No Place like Home

I have just returned from a six day vacation booked long ago by a very naive version of myself and all I want to do is stay home now. Let's face it, I am a happily married, stay-at-home mom with two little girls, ages 5 years and 18 months. I am sure anyone who has small children now or has been through this knows; there is no such thing as rest on a vacation with children. It is a trip. You have to be in two places all the time even if it is right in front of you. It is a lobotomy. I can never go anyplace without the struggle wearing me out by the time I say "table for four, one high chair, please." Even if I get this far, I am tired just imagining all the possibilities of the food, the clearing of the table before I eat (because the younger one will clear it if you do not do it first-quietly and safely!) Not really getting to eat or talk or even listen well because of the intensity of the curious toddler waving, throwing, screaming and smushing food through the ringlets of her dark brown hair. (After just being bathed I might add!)
My travel experience is set in Miami, at a moderately priced, beachfront hotel in the heart of the Art Deco District or so it was described to be. There is a pool, a beach and plenty of activities to entertain the children all within 30 minutes of our hotel. In fact, I romanticized the pool and the beach, thinking I might actually get there and what I might wear (typical me) and envision all four of us enjoying them.
Not quite...while it is no fault of anyone else’s, these are choices we made to make things run smoother as a family. I remained behind in the hotel room and sent the noisier husband and older child out to swim at the pool and then, the beach. Our younger daughter doesn't sit; she runs and runs and runs. It is not a great age for sitting still so I say "Don't worry about me, I will sit and read here [the hotel bed] while she naps." The first day, I was intent on reading for hours and couldn't concentrate very easily. I peaked outside to observe, the blues and turquoise hues meeting the visibly, soft white sand of the beach. I can feel the breeze despite the intense July-in-Miami, Florida heat-wave. I can hear fluttering of the seagulls fly above the ocean and the sky-writers disperse their messages from my oceanfront view. "Crabshak Happy Hour 4 to 7." The smell of the fresh, clean sea air reaches me but I sit it all out to monitor nap-time while the other half of my family experiences all of it first hand. This is not a pity party. I am not a martyr. Well, maybe it is a little bit of pity party. Yet, this is the 18 month stage of a toddler and not for anything; I am invisioning all of this from our room with the curtains mostly closed to assure darkness and keep the nap going long and strong. "This a break in any case, right?" I justify my choice.
I could easily switch with my husband and do all the things I imagined with my five year old daughter beside me however I wouldn't really be resting or even, semi-alone, as I would be crib-side, to a sleeping toddler. So, I sacrifice one for the other and figure I have it really good. On the flip-side, how often do I get to witness one on one, the new advances in my older child's development without having my attention split because I ask her to "hold on a minute, please!" every time she wants to show me something? Everything is centered on the younger one so I can get to the older one and she knows it, do I? I might be grasping for the little air allowed parents of small children. The little specs of time to have mini conversations and perhaps a shower. I perceive that the baby napping is time to collect myself but how much do I miss?

There is no easy answer because we do the best we can. I will have to win some, lose some and try to somehow balance it all so that neither child ends up left behind.

Upon returning, I am so tired that nothing scares me more than an invitation to be somewhere when all I want to be is home. A place I know, a place prepared and safe for my kids, a place I am free to nap, read or write. There really is no place like home.