Spring Break 2006

Robb and I decided early this year that we would take March Break off work together, so that we could spend some time hanging out, maybe snag the small people from day care a little early, tidy the house and generally do some of the things that we wanted to do when we first moved in, but hadn't yet gotten around to. A nice little relaxing vaca, with not a lot planned.

Oh, yeah, and I was supposed to start writing again.

Sadly, it took Robb and I a number of days to figure out how this vacation thing works.

Vacation Rule #1: Avoid Montezuma's Revenge At All Costs

The key to a successful vacation is to not have one small person pooping her heart out on the first official day of your vacation. By the time she came over around dinner, Bea had sat at the clinic with her Mom for something like 3 hours. For a pre-schooler, that might as well be eternity. She was tired and cranky and feverish. And she had pooped no less than a dozen times since she woke up.

One the 2nd day of our vacation, we had a very short-lived hope that Bea would be able to go to daycare on Monday, as we made it out to the park for a couple of hours while her fever was under control and she was awake. Sadly, her fever returned as soon as we got home and she fell asleep again.

One of the secrets to the kid thing, I'm learning, is to keep them awake at all costs during the day if you want them to sleep through the night. Bea woke up before we were even in bed, and ended up sitting with us, feverish still, watching the X-Men. I think the fever and the sheer amount of meds means she's not likely to remember a thing. Which is good, because she sort of frowned at the screen a lot, as if she kept thinking "this is a weird movie".

Vacation Rule #2: This Is A Cookie Tossing Free Zone

Another point to consider in planning a relaxing holiday is to dis-allow cookie tossing by anyone you may have to clean up after or otherwise take care of. In the early morning hours, after a not so restful night trying to keep Bea's fever under control, Liam decided to toss his cookies twice before 6 AM. Once in the bedroom and hallway, once on our bed and the floor.

Oh God. Shoot me now.

Bea, however, was wide awake at 5, so I trudge downstairs to watch TreeHouse with her and let Robb and Liam get some rest. I think we watched Big Comfy Couch (a show which I will undoutedly be forced to watch over and over again while in Purgatory) and something called the Biddles, small muppet-like creatures who seem to make books. They reminded me of Fraggles, though their song was much more annoyingly pop-like and therefore catchy: "We're the Biddles! We're quite little! We have back and fronts and middles!" I sang this song for the rest of the week, much to Robb's dismay.

The end of Day Two and the beginning of Day Three blurred together in a haze of TreeHouse and vomit. This is where my memory gets a little fuzzy. Bea was slightly less feverish, far more tired and cranky and a larger pain in the butt. Liam puked a couple of times but handled the cookie tossing like a pro. 'Oh, I puked. Yeah, yeah. Whatever.' They napped for a couple of hours, which they both needed. Without hers, Bea would have been bored silly. And we would have started to go mad (der), since she starts talking the minute she wakes up (5 AM, remember?) and doesn't stop until she's asleep. Sigh. I took the day off for this?

Vacation Rule #3: Sleep Is Good

Sometimes the problem with naps is that you wake up really early in the morning, like when it's still dark. For this reason, Liam was wide awake at an ungodly hour. In this case, that means before 5 AM. He said, "I'm awake!" and somehow convinced a still groggy Robb to get up and watch TreeHouse with him.

Signs of good health started to appear, though they were hard to see and mostly arrived in the form of extremely cranky children. While they seemed to enjoy staying at home and not going to daycare, they've had to be sick (really sick), stuck inside, and feverish to do it. It was becoming obvious even to them that this sucked.

At some point, while the kids were getting stoned on TreeHouse, Robb and I managed to steal away a couple of hours to clean the basement. Yippee!

Vacation Rule #4: Folks Whose Bums Hurt Do Not Make Good Company

Beatrice's mood degraded not at all gracefully. She decided that her bum hurt and would indicate this by throwing her head back and screaming and crying at the top of her lungs. I have to admit I've never seen anything like it. She was so upset that her little body shook uncontrollably. The only thing that calmed her was Rescue Remedy, hugs, napping and oatmeal baths. Robb and I didn't even know what the problem was... (does she have to rocket shit again and is holding it in for fear that it will hurt when it comes out? is her skin so irritated that it hurts even when she pees? is she bunged up and trying to poop but it won't come out?) Her temper tantrums started early and continued all day. The only small benefit was they exhausted the poor kid so much that she fell asleep. While she napped, I headed out to the drug store for supplies (who thought I'd be buying Zincofax and steroid cream? shouldn't you have a baby bag for this stuff?)

We managed to sit down and started eating our lunch before Bea totally lost her shit again (no, not that way) and demanded we cover her bum in cream. Sigh. Then she had to go to the bathroom. Sigh. Then she wanted more cream. SIGH. Her fuzzy, buzzing, Rescue-Remedied self sat on the toilet and almost fell asleep before relieving itself of another watery b.m. After a few more tears, Robb and I convinced Bea that we really should go for a walk, bribing her with tales of Toy Stores and Hot Chocolate mostly because it was sunny outside and we needed to get the f**k out of the house.

We eventually dropped Bea off at Mom's and at some point later, Liam too. Ending up at home on the couch after all that in a finally quiet house, Robb and I were too tired to move, talk or think. Eventually, it was our stomachs that made the largest protest, propelling us out of the damn house. We ate, staggered around, drunk with freedom, yet headed to bed before 10, too tired to care that there were no puking or pooping kids to keep us stuck at home on our vacation.

Vacation Rule #5: Remember to Sit Down and Relax

As Robb headed out early to grab Liam and take him to school. I, miracously, did yoga for the first time all week.

We'd finally figured out what to do on vacation: be out of the house and virtually unreachable. Robb and I were at the Starbucks before 10 and walked all over the city, ending up in my old 'hood, where I got my hair cut. We needed to pick up the kids, so we wimped out and took them to McD's - which I know is terrible, but they hadn't eaten anything all week and really needed the encouragement that food is something which you should eat and doesn't normally make you poop till your bum hurts or come hurling out of your mouth hours later- and get takeout. Kids stay over and at some point in the night, everyone ended up in the same bed. I should have bought a King.

Suddenly, it was St. Patty's Day and as another special treat (for me? for Robb? for the kids?) we took the kids out for breakfast before school. (Why no Shamrock shakes?) Admittedly, the kids thought it was cool but weird, and gave Robb the strangest look when he told them to brush their teeth when they hadn't eaten breakfast.

After some mild protests of "I don't want to go to school," Robb and I went to Pottery Barn and PB Kids, where we looked at all the too cute baby stuff at PB Kids (!) and bought Liam some sheets and repeatedly said "oh look how cute!" to everything around us.

We walked and walked and walked and then went home and thought the house was too quiet and Robb said, "I miss the kids."

Clearly, we went insane during the course of our week off, and should be seeking some sort of therapy.

I guess I spent my Spring Break preparing to become a stepmommy blogger.

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