Thursday, July 3, 2008

I’m back from the beach

As much as I’d like to say that I’m tanned, well-rested and recharged, I am not. I’m pooped. I need the clich├ęd vacation from my vacation.

It was our first vacation with The Baby, who is just shy of 15 months old. We drove from central PA all the way to Savannah, GA, more specifically, Tybee Island. This was a great little beach community. The water was so warm it was like taking a bath, dolphins could be spotted off the coast (not by me, of course!), and the island was calm and family friendly. Beautiful Savannah was just 20 minutes away. Our friends Angel and Scott were just 15 minutes away. Perfect, right?

We met my husband’s sisters and their families in a kick-ass condo that fit six adults and three children without feeling cramped. The appliances were stainless, the counters were granite, the floors were tiled, our bed was HUGE. Our equally HUGE balcony overlooked the pool and spa, which, of course, were tiled in slate and altogether very spiffy. The beach was about one hundred feet out the front door. Perfect, right?

Our biggest fear before vacation was the drive. What the heck was The Baby going to do for 14 hours? Scream and cry, we feared. I mean, surely he wouldn’t sleep the whole time. Luckily, he did sleep most of the trip on the way there (we left at midnight, so that was the plan). We bought a portable DVD player for his awake time. Our son, who never watches TV, was forced to watch the two Baby Beethoven DVDs that we have on repeat. For what it’s worth, he prefers Mozart to Beethoven, hands down. Anyway, the actual trip was just fine.

I’m not saying there wasn’t pleasant times in our vacation. Watching The Baby run like a fool into the ocean was priceless (the.kid.is.fearless), watching daddy and baby swimming in the pool melted my heart. Seeing The Baby get to know his cousins was equally heart warming. Watching my son and my friend Angel’s son (2 weeks apart in age) consume sand together was very sweet in a get-that-out-of-your-mouth kind of way. Having the fam watch our son so we could have a night out with our friends was awesome.

But it was all a little much for The Baby. He stopped eating anything but cereal, bananas and crackers on day two. He stopped sleeping well on day three. He’d wake up anywhere from 1 a.m. to 3 a.m. and he would stay up for hours. Not just up, but up and crying. He wouldn’t lay between us in bed, he didn’t want to play, he writhed in our arms. Just when you thought he was asleep and put him down, you’d be back at square one. At one point, we took The Baby for a walk at 4 a.m. We didn’t know what else to do with him. On an up note, we saw a drunk guy trying to ride a bike. That was sorta funny.

The Baby’s attitude also changed. He started hitting and biting me and throwing things. He was crabby 80% of the time. He just seemed very frustrated and between the lack of sleep on all of our parts and our frustration and worry, we decided to leave early. The thought of another fight to get him to eat or another sleepless night literally had me in tears.

He’s been sleeping and eating just fine since we've been home. I guess he was just out of his element. Oh, did I mention I got sick on the way home? Like, pukey sick? Then when I got home, I got a cold. Awesome!



Random Photos from Tybee and Savannah.