What a trip

They say there's no such thing as a vacation with kids. Well, do you know who they are? Me. I am they. And hear me say to you: there's no such thing as a vacation with kids. 

We just got back from 4 days in Philly, and while I would call it many things (a trip, a visit, a whirlwind adventure!) a "vacation" would not be one of them. Because though it was actually quite lovely (in pockets...at times...) I'm fairly certain people sleep on vacations, so by that criterion alone, our weekend was disqualified. (I would argue that the true hallmarks of a vacation are returning tan, fat and happy...maybe even with a bead or two in your hair...but that seemed like an impossible dream at this point, so I was willing to set the bar low:  I would have settled for just fat. But alas, my kids wouldn't even let me hit the breakfast buffet in peace...)

So no. This weekend was most definitely not a vacation. But it was a trip. 

As with most endeavors these days- there was good, there was bad, and there was ugly. Sometimes all of them within a matter of minutes. There were points when I contemplated, seriously contemplated leaving at least one of the (screaming) children on the side of the road. But somehow, mercifully, there were just as many moments when I wanted to stop time and bottle up their exact essence right now because they're each just too perfect (and funny, and adorable) to comprehend. And then they'd scream some more and I'd be back to my plan of leaving them at the nearest service station to fend for themselves. You know. Just til they're 18 or so. (Don't worry...I'd never actually abandon my children. And if I did, it'd be at one of the really nice rest stops with an Auntie Ann's. I'm not a monster.) 

Traveling with kids is memory making on warp speed...it's highs and lows jammed back-to-back too fast to make much sense of them. You're laughing and crying, and yelling, and hugging, and when it's all over you look at each other and promise you'll never do this again, simultaneously knowing you absolutely will. It is yin and yang. Bitter and oh so sweet. 

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Catching chicken nugget throw-up in a towel, confirming our suspicions that yes, Fin does indeed get carsick. 

Glimpsing in the rear view mirror to see sisters sharing their toys and helping calm down their baby brother. (and maaaaaaybe taking a Dramamine induced nap).

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Turning a 4.5 hour trip into 6, due primarily to the longest rest-stop lunch in history, inclusive of one water bottle related tantrum, and no less than four separate bathroom trips. 

Catching up with old friends, chatting, laughing, and staying up way past our old-lady bedtimes. 

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"Sleeping" sandwiched between two little bodies, striving to keep everyone quiet enough to avoid waking the baby before the sunrise. 

Organizing glee-filled races to press the "excavator!" button (again, and again).

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Nursing a sick baby at 2pm, while my lunch sits juuuuuust out of reach. 

Getting snotty, but heart meltingly sweet snuggles from the fever-stricken baby. 

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Seeing the clock strike 11pm, and 2am, and 6am (and maybe a couple hours in between).

Watching Piper swim a lap around the entire pool by herself (with a little help from her floaties). 

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Running out of discipline options at bedtime, putting Fin in the bathroom for (yet another) time out. 

Laying next to her afterwards to try to talk about being a better listener, and having her rub my arm with her jelly's ears as a silent form of apology.

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Packing everything we could possibly need for an day spent a family's house, and realizing we didn't 
bring a pack and play for naps, and oh...we're also out of diapers.

Watching Dustin's family embrace the girls and seeing them play with their cousins like they've known them forever. 

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Accidentally bringing up religion and politics, in one very ill-conceived attempt at conversation.

Holding hands with the girls after a long day, telling them, "I love you little people.", and hearing Fin, with all the sincerity in the world reply, "I love you too, Mom. And you love me. And I love you too."

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I could go on forever, highlighting tiny snippets I never want to forget (mismatched flip flops, unbridled enthusiasm over Fruit Loops, searching for duck logos on every hotel surface), and mini-nightmares I'm thankful are already fading from my mind (the whining. oh the whining. SO MUCH whining). This weekend was the full spectrum:  the absolute worst...the holding puke in your hands, strung out to your wit's end with complaining, bleary-eyed exhaustion, worst. And the absolute best...the childlike wonder, heart might burst, memories for a lifetime best.

It wasn't a vacation. But it was a trip. 

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