If you were paying any attention to the photos I posted to Facebook over the weekend, then you know that we took a last-minute trip to San Antonio. It was a
sort of Father's Day celebration and a chance to get family time before Doug goes on a couple of short business trips.
The way the whole thing started, really, was with my Friday morning prayer time. I was sipping my coffee and musing about how much I wanted a vacation of my own. Just a chance to sit and sip coffee and muse... without interruption or guilt.
I thought about asking Doug to take the children and disappear for the weekend - or let me disappear for the weekend - but then I realized that wouldn't be a very sporting thing to do to him
on Father's Day.
Then I thought maybe we could ALL get away for the weekend. In retrospect, I'm not sure how I went from thinking I needed some relaxing time away from the kids to planning a weekend of jamming all four of us into a car and then a hotel room.
Still, the idea appealed to my spontaneous nature, so I went for it. I told Doug to erase all his expectations for the weekend and went in search of a good deal on a nearby getaway. Thanks to Groupon, I got us a hotel on the
San Antonio Riverwalk (more or less).
We got off to a VERY rough start on Friday night. Lila got a bug up her butt over having to share a sofa-bed with her brother and made everyone's life miserable until she collapsed with exhaustion. We thought we'd be in a room with two Queen beds - one for the girls and one for the boys - and she does not do well when reality does not meet expectations.
Saturday was better. We went to the Riverwalk, as soon as we were all dressed and breakfasted, and wandered around until we found the river "cruises". We cruised, we walked some more, and then we headed to the Alamo.
We all took turns having our grumpy moments, but it was a generally good morning. Actually, my moment wasn't really grumpiness. It was pain. Cramps, in my back. Ugh. For everyone else, it was fatigue-fueled grumpy moments!
Nonetheless, the weather was
delightfully mild and this was Doug's and my favorite part of the weekend.
We finished up with lunch at Iron Cactus, and then it was back to the hotel, where we moved to a room with two Queen beds and took a group nap. I continued to nap as Doug and the kids went to the hotel pool (Lila's favorite part of the weekend).
We hit another rough patch at dinnertime. We made the mistake of saying, "Where should we eat dinner?" Where adults see this as the beginning of a
collaborative discussion, children see it as a chance to get what they want.
Lila suggested Pei Wei. We didn't go to Pei Wei. More sulking and rudeness ensued. The good news is that bedtime was a breeze that night. We read stories and snuggled and left the children to fall asleep on their own, in separate beds.
Doug and I went down to the lobby-- Well, first, we lurked outside the door to our room, listening for sounds of violence.
Then we went down to the lobby, enjoyed Adult Beverages, and judged other parents for keeping their kids up too late.
Sunday morning was the San Antonio Museum of Art, where we conducted a scientific experiment on how long you can expect a 6-year-old boy to contain himself inside a museum before he loses his mind and starts to behave in socially unacceptable ways.
We did a quick lunch at Little Aussie's Bakery & Deli (a meal at which restaurant is reason enough to go to San Antonio for a weekend -
did you see the photo of the French toast that I posted?), and then headed back home.
Thank you, Home, for having a wonderful mattress. And more than one room. And doors between those rooms. And my French press. And food that doesn't contain meat or cheese. And my guinea pig. And Netflix.
This morning, I was back to my prayer time. Sipping coffee and musing about how much I want a vacation of my own. Sounds
horribly ungrateful, doesn't it? And I suppose it is. I did enjoy the weekend, but it didn't provide the break I was longing for.
Here is a perfect example of summer vacation with children:
The kids and I were sitting at Emler this afternoon, waiting for swim class to begin. I was looking at my phone. Not a group activity, mind you. Just ME. Looking at MY phone. Lila leaned over to see what I was looking at.
I wasn't doing anything secret, so I angled the phone toward her and showed her the photo of herself that I was viewing. She said to me, "Why do you show me
every picture of myself?" She said this as though I had just chased her down and shoved the photo in her face.
I said, "I don't. I showed you ONE picture of you. Because you were looking over my shoulder." Then Eli poked his head over, to see what we were looking at. Again, this was no secret, so I pointed the phone toward him.
He looked at the photo and said, "Why did you show me a picture that I've
already seen?"
What is wrong with these people?!?
Seriously. I want to know.