Adventures in Vacationing

Vacation is very short this year.  Not so much sweet, but definitely short.  As in overnight to the beach kind of short.  But hey, we got out of town, right?

So, everyone was SUPEREXCITED...

I should have added air horn to the list of vacation supplies.  TT1 actually asked to sleep in longer.  So freakin much for the early departure time dearest husband who decided to leave at 6:30 and did not even get up until then.  But I digress.

I felt that, given the short time away, I would refrain from over scheduling every ever-loving minute and just go with the flow.  WRONG.  Oh, so WRONG!  Mommy had no plan, so the constant refrain was, 'What are we gonna do now/later/tonight/tomorrow', which is the same dang thing I hear every day at home!

Aaaaand I won the prize for calling all the stops.  I called Madera, Los Banos, Casa De Frutta, Random Gas Station, Random Gas Station, Parking Lot Potty.  I know my peanut bladders boys. 

Casa De Frutta was a hit.  I decided to let the guys ride the train, and they thought I was a hero.  Of course, when I refused to buy any of the delectable delights in the sweet shop, I became the meanest mommy again.

Santa Cruz was In.Sane.  I hadn't been since 6th grade.  I still remembered the old bandstand that required a special hook-on ladder to get up on.  I remembered like, the wooden roller coaster, the swings and a couple of other rides, not the stationary fair midway that greeted us after our hour-long journey to a parking place that cost as much as a tank of freaking gas (not really, but it sounded good right?). 

TT3 refused to ride anything but the carousel, and that was touchey, since the operator girl tried to touch his seatbelt and he flipped the flip out while TT1 and TT2 were trying to figure out how to UN buckle to get the cute blonde girl to come help them.  Ack.

Oh, and while we are on the subject of cute girls, um, cuties?  We all KNOW you are cute and firm and young - please stop flaunting all of your assets in less fabric than you are required to wear under your regular clothing.  You are 12 and you are proud of your new girls - I get it.  But when I have a 4-year-old already obsessed with boobs and cute girls, and you prance by combining his two loves, well, I have a problem.  Go jiggle your junk around in a dressing room while you try on some dang clothes!

I love the beach, really, I do.  I just do not love being the parent stuck lugging the overpacked stroller 80 miles from the boardwalk to the waters' edge all alone while everyone else is galivanting along and frolicking in the waves, leaving me to sweat like a swedish sauna junkie.  Cause that was fun. 

And there are two new Olympic competitions for the under 3 crowd:  Sand-put and shadow-stomping.  Because we all love being splattered with wet sand and water.

Alas, all good things must come to an end.  After the sand, the sun, the shopping and the teensy-tinsy hotel beds shared with adorable little feet and hands that are magnetically attracted to my kidneys and crotch, reality sets in and we return home.  Rejuvenated.  Refreshed.  And Relaxed.  Or not.