Tuesday, December 12, 2006
I’ve been enjoying a wonderful, exciting, fulfilling 9-day vacation — all from the cozy confines of the Miami Valley.
I’ve never stayed home for a vacation. It’s always involved two stressful days of packing, a couple of hairried travel days, some bad roadtrip fast-food which I feel guilty about, a healthy dose of bickering, a smidgeon of screaming, and three weeks to get the suitcases unpacked and put away afterward. All for a few days of bliss.
(I can’t even complain about the trashed minivan and the mountains of laundry produced from our normal vacations, because that’s just a normal part of everyday life.)
But this time we stayed close to home. We actually accomplished a few things and had fun along the way. I got nearly finished with my Christmas shopping and did all the decorating. Even strung popcorn and cranberries for the tree — an annual thing for me, but sometimes it doesn’t get done till the nth hour. And Hubby produced a dazzling, impressive (for us) lawn light fantasia, much to my delight and surprise. (Our home usually sports a single string of icicle lights above the front stoop. He just never ceases to amaze me.)
One night, we took a drive and experienced the Clifton Mill red-and-white light extravaganza. It was a bit pricey — 7 bucks a head — but I loved the Room of Three-Thousand Santas, even though a few of them creeped the kids out a bit. (My all-time holiday light show recommendation is the Oglebay Festival of Lights in Wheeling, W.Va. Get yourself there if you can.)
I did some mending — very rare for me — and cleaned out my two older kids’ closet, which had been in disarray for months.
The older kids and I went to the Loft Theater downtown for the Huckleberry Finn show, which they hummed tunes from and analyzed for days. And Tim and I were treated to a Date Night! We went to the Schuster Center and Kramer’s Pub in the same night. Quite a delectable contrast in flavors.
And I got to tuck the kids into bed for a whole week straight instead of missing out on bedtime rituals because of my nighttime work hours. It was prit-near heaven.
BUT … Baby still won’t eat any meat or protein, or drink from a cup regularly, despite my utilization of every suggestion I’ve ever gotten. And he fell twice on my watch, once getting rug burn on his nose in the middle of the school library with a dozen parents looking on, then later bashing his head against the tile floor at home while rushing toward the toilet with me close at his heels. His beautiful face looks like a boxer’s. Just when I wanted to get his 1-year portrait taken, of course.
So I’m a success at some things and an utter failure at others. Welcome to motherhood. What a long, strange trip it’s been.
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