Spring Break? Seriously?

Spring Break?

I’ve heard it said that a mom going on a family vacation isn’t a vacation at all but a trip with the kids. How very true.

Our family decided to venture to Chicago for spring break this year. Joe and I were so excited to show the kids all the sights and sounds of a big city – the food, the museums, and the art. The kids mostly just wanted to swim in the hotel pool.

Moms and Dads have an entirely different way of approaching family trips (or at least Joe and I do). I packed the kids’ things carefully making sure to include good walking shoes, warm clothes, toothbrushes, shampoo, bathing suits, electronics for the car and so on and so on. I also made sure to stock my purse with gum, cough drops, band-aids, children’s Motrin, Dramamine and matches – you just never know. It should go without saying that I ended up forgetting to pack a coat for myself. I spent the week trying to act like I wasn’t frozen when I really, really was. It should also be noted that I threw my back out right before we left so I survived on a diet of Motrin and heating pads for the entire trip. Martyr? Who me?

Joe had done a lot of research before the trip. He’d gotten travel books from the library and figured out most of the things we’d need to know to get around the city. He knew, for instance, that if you don’t get to Shedd Aquarium by 9:00, you could end up waiting two hours just to get in. Really good information to have.

We started our first day with a quick breakfast and then headed right to the aquarium. Almost immediately upon entering, the kids tried to scatter in separate directions, as kids will do. In the past I might have judged the people who put leashes on their kids, but this trip had me rethinking that. At least those people got to look at the fish. I was too busy darting my eyes around like a crazy lady trying to make sure that I had visual contact with both kids at all times. Joe got to read all the signs about the fish, where they live and how they feed. Me? Not so much.

Around 2:00 the rumblings began from the kids that they were hungry. We had obviously pushed them past lunch so I mentioned this to Joe so we could take a break and have something to eat. Apparently, I forgot to check the “imaginary itinerary” because eating, resting and breaks weren’t on it.

“We only have one more floor to finish then we’ll be done with the aquarium and we can head out for some Chicago style pizza,” he said.

“Oh,” I said, “I guess that will work. The pizza place is pretty close right?”

“Yep, we’ll just take the blue line to the red line, catch the 146 bus and get off at Michigan Ave. From there it’s only about eight blocks!”

Seriously? The whining was reaching a fevered pitch at this point. It must be that women have different hearing acuities than men because, to me, it was deafening but Joe was completely unaffected. It probably helped that he was about 10 feet ahead of us at all times…

Luckily, I had had the forethought to grab some of the leftovers from breakfast and was able to ration out a few warm grapes and a slightly squished orange wedge to keep the kids at bay. I also produced an old granola bar that was smashed up but still edible. When the kids rejected this sad and measly offering of food, Joe proclaimed that “They must not really be hungry then”. Sigh.

Joe was enthralled with the city – the hustle and bustle, the people and all the great food. I couldn’t quite get into it in the same way. Exploring and enjoying a city is not exactly the same as it was “pre-kids”. Throughout the entire trip I was tuned in to who might be hungry, thirsty, tired, bored, overwhelmed or in need of a bathroom RIGHT NOW. I tried to be two steps ahead of every request so that it wouldn’t turn into some kind of “emergency”. Joe said that I was coddling them. I know that you moms out there understand what I’m saying – “Mom Mode” is a 24/7 kind of thing that can’t be turned off. No matter where you are, you’re anticipating needs of everyone and trying to stay ahead of it. Have you ever caught yourself asking your (adult) friend if she has to use the potty before you leave? Enough said.

After the trip I was exhausted and paralyzed by the load of laundry waiting to be done. There were no groceries in the house and everyone was suddenly starving. Right back at it.

Once we settled in and I was able to touch base with some other mom friends I started to hear many of the same complaints. One friend, whose name I won’t mention, told me the story of her troubles on their spring break road trip.

She had dutifully packed a bunch of healthy snacks and sandwich fixings for the long drive. She had drinks and even fruit! At the first stop (I think it was Baker Road) her husband led the charge into the gas station to get “other” snacks. As she sat staring at her humble ham and cheese slices, the children paraded back out with cracker jacks, Gatorade, Pringles and Doritos. When the husband took his place behind the wheel and opened a giant Slim Jim, she lost it.

Is it a lack of communication between the spouses or is it just that men and women are programmed differently? For men it seems to be about the destination and how quickly and efficiently they can get there and get it all done. For women it’s more about the journey and noting the presence of every bathroom in a three mile radius. For the kids it’s just about an indoor pool. Maybe we’ll save some money and stay in Ann Arbor next time…

My awesome kids in Chicago

True Confessions

Confessions of a Reformed Snow Day Hater…

It used to be that snow days were a cause for celebration. It used to be that snow days were full of fun, laughter, snow forts and hot chocolate. It used to be that way when I was a kid. Now that I’m an adult, snow days have a different feel altogether.

It began with the initial notice that school had been closed for the day. Ugh. The kids were happily rejoicing (instead of taking advantage of the situation and sleeping in, like a normal adult would do) and making plans for the day.

Joe and I who have been, more or less, happily married for almost 13 years (up until this morning) began the same argument that was occurring in other households throughout all of Washtenaw County. We began to jostle for position.

“It’s all you today. I’ve got a REALLY important client that I’ve GOT to see today,” said Joe.

“No way. I’ve got a meeting that’s been on the books for MONTHS so you’ll have to stay home with the kids, “ I replied.

That went on for another 15 minutes, each of us coming up with something more preposterous than the next that absolutely had to be handled. And that was all before we’d even gotten out of bed. Finally I straggled out of bed, mostly because my coffee addiction will not be denied, and I made my way to the front window. Oh. My. There’s a LOT of snow out there. Really a lot. I got the coffee fired up and retreated to the bedroom to give the report.

“Well, it looks like we’re stuck at home today. The snow is really deep and there’s hardly any traffic on the road. I can just barely make out the top of the mailbox. So, short of hitching up “Sugar” (our miniature schnauzer, who is a notoriously bad sled dog) we’re not going anywhere.” Dang.

Then the (parental) chaos really began. Both of us began to run in opposite directions babbling about emails that needed to be sent and voice mails that needed to be checked. We started to calculate just how much we’d be able to get done at home with this “bonus day” that wouldn’t leave us horribly behind for tomorrow. Computers were fired up and cell phones come out. It didn’t occur to us to take a minute and look at our kids.

Our kids, who were bundling up in snow pants, mittens, hats and scarves to embrace the beautiful snow day that they’d been given. Their excitement level was through the roof, causing me no small irritation, and they were talking a LOT. And loudly, too. Then they hit me with the big question and asked if Joe and I could come out and play.

Are you serious? With all of the stuff that I’ve got to do today? In my mind I was going over all of the replies that I could use, “I’ve GOT to check in with the office and take care of some things, it’s really important”, “I could use this extra time to finally clean out that closet in the basement” and “Can’t you just go out and play by yourselves?”

In the end, I chose a reply that I almost NEVER use. “Ok,” I said. “Let’s get Dad and go outside”.

And so we did. We bundled up and went outside to build a family snow fort. The snow was really deep and the air was crisp but we had all the snow gear on so it wasn’t too bad. We began to build the fort but we got off to a bit of a rocky start. It’s sometimes (ok, almost always) difficult to shift out of the “married couple” mode even when it comes to something as simple as playing. Joe decided that we were going to build the fort by the side of the driveway and he started to dig it out and shout orders, “Pack that snow, bring me some more snow bricks, put them right here.” This was where I got really irritated. I said, though I’m not exactly proud of it, “Who made you the boss of the snow fort?”

He stopped, turned to me and said, “Did you have a better idea about how to do this?”

That is when I completely reverted to the playground rules of our youth and hit him square in the head with a snowball. Then I started running, which is not easy to do in deep snow or in snow pants that don’t fit the same as they did last year. Plus, I was laughing hysterically because he was catching up. Before I knew it, I was tackled into a huge pile of snow. The kids piled on and there was snow everywhere, down my back, in my mittens, in my face and we were all just this laughing, rolling pile of family in a snow drift. It was awesome.

We built a great fort with high walls and even a roof. We all crawled inside (even the cat and the dog) and listened to the snow fall. We talked about how we could hide in there and wage an amazing snowball ambush if anyone stopped by - they’d never see it coming.

It was exhausting and wonderful and the stuff that memories are made of. It is, however, far more difficult to build a snow fort and hike through deep snow when you’re over the age of 10. I could barely move in my snow pants and my hat kept falling down over my eyes. I fell down and got snow in my boots and got crabby for a minute and then I just let it go. I tried to remember how it was when I was a kid. How nothing could stop the fun – not even snow in your boots.

Joe and Max raced by on a sled (not exactly at an Olympic Luge pace but quicker than I would have volunteered for) and were laughing all the way. Zoe and I found some pristine white snow and plopped down to take a big scoop and eat it. I don’t remember snow tasting so much like dirt when I was kid, but memories are sometimes deceiving, so again, I let it go.

We came back in the house to beeping and buzzing cell phones and urgent emails but suddenly, nothing seemed all that urgent. I slipped into the kitchen to make the most killer hot chocolate I have ever made and to reflect on the day. We had fun, together, all of us. We don’t get a chance to do that enough, nor do we allow ourselves to do it. I’m always reading in my magazines about how you need to slow down and take some time to just take it all in. It sounds like such a great idea and I sometimes write it on a slip of paper somewhere and promptly forget about it. But today I didn’t. Today I actually slowed down and enjoyed a moment.

To be fair, I documented the event well. I had the camera going off like crazy – I’m not even sure how many pictures I took. And it was very intentional. I would like to be the bigger person and say that I took the photos so that I could put them in the kids’ scrapbooks so they could look back and remember what a great day it was. In reality, I took the pictures so I have proof that it happened. The next time they say to me, “You never play with us”, I’ll be able to whip out the pictures and show them that I did!! Petty, I know.

This snow day was on the heels of a trip we took to Vets Park the day before to try out ice skating. I guess I only mention it now because it wasn’t nearly as successful, in my mind, as the fun we had in the snow. The ice skating trip involved blood, bruises, tears and more than a little complaining (and that was just the time it took to actually put the skates on...).

I had vowed to try skating again even though I remembered HATING it as a child. My parents always told me that it was because I had weak ankles. It must’ve been the excitement of the Olympics or something (how do they make it look so EASY) that gave me this genius idea. It was horrible. It was even worse than I remembered and from here on out, I’m vowing to never do it again. My feet were killing me. My ankles hurt. And when I actually fell down (it was Zoe’s fault) it took a LOOOOONG time to get back up. I was irritated with the other skaters who looked graceful as I tripped along frantically gripping the wall.

Max and Zoe were amazing. Not in the way that you’d think, like they were amazing skaters or anything, far from it, but they just kept plugging along. Max must’ve fallen a hundred times but he just kept getting up. At one point I noticed some blood on the ice and didn’t know that it was his until later (Joe was in charge at that point…). If I would have been injured on the ice to the point of bleeding, that would have been the end of the show for me. By the end of the session, Max had figured it out and was gliding along like a practiced hockey player.

Zoe, who also fell repeatedly, cried when we told her it was time to leave. She cried. This is the kid who was clinging to the wall next to me the whole time. Had we not experienced the same thing? Apparently not. She thought it was wonderful.

So I guess what I’m saying is this. We’ve only got this one time around. The kids will be irritated by us and embarrassed about us sooner than we think. We should take advantage of every opportunity to do something together as family every chance we get. As long as it’s not ice skating. While Joe and I may fight over who took the last Motrin tonight, we’ll sleep well remembering this fabulous day.