You guys,
They say traveling with kids is not a vacation. It’s a trip.
So after a week on the beautiful island of St. Kitts I expected to be exhausted. I expected to be frazzled. I expected to not relax at all (even though I brought two books to read during my “leisure time” like a total moron).
I did not expect that at the end of our seven days it would feel like I ran a marathon. After holding both babies on and off for the majority of the week I felt like my body was shutting down.
On our last day in the pool, I didn’t have the strength to lift my 2-year-old (for the 37th time) from the bottom step to the top step and might as well have dunked George underwater. On the return flight home, changing a third poopy diaper at my feet, the muscles in my upper leg/butt area spasmed and I flipped my shit on Sam. He asked what I wanted him to do but there was nothing. I just wanted to take my frustration out on him. I literally could not change one more diaper on this goddamn plane.
Speaking of the return flight — wow, so much worse than our flight to St. Kitts.
At one point, George, in quick succession, bit, pinched, and then pulled Sam’s leg hairs out. I looked at Sam helplessly while I held Layla. Sam tried to mask his pain while he somehow remained calm and told George, “I know you’re frustrated but that hurts Papa.”
Something about the combination of his calmness with my tiredness and George’s psychopathness left me hysterically laughing as tears streamed down my face.
A day later, finally in the comfort of our own home, I groaned and complained. Everything hurt. I kept repeating, “Oh my god I’m so tired,” and “Oh my god I’m in so much pain.”
Sam laughed at me. He didn’t understand how I ever played a Division I sport.
I told him life shouldn’t feel like a Division I sport.
He replied, “Yes it should, if you’re doing it right.”
To which I replied with a patented Charlie Bleecker eye roll, and went to bed.
Fucking Family
As we drove from the airport back to my in-laws’ house, Sam said, “I don’t think I can travel with my family anymore.”
He was over it. I was, too. But I’m pretty sure we’re going to travel with his family once a year for the foreseeable future.
Next time, we’ll book our own flight and do the actual traveling separate from the family. We’ll plan more family outings and activities with just the four of us. We’ll meet up with the family for happy hours and most dinners, but otherwise, we’ll do our own thing.
It’s wonderful to spend time with family. In small, controlled doses.
Was it worth it?
The only way to get better at traveling with kids is to travel with kids.
Holding them in our laps was our biggest mistake.
We booked the flight 9 months ago before Layla was even born and George had just turned one. Why pay over $1000 for two additional seats if the airline allows babies under 2 to travel for free as 'infant in lap'??
Uh, because maniacs need to be strapped down.
—
Until next week,
Charlie