learn things and go places and, in general,
needed constant parenting even though we were a man down and we were
living on Hoth.
“Can we go outside, Momma?”
“No, baby, there’s a snowstorm.”
“Can Daddy take us outside?”
“No, baby. Daddy is crying in the kitchen and stress-eating frosting
straight from the can.”
Which is why we are taking a much-needed vacation in a few days. I
mean, we NEED this as a family. NEED IT. Everyone is snippy and crabby
and a few other highly descriptive words I can’t use because this is a
family website.
So, we are heading to the coast. For some fun and (hopefully) sun. I
even sprang for the fancy big cottage. With an ocean view. And a
fireplace. And a porch. And separate bedroom for the kids. A separate
bedroom that hopefully locks and is soundproof.
As you can imagine, I cannot wait. Here’s how I imagine it will be:
Everyone will wake up in a great mood on the morning we are supposed to
leave. The sun will be shining and birds will be singing and then the
little singing birdies will help me get the kids dressed. In fact, the
morning goes so smoothly that we realize (as we coolly and calmly climb
into the car) that we have time to go out to eat for breakfast. Which
is how we find that adorable diner with the sassy waitress who
entertains the kids so my husband and I can actually eat our food and
drink our coffee and have a conversation instead of shoveling it all in
and grunting at each other.
The kids will then immediately fall asleep in the car until we arrive
at the oceanfront cottage (which is even bigger than we thought) and
the weather will be 75 and sunny every day with a light breeze.
We will spend our days wandering through the quaint little town and
walking along the seashore and eating too much food and drinking too
much beer and buying frivolous things we don’t need because, hey, we’re
on vacation.
I will read at least three books and finally make a dent in that giant
magazine pile that’s been building for months.
Every night the kids will immediately fall asleep in their SEPARATE
bedroom at 8 p.m. on the dot while my husband and I sit on the porch
and drink even more adult beverages and talk about everything and
nothing and make-out like teenagers.
And, of course, I will take a thousand photos and look back upon this
vacation as one of the best times of our lives.
Sigh. Sounds
perfect, doesn’t it?
Yeah. Except, I have gone to too many places with my kids to delude
myself into really believing all that. So, here is how our vacation is
actually likely to go down:
We will leave the house approximately two hours late because of
multiple pants-related tantrums. Breathless and sweaty and irritated,
we will shove the kids into their car seats as they cry and we curse
under our breaths. Once we are finally on the road I will start hurling
handfuls of Cheerios into the backseat to shut up the kids who keep
complaining about how hungry they are. About 45 minutes in we will have
to turn around because one of them forgot their woobie even though they
were reminded 12 times not to forget their woobie.
Back on the road, AGAIN, we will keep turning up the radio to drown out
the “how much longer?” whining from the oldest and the hysterical
crying from the youngest.
The cottage will be much smaller than we thought and the weather
forecast will predict rain the entire time we are there. And as soon as
we get our luggage out of the car and into the cottage, the kids will
start complaining about how bored they are. When I angrily snap back at
them “I don’t care,” the youngest will get her revenge by throwing all
my books into the toilet.
The kids will play on the beach for 14 minutes before wanting to move
onto something else, both oblivious to the fact they are covered head
to toe in sand. After cleaning them up, we will try to go out to eat
but never actually get to sit down at the same time because the
youngest keeps figuring out how to get down from the highchair like
some tiny rabid Houdini and the oldest chooses right now to poop his
pants.
Very soon after this we’ll say screw it and head back to the cottage
where we’ll put the kids to bed early and open a bottle of wine and
start a fire in the fireplace. As soon as the glass hits our lips, our
daughter will start crying. Which wakes up our son. Who also then
starts crying. And they both end up in bed with us. Where they kick and
squirm all night. And my husband and I end up awake but unable to move
for the next eight hours, just laying there in a hell of our own
making.
And I will take a thousand photos and then leave my cell phone in the
bathroom of that restaurant, which I will only remember as soon as we
are back home.
Sigh.
But THE POINT IS we are going on vacation. And no matter what, memories
will be made and hey, in just a few short decades, we’ll only be able
to remember the good ones.
Can’t get enough of Aprill? Can’t wait until next week?
Check out her website at http://aprillbrandon.com/
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