A couple days ago, on the way home from our resort's posh pool complex, Mary fell asleep in her stroller. The veritable war against her nap had been getting out of hand while on vacation; my ears were beginning to ring with, 'NO SLEEP! NO NIGHT NIGHT!'; so on that particularly hot, humid, Georgian afternoon, when I saw her head start to lilt and her eyes slowly draw to close, I decided to keep walking. Four lazy miles and a couple blisters later, she woke up refreshed and ready to play (hard) once again. I on the other hand, knew that it was 5:00 right where I was.
While many may diagnose this type of stuff as classic two-year-old behavior, I'd like to argue that Mary has a genetic strain of what I call calendar horror vacui: my family's unique fear of empty spaces in a daily agenda; the urge to seize every second of every day and gauging the success of any given day on the number of things you could fit into it. Mary clearly inherited some of that, and thus treated her vacation like one of the big kids last week. Play hard. Don't nap. Ever!
For other families, and for Bobby, vacation is purely about rest and relaxation; not only a break from work, but a respite from diets and workout regimens, an excuse for indulgent meals and lazy morning afters, an agenda cleared of responsibilities and filled with refreshed beverages. While the notion of rejuvenation is a vital component of our vacations, we tend to do it by adding another r to the equation: that is relentless activity.
In my family, vacation has always acted as a chance to recommit in a frenzied way to those things that tend to get squeezed out of your life by work. And this year's summer holiday was no different. Exercise in all its various forms and formats was the theme of each day; and from sun up to sun down everyone did their best to pursue as many passions as possible.
Morning walks to watch the sunrise.
Fishing for something to eat for dinner
And fishing for lost balls.
Running, biking, swimming, logging mileage, and congratulating each other for achieving a virtual triathalon every day.
Leveraging creative capacities and exploring nature's beautiful creations.
Pursuing the Southern art of cooking, baking, and barbecuing.
Dancing and singing along to beachside crooners.
Catching up on movies, books, and games, while sipping one last glass of wine.
And photographing all of it.
But perhaps one of the most challenging, yet rewarding exercises that the family tried all week, was an exercise in living under one roof again. It was far removed from 6524 or 1026, but Cottage 155 on the 13th Street of Sea Island played host for a week of ultimate bonding within a shared (luxurious) living space.
It was an exercise in passing germs again, in particular one little virus that went from kid to kid, and now Mom to Mom.
It was an exercise in sharing a kitchen and the meals that came out of it.
It threw us back to shared rooms and with it shared bedtimes regimens.
It prompted a couple spats and splashes of spit up; but nothing that couldn't be promptly cleaned up.
There was a good old fashioned birthday celebration.
Everyone played a parent, taking turns watching the kids and taking the time they needed away from them.
We shared laundry machines and a Mom that uses them so well; sand toys and beach towels; a pantry and the snacks it held; remotes and WiFi; bikes, strollers, cars, and a living room where we could congregate at the end of the day to relay our adventures du jour.
As we started our trek home to Chicago yesterday, my foursome parted ways from the extended group and spent an afternoon soaking up a little history in Savannah before boarding our flight home. Trimmed down to size, my nuclear family seemed a little quieter and dare to say a little sleepier.
And this evening, as I watched my kids run and roll around in our front yard after dinner, home sweet home once again, I couldn't help but think how fast they will grow up; how soon our house won't be big enough; and how much I will need a vacation like the one I just shared with my extended family.
A big thank you to my parents for getting the gang back together, under one roof, for a non-stop fun family vacation. And a big thank you to the Cloister and Sea Island for entertaining and serving us so beautifully all week. We did it all. And I'm pretty sure we'll be back to do even more next time.
Lo.
