Going Home Sucks

Right now, at this very moment, I'm in Whistler. With the husband. And the boy. And it's been... AWESOME. Not only because we lucked into a SMOKIN' deal on a 1 bedroom suite, but also because that suite helped the boy sleep - sleep like he was at home.

Naps? No problemo! 3-9 hour stretches at night? Easy peasy! Nothing nothing NOTHING like San Francisco and the dreaded hour to hour and a half waking he did for THREE STRAIGHT NIGHTS. Which means while we had fun in San Francisco, this actually felt like a REAL vacation - the kind where you actually SLEEP, where you go swimming with your boy, where you hang out with a girlfriend baby-free on a patio sipping strawberry mojitos, and the kind where you actually do some reading, shopping, screaming (over the WICKED deals on sale stuff), and just a whole lotta hangin' out with the husband, and the boy.

But it's also the kind that of course has to END. The kind that needs to be packed up, put away, and just remembered, because in a few short hours, we'll be back to that place where dishes don't magically get done, where laundry actually needs washing, where groceries and diapers and drycleaning need getting...

And it's not that home is bad - home is actually quite awesome right now with summer finally here, no job to go to, and a boy who's made happy by something as simple as bonking a velvet soccer ball off his head. It's just that home is the place where everything has to get DONE, where the stresses are, and where a lot of the time, no matter how hard I try to let shit go, I CAN'T let shit go. Dishes in the sink? Well I should do them! Toys all over the floor? Well I should pick them up! Garden drying up and dying? Well I should water it! And it's all just such trivial shit that really DOESN'T matter in the grand scheme of things, but it's all just such trivial shit that doesn't exist on vacation.

On vacation, the biggest worry is how warm the pool will be or not be. The biggest duty is deciding what to eat for breakfast. The biggest part of being a grown-up is getting that the babysitter IS going to survive even if your child turns back into the devil and screeches all night - it's what she's getting paid to do... keep your child alive and safe, and find a way herself, to survive keeping your child alive and safe.

On vacation, for four AWESOME days, my biggest worry has been how warm the pool will be...