goats and ice cream. . .how vacation has changed

I do this.

I talk to you everyday and then I leave you for a week. 

And I've done it again. But have a very good reason. . .because we snuck off to the beach for a few days! 

Imagine that.  The entire family (even an uncle, aunt, cousin and a Pops included!) with the same schedule for a few days.  Ahhmazing.  And before I go on to tell you about our time, let me say this for the record:

I appreciate every moment I get to spend with my family, especially ones when we are all together.  I am a lucky woman to have the family that I do, each one is so incredibly treasured and special and it makes life worth living.

Now. . .cozy in. . .

Good lawd.  Why didn't any of you tell me this vacation stuff with kids is the absolute craziest thing you could do to yourself?  That I would be more tired than if I scaled a skyscraper?  That naptimes and bedtimes and mommatimes do not apply?  That they will, when given the chance, poop their pants the second they are covered in beach sand?  That they will somehow defy the laws of nature and survive on marshmallows (that their grandfather continues to feed them, regardless of how many times you ask him to stop) alone?  That they will open your eyelids with their little, pudgy fingers at 2:00 a.m. saying, "Hi Mum."  Why didn't you tell me that?

It's really a good thing that I love these kids so darned much.  Watching them have a good time is what made the time great for us.  And man. . .did my little guy have a time.  He stayed in the pool until his legs wrinkled, his lips were far past blue and his entire chin shivered.  He ran up and down the beach, chasing gulls and digging holes. . ."trying" out other kids' beach pails (even though we lugged an entire bag full of beach toys with us each day), and sitting in their beach chairs.  Side note:  why is it that my baby always want the other kids' beach pail?  It could be the same exact pail, but theirs is always better.  Always.  What is that?  Is it sort of how I longingly look at Jimmy Choo shoes?  Maybe the BMWx5 is my beach pail. . .

Anyway, I digress.  We took Cole to the zoo.  They had zebras and elephants and white Bengal tigers. . .bobcats, leopards, an entire butterfly kingdom. . . and Cole?  He wanted the goats.  The GOATS.  Really? Over and over and over to the goats.  At one point, deep in conversation with a goat I understood him saying, "Hi-ya goats.  Blesh beesh mum.  Say hi-ya mum taa goats."  Yes, okay Cole.  Hi goats.  Fine day we're having.  Wouldn't you like to see the peacocks (or at least something that doesn't smell like goats)?  "Noooo maaaaa.  Goats!"  *enter tantrum here* 

On vacation, tantrums are ended by running to the nearest ice cream parlor, by the way.  All bets are off on vacation.  He even got a ginger ale by the pool.  Outrageous.

Matilda had herself a fine time, too.  Constantly being held and napping when she could find five, quiet, minutes.  The best nap she had was bundled in her car seat, on the beach in 65 degree weather, listening to the waves.  I was bundled up beside her, until I got the good sense to hit the pub with my sister-in-law and leave the boys in charge of that foolish scene. 

Although we are pooped and need a vacation to recover from vacation. . .we all had a great time.  Gone are the days where Bill and I would lay on the beach for hours with a cocktail and magazine.  At least for now.  And really?  Who's got that kind of time anyway?  These days, I'd much rather be chatting up the goats. . .

Bill and I didn't see much of each other at all.  I'm learning quickly that with two children you each always have. . .well. . .a child.   It wasn't until our last night, when everyone else was sleeping, that he and I were able to sit at the pool together, feet dangling in the water, finally having a minute together. . .

. . .our topic of conversation?  The kids.  C'est la vie.  ;-)