Monday, June 08, 2009

Recovery May Be Slow

I'm definitely not as young as I used to be. This whole "mini-vacation" thing has just about worn me out.

You know how it is when you're glad to get away because you're GETTING AWAY and you don't have to do the regular things you always have to do every single day of your mundane little life but instead you get to go and do and be EXCITING and have FUN! FUN! FUN!???

And then, after about two days of it all, the children you love more than life become not just the beings born of your loins with whom you want to spend every waking moment, but something else entirely. Before your very eyes they morph into aliens from the planet Annoi-u, whose sole purpose on earth is to make sure your vacation is fraught with complaining about being bored, how little sleep they got, how hungry they are or are not, whether or not the sun was out at the pool, whether the other child is too hungry/tired/bored to go to the pool/exercise room/bed or to watch television, all the while clinging to you like glue.

It's enough to drive a reasonably sane woman up a very, very tall tree. Or home again, tout de suite. Can you even fathom what it did to me?

It got ugly. Uglier than your cousin Sam's stepsister's mother's hairy wart that resides on her backside. REALLY ugly.

Imagine it. Being chained at the ankle to two other people for four days straight, no breaks. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks, all awake time, all asleep time, all but bathroom time.

It is truly amazing we survived. Even more astounding is the fact that we survived and no teenagers were harmed in the production of the weekend.

And best of all? We're home. Back to the mundane, lovable routine, although $300.00 poorer for the part that failed in the car. That's price enough to pay to sleep in my own bed, in my own room, with my own private bathroom. A place where I can be alone, but close enough to love on my family.

The next trip will most likely be taken as a solo venture. I am a loner by nature. The writing I had hoped to accomplish this weekend went by the wayside. It will have to be accomplished in stolen minutes throughout the week. But minutes add up, and hours follow.

Slow and steady, recovery's coming.

1 comment:

Linds said...

Well, reading the Saga of The Weekend Away With Children has had me rolling about in hysterics here. But at the same time, I feel your pain. With Mother back in residence, and given to trotting downstairs 2.5678nanoseconds after I do in the mornings, no matter what time I get up, I really do understand the tied to the ankle bit. And I do not intend doing my glorious exercises with ANY audience who is not a fully qualified-has-seen-it-all expert.

I know what you are thinking and I am indeed very fortunate to have my Mum about, and i love her dearly, indeed I do. Just a few moments a day alone would be great. She is in the technicolour phase now, after the topple yesterday. Groan.