Pain In My Ass

We returned from a recent vacation to Maui.  If you don’t know me I will tell you it was a good trip.  If you kinda know me I will say it was exhausting with two kids 3 years and under. And If you really know me well I will tell you all the nitty gritty details.

I do not recommend travel with small children if you have vacation fantasies.  It just does not happen. Period. No I really mean it. Just stop even thinking about it. Now.

Not that there is much to tell.  I’m not sure exactly what made me think packing up our lives, spending thousands of dollars and getting on a 6 hour plane ride (one way) to somewhere hot would make me feel happier and more rested.  I think I was deluded in thoughts and past pre-children memories of lounging by the beach, drink in hand reading a book.  Okay so in the thoughts the kids were there, and likely I’d have to forgo the book to supervise them happily playing in the sand.  But otherwise the image seemed grand.  The lounging, the sun, the drink, the sand.

Reality somehow didn’t measure up.  It’s true the lounge chairs were there.  I was staring at them as I scurried back and forth from our ground floor condo unit to the pool with extra sunscreen, water, sunhats, snacks, lunch and pool toys (no not THaaaaaaaaT one! The PINK one Mommy!)  I got to be in the sun whilst half my body was submerged in the cold pool (note: I am a sunshine girl, shying away from anything cold.  Including said cold pool; unless on the off chance the sea breeze dies, my icy drink has not been replenished and I happen to break into a sweat while doing nothing, all simultaneously.) But there I was, in the cold pool, getting a great (goose-bumped) arm workout bouncing the babe up and down while he splashed and I stared at the lounge chairs.  Not that bouncing wasn’t fun.  I could eat his little giggles up by the dozen.  But I can eat them up at home.

And as for that damned sand.  We tried the beach.  All I can say is sand + beach + sunscreen + small children is not a math equation which adds up.  Now that they should have taught in grade school math!  I dug sand out of crevasses for days. I’d really rather not talk about it.

Then there were the nights.  Usually with my small children I am up about once a night.  Not in Maui, the ‘away from home-I need water-can’t sleep-awake in a different bed and need mom’ vacation destination.  I averaged getting up 4 times a night.  And few naps.  It was kinda like Mommy jail where sleep deprivation was the choice torture.  Okay bad example, I was in Maui.  I have never been to, nor want to go to jail.  The comparison in real life is not valid in the least.  But it FELT like torture.  Very expensive torture onsite a beautiful location.  I would forgo the naps when we were on the road to get the kids to sleep so they would wake up refreshed at our exciting destinations (mountains, other little areas of the island, the hula dancers etc.)

And the last straw.  My back.  Granted I have a history of a low back injury.  But the combination of the constant carrying of small children, the not so great mattress and fate, my pain came back.  The pain, although a ‘low back injury’ is actually in my sacroilliac joint.  In English: my ass.

So what did I get for paying thousands of dollars, flying two small kids in a small contained area for a total of 12 hours, running myself ragged and being sleep deprived?

A pain in my ass.

Thank god for our fabulous insurance plan and physiotherapy! Note to self: next trip sans kids!

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