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A Working Mom Goes on Holiday

I haven’t had a vacation since my maternity leave, if you’d like to call that a vacation.

When the idea for my family to join nine other families for a beautiful vacation on Cape Cod came up, I enthusiastically accepted. When I thought of my impending trip during the six long months leading up to it, my mind would drift back to my childhood.

My grandparents had a beach house on Cape Cod that we spent most of our summers at. The memories: Steamed lobster dinners, walks down the beach at night, the sea-air mustiness in everything you could smell, the hydrangeas. With all those memories whirling around in great anticipation, I could almost feel the sun on my face during my long, miserably cold New England winter. My trip to “The Cape” would be ocean-side Nirvana.

Traveling for two was relatively easy in vacations past. This time, I had a toddler and all the necessary toddler things to take with us on the drive to our destination. Thank goodness our travel time was short because with the entire load of luggage, toys, travel crib, stroller and all kinds of other paraphernalia we now have to lug around, I was worried my family of three wasn’t going to fit into my SUV. I never thought I’d have a use for that factory-installed roof rack until now.

When I told my friends I would be vacationing with nine other couples, most of them with at least one child, I would get a look of fright from my listeners as I chirped on about my trip. “Are you sure that this is a good idea?” or “Have you done this with them before?” I waved them off. No, this was going to be a marvelous vacation, despite any problem-child or personality that may be vacationing with me.

The personality and problem-child I didn’t anticipate was my very own gorgeous, sweet baby girl. What in the world happened to this child from the time we left the house until the minute we walked up the stairs to our holiday living quarters is beyond me.

My smiley, blue-eyed little darling developed a severe attitude problem over the course of the next 72 hours. Frequent whining, crying and a few all-out nuclear meltdowns threatened the Zen-like morning coffees that I had envisioned. The only things that seemed to work for my precious buttercup were stroller walks through and around town. This turned out to be great for both of us, actually. She got to calm down and enjoy some scenery and I got my exercise in. (I didn’t know that I could walk 10 miles a day and still be able to stand but I have proved that I can on this trip). I gladly spent 10 bucks on a silly shark-faced bubble blower in order to keep her toddler tantrums at bay one morning. Money well-spent to not hear shrieking from the stroller.

I also learned that the world doesn’t have Wi-Fi in every corner. I came to this stark realization when I remembered it was Monday and I had articles due to my publishers and no way to send them. A little exploring revealed that the local library has Wi-Fi in this sleepy little village-by-the-sea. I promised that I would not check work e-mail, and I haven’t. I can’t anyway so there is no fighting it. The office will have to carry on without me. I am sure that it will anyway, despite my long list of “make-sures” for my support person and my colleague who is caring for my client base while I’m at the beach this week.

The Nirvana vacation in the seaside utopia didn’t really happen. But it’s been fun, challenging, exhausting, hysterical and chaotic with times of relaxation and quiet mixed in. All things considered, I still wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I am, however, for the first time in a long time, just a teeny-bit looking forward to the office next week and, of course, sporting my new tan.

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