Surviving Your Family Vacation

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The vacations before I had kids consisted mainly of tropical beach getaways or romantic trips in new cities with my husband, complete with sightseeing, wine or beer tasting and fine dining. My vacations changed considerably once my children arrived.

Taking children to a theme park gives a whole new meaning to the word "vacation." Let me be clear, it is still wonderful to have family time together and watching the happiness pour over your child's face is wonderful and rewarding. But anyone who has ever participated in such a trip knows that a child having the time of his or her life can quickly change to having a meltdown.

The preparation for the trip starts sometimes weeks before you even leave. There is laundry and packing to do. If a beloved toy or nightlight is forgotten, the blame usually falls on the mom. It's a lot of pressure. This is why I typically make a list, check it while packing and double check it before the car leaves the driveway. But in the event that you realize that something has been overlooked, keep in mind that just about anything can be purchased wherever you are going. So don't sweat it.

The long car ride always takes extra patience, not to mention creativity for car games and detailed planning to have the access to snacks and activities to keep little ones occupied for the duration of the drive.

Once at the hotel, the excitement builds for the kids when we finally get checked into our room. It can turn into a grown-up's game to keep track of how many times you have to say "no jumping on the beds!" I also know that I have at least two nights for my youngest son to become accustomed to sleeping in a strange place. This means for me that I am preparing for two nights of very little sleep.

Finally, the moment that all have been waiting for: going to the theme park. Parents pay outrageous amounts of money for admission tickets, in addition to the expense of overpriced parking, food, drinks and retail items inside the park. You begin to wonder what kind of magical place you must really be in where the water costs $4.00 a bottle. Nine dollars for an espresso drink? What's in it? Liquor? Sadly, you will wish it did contain alcohol in about six to eight hours when you will really need it.

When you first enter the park, you are surrounded by happy faces. Children laughing and parents running along side of them, racing each other to the next ride. At every corner, parents are applying sunscreen on their delicate children's skin. Everyone is taking pictures to capture the happy moments. As the day moves on, you walk until your feet feel numb and both child and parent are worn out. The same happy faces that you saw entering the park are now attempting to avert meltdowns. These parents are no longer racing their kids, they are carrying them, along with giant stuffed toy animal game prizes and plastic refill cups with long twisted straws. Most of the kids are crying. Some are screaming. You and your fellow parents exchange quick sympathetic looks. Where's that liquor now? I often think that theme parks would make a huge amount of money if they sold alcohol. But that is the problem. Too many people would be buying too much of it.

After everyone has eaten dinner and night falls, my husband and I peek in on our three tired boys. They are fast asleep and snoring loudly from the exhaustion of the day. The youngest one still has the faintest chocolate moustache from the area of his face that I was too tired to wash. We watch their peaceful sleeping bodies and are thankful that we can provide experiences like these for our children. Creating family memories. That is what it is really all about.
As we tiptoe out to the "living room" area of our hotel room, my husband hands me an icy cold beer from the mini fridge. Earlier, I had realized that I had forgotten to bring an opener. When I called the front desk to inquire about one, I was told to take the drinks down to the bar and they could open them for me there. So I brought two beers down to the bar, explaining to the bartender what I had been told. Seeing the confusion on his face that someone was bringing in their own drinks, I looked at him with my sunburned cheeks, placed a large tip on the bar and told him, "I have just spent the last eight hours at Disneyland." He looked at me, grinned, and placed an opener on top of the tip and pushed them both my way. "Just bring me back the opener at the end of your stay. You're going to need more than two," he told me with a wink. Bless you, sir.

So my husband and I kicked our feet up onto the coffee table, raised the ice cold beer to our lips and held hands as we watched TV and looked at our pictures taken from the day. Certainly, our vacations now are different than they used to be but still a lot of fun.

Edited by Alison Stanton

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