When we go on trips or extended outings I always jot down the stuff I want to remember to blog about on a napkin, scratch paper, etc. If no paper is handy, I just text myself a word or two so I'll remember.
We really did have a great vacation. "Great" in my book these days could be translated in one of the following ways:
(a) No one was hospitalized.
(b) No travel horror stories involving hair pulling, carsickness, or vehicular malfunction.
(c) I was actually able to relax some and enjoy myself, even "go with the flow" at times.
And I'm proud to relay that all of the above were true of our trip. We put over 2,000 miles on the van and had great little travelers. And were still on speaking terms with each other when all was said and done.
We had a great couple days in Alabama fishing, riding the golf cart (Drue got thrown out once while Reese was driving), visiting with family, making S'mores. I got together with a friend of mine who still lives down there and now has three kids as well. As David pushed each of our kids higher and higher on the tire swing, I would cringe and hold my breath. She laughed and said, "You used to go a lot higher on there when you were a kid!".
Sure I did. But that was when I was invincible.
It's different watching your kids engage in mildly dangerous activities. But I couldn't help laughing at myself too after she pointed that out.
The whole time David and I were in Florida last year for our anniversary we couldn't stop thinking about how much fun the kids would have at the beach. So we were excited to take them this year. I wish I could put into words just how neat it was to see the beach through their eyes.
We had to walk up a few steps to get to the actual beach from our hotel. And as the beach finally came into view the white sand confused them all. "Why is there snow at the beach?", Reese asked.
Tate went running ahead and threw himself down in the "snow". Then he hopped back up, ran a few more steps, and threw himself down again. Over and over.
Drue even mentioned it a little later. "I thought the sand would be darker".
"Why?", I asked her.
"Because that's the way it is on our TV beaches".
They didn't waste anytime running into the water. The waves were perfect while we were there. Just enough to have fun in, but not too much to make me hyperventilate.
Tate had a little too much fun in the sun that first day we were there. Right after I took all their beach pictures in their white outfits he frowned and said, "My tummy hurts me."
He sat on my lap all through dinner (fresh seafood!) and didn't eat a thing. I drug them all out for one more picture on the beach as the sun was going down and as I was getting the girls in position, Tate projectile vomited about a gallon of salt water onto my foot. And then another gallon in the parking lot of our hotel.
He fell right to sleep beside me as I googled "salt water poisoning" and the like. The next morning he woke up and said excitedly, "My tummy feels better!". He then lifted up his pajama shirt and said, "You want to feel it?".
He said the reason he got sick was because he had too many waves in his tummy. We bought a little boat raft the next day to pull him around in and he pretty much kept his mouth clamped shut when the water got too rough.
Late in the afternoon that next day he said he wanted to sit with me on our beach chair. So I went one step further and asked him if he wanted to go take a nap in the hotel room. He was off my lap in a flash and headed toward the hotel! He curled up on our bed and went right to sleep.
It was a fun trip and I look forward to our next family adventure.