As we've gotten older, our family has gotten bigger...yet we still make the trip every year. Mom, Dad, two sisters, their husbands, two nephews and us.
It seems natural that I would want to offer LB the same annual beach vacation, but I was all...oh hell no, that just sounds like a lot of work and a lot of people. Eleven to be exact.
Because I love my husband and because I'm such an awesome wife, I agreed to single parent LB so husband could go to Las Vegas the week before we left. While he was sleeping late, gambling, drinking, eating adult meals and having adult conversations and NOT wiping anyone's butt, nose or mouth, I was holding down the fort and keeping people alive...only this time I had to prepare to go on a week's vacation on top of it.
I recommend this for marriage enrichment.
You would think two days and a total of twelve hours in a car with an infant, listening solely to country music, would define the meaning of the word fun.
But you would be wrong.
The next time I see Dave Thomas I plan to give him an enema and a harsh talking to for being able to make french fries out of 'real' potatoes and sea salt, but being completely unable to put a baby changing station in all of his restaurants.
Hence the sex education folks got on the patio.
You're welcome.
The house we stayed in was straight out of a Rap video, as if Ludacris himself invited us all over to 'kick-it' for the week only without the naked women, gang signs, drug wars and guns. A real disappointment.
Husband and my brother-in-laws are all really tight, they are referred to as the 'bro trio'.
Every year the boys spend a day together doing their guy thing...which includes some form of hunting and gathering that culminates into lots of drinking, concocting some sort of dinner and inventing solutions to life's problems and clam steaming operations.
To us it just looks like a lot of ass scratching and chest bumping.
In the evenings, you could find the bro trio on the back deck plotting our deaths by complete annoyance or trying to break the code to the hot tub controls. They are like a modern day Larry, Moe and Curly only with white wine and a cold water aversion.
This year the boys all went off shore fishing and for the first time my oldest nephew (WE) was included. This took place on a teeny tiny fishing boat, in 100+ degree heat, with a cooler of beer and snacks.
I, on the other hand, followed my mom and little sister to the outlet mall with LB.
I think I would have been better off following smoke signals and a dream.
I literally watched in stunned silence, because there was no one but LB in the car with me and no way in hell I was calling one of them to talk it out on the phone, little sister make a wrong turn, throw her hands in the air in frustration, and clearly yell something which I can only imagine was the verbal equivalent to unicorns and rainbows.
Needless to say those two weren't talking to each other when we finally got to the outlets.
LB is really a pretty laid back kid. He'll go with the flow as long as the flow includes food and blue dog. Apparently, he is not as concerned about losing Chewy Giraffe. I had no idea you could make up so many rap songs in honor of a teething toy...but it was appropriate considering the house we were in.
Chewy Giraffe #1 (2011-2011) - Lost somewhere in Hilton Head, SC
One of the best parts of making this trip is seeing my nephews. WE and JM. It's like spending time with Bear Grylls and Jack Handey.
One night, I was feeding LB his bedtime bottle and JM, who completely adores LB, comes in to quietly chat about life, music and whatnot. He has absolutely nothing on but his tighty whiteys and freshly combed hair. WE, who has the energy of a tornado, comes in shortly after and the conversation quickly changes to how we would escape if the rest of the house was on fire.
We came up with a badass plan. And we totally would have tested it out if it weren't for the fact that we'd have to strip the sheets off the bed, land perfectly in a yucca tree and shimmy down it.
The very best part of the trip though was seeing LB's reaction to the ocean.
He. Went. Nuts.
His squeals and reaches for the waves as they washed over his feet and legs is a memory I'll never forget. I understand now what people mean when they say watching your child experience something for the first time is like seeing it for the first time yourself.
I saw the ocean for the first time on July 20, 2011.
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