Surviving the Tag-Team Family Vacay
I could hear the familiar high-pitched, piercing shriek as I reluctantly approached the kiddie pool. I scanned the droves of assorted mommies in their skirted swimsuits. Some lily-white and others already a crispy shade of burnt sienna. Wrangling and wrestling with their water-logged munchkins.
Among the few dads, I spotted my Hubby, chasing behind our wailing wee-one, who was intent upon conquering a water slide that was a bit out of his league.
I knew I should have stayed upstairs, ordered room service and watched a chick-flick off pay-per-view. I could have faked a migraine, and no one would have been the wiser.
But here I am, and I did feel sorry for Hubby, as I’ve been in his shoes countless times. I tried to intervene, sing-songing, “Mama’s here! Everything’s OK!” But Baby Boy was already too far gone.
I tried my best to soothe him, but the wailing continued. As he flip-flopped in my arms like a giant marlin freshly reeled-in, a woman and her two older kids came around the corner.
Instead of giving me a sympathetic glance, the universal secret handshake of moms, she stopped dead in her tracks and stared at us.
That’s right, she just stared.
With that judgy-mommy look that says, “My kids were never this bad.”
Hmph. “You wanna piece of me?” I’m thinking.
Luckily, Hubby came around the corner with our bags, snatched Baby Boy out of my arms and whisked him off and out of the pool complex, calling over his shoulder, “you stay here with Big Sister and relax for a bit.”
Well, heck yeah, now I really needed a drink. With Big Sister off on the water slides, I decided to park myself on a lawn chair by the family pool and order a cold beverage.
I gazed at that beautiful beer and felt quite content. It’s a beer in a plastic cup in San Antonio. But I’m alone with it, and it’s mine, all mine. So it might as well be champagne in a crystal flute in St. Tropez.
After a few cool sips, I’m finally starting to relax. I feel like Will Farrell in the Frank the Tank beer-bong scene from Old School…”once it hits your lips, it’s so good!”
Big Sister comes back from the slides and quickly heads off for a spin on the lazy river. I calculate that she’ll be gone a minimum of 15 minutes, and an intriguing thought pops into my head.
Maybe I’ll mosey on over to the adult pool. Dare I attempt to penetrate the other-world of the married-without-kids and young single girls in bikinis? Me, in my skirted mommy swimsuit? I’m so desperate for a few moments of silence, I just can’t resist.
It’s so good, it feels bad. Like I’m doing something really naughty.
As I slide into the cool, still water and take my spot at the infinity edge overlooking the Texas hills, I feel a sense of euphoria that will hopefully carry me through the remainder of our sure to be tantrum-filled family vacation.
If I’m lucky, I may even get to spend some time with Hubby, as opposed to just crossing paths with him in the hallway.
For now, I’m going to enjoy this fleeting moment in time as a normal person.
Now where’s that waitress…