You didn’t know? What? All of cyberspace didn’t hear my bitching?
Well, no worries. Here’s a second chance.
Except. . .
I’m feeling uncharacteristically jolly about surviving the trip. . .So I’m not sure I can bring you regularly scheduled snark in this post.
My in-laws gave me a lobotomy in my sleep didn’t they? They once baptized a grandkid while she was sleeping. . .I’ll bet they also did something to me rendering me unable to be an asshole.
1. Mac has some of the BEST cousins on the planet. Chris’ brother and sister-in-law have 4 children in the dreaded ages 16-11 age range. These children have also either been given some sort of mood-altering procedure, or else they are just really really well-adjusted, respectable, sweet, smart, funny, amazing human beings. I was reminded again of how wonderful they truly are.
It takes tremendous parenting to raise children to be so amazing and I’m just impressed by all of them. Especially since their parents are the kind of folks that think a suggestive SNL skit we had never seen before regarding a character called Colonel Angus (which sounds exactly like cunnilingus when said rapidly) is great amusement. Hilarious? Yes. When watching it with your Father in Law? AKWARD.
2. I’m an awful lot like my mother-in-law. I’m not sure if that’s good news for me or bad news for her? And let’s not even think about what this says about my Husband.
3. Strange communal non-commercial places skeeve me out. I don’t care how clean a joint looks, I’m still grossed out by carpet, shower curtains, sinks, dishes, and the like that have been used by so many damned strangers without the benefit of industrial strength cleaning and health inspections. . .
4. My kid is a traveling rock star. He did his best to be happy and sweet and sleep as regularly scheduled. We asked so much of him and he completely delivered.
5. I should probably better explain my motivations. One mid-morning Chris was insistent we go to the beach. I was being pretty stubborn about it because it was hot as blazes and sunny and I can’t take that sort of heat, and I doubted it was healthy for Mac. Furthermore, I didn’t want Mac anywhere near sand. Sand is filthy. . .not just messy. . .FILTHY. It’s not that I don’t want him to never enjoy the fun of playing in the sand or surf. I just didn’t want him doing so on a trip where he could have gotten a stomach bug or sunburn at such a young age and such a distance from our home. He’ll have years to play on the beach. . .For this trip, the well-shaded pool certainly would have sufficed. But Chris completely disregarded my requests to not take him in the water/sand even though he gave me his word at the house he would not. Of course, I tried to protest without making a scene but I know I came across to the in-laws as a complete germaphobic idiot. And frankly, I’m still seething at Chris about that entire incident. . .
6. My instincts are pretty good. . .Mac made a poop en-route and we need to pull over? Yes. Immature Foresters Tern? Yes. Piping Plover in a spot where one is rare? Yes. Chris takes Mac to the searing hot beach, gets sand everywhere, events spiral out of control where kid tinkles all over the bed creating even more laundry and hassle – all of which could have been avoided by using the pool? Yes.
7. When you go to a hotel, you will never be confronted with a thermostat that has a note on it indicating “Unit freezes up if AC is turned below 75.” Yeah. You know what climate control of 75 degrees F feels like when there’s nearly 20 folks in the same house, showering, constantly running the dishwasher, washer, dryer, and oven, compounded by the fact the house has terribly inefficient window coverings? Imagine Hell, but with 97% humidity. ALWAYS ALWAYS read the reviews of other renters carefully. . .And ask about the fans, window treatments, AC etc. Thank goodness, we were sleeping in the basement level of the house. It was pretty cool down there after dark. Thank goodness!!
8. My kid uses an iPhone like a pro. Where the hell did he learn that?!
9. On a trip with a kid, there is zero reading or relaxing time, barely time to sleep, and you pretty much constantly have a low-grade headache. . .It’s actually way worse than being at home.
10. My Husband will ALWAYS be the best roadie ever. He hauls gear, kids, food and beer. . .He drives, bites his tongue, and runs interference as needed. He makes us laugh. He makes us comfortable. His commitment to our happiness is steadfast.
You know where I’m afraid he learned that?
From those same batshit crazy people who like to shack up together for days on end in a hot as hell, chaotic clustereff of a house. . .And welcome with open arms whiney little bitches like me.