Is a vacation with children really a vacation?
I cannot tell you how many times I have counted to five already this week. (This is counting heads of kids, not trying to control my temper, although there may have been a few of those moments as well.) Even with Tyler, I am outnumbered. Children go in several different directions and I find myself yelling at the top of my lungs, "Robyn, too far!! while I chase after Daisy. And when I say chase, I mean it. That child runs. Away. Way away. At the zoo, at the airport, in the security line, at the park, in church. I have found myself saying multiple times, My kingdom for a leash. And I will get one...soon.
But, we are having a joyous time. Laughter all around. (With the usual amounts of crying.) I do miss our van. For some reason, the kids have gotten fairly good about being well-mannered in the family vehicle, but here in a borrowed car, they have lost all sense of manners. I think I have heard every cliche in the book. Are we there yet? She touched me. I have to go to the bathroom. Mom, the baby just spit up. Good times.
I wouldn't pass up on these experiences or adventures for anything. We are making family memories and building character, one bruise at a time. I just wouldn't classify it as a vacation for me or the Mr.
That will come in several years when we drop the kids off at Grandma and Grandpa's and they can spend a week counting to five.
Stay tuned for "vacation" posts and pictures.