Back Home Again in Indiana
When you’re living your life like a stressed out bag of stress, a vacation is going to sound hella appealing. Even when you know that vacation involves a toddler and a 5 page paper. You’ll convince yourself it’ll be okay because “at least I won’t be at work!” You’ll be mostly right.
Your toddler will refuse to nap and his overtiredness will lead him to discover a new skill of biting when he doesn’t get his way (mostly going outside instead of sitting in a restaurant). You’ll get to finish zero meals after this point. Your toddler will, however, (unlike last year) allow you sleep through the night every night of vacation so you’ll declare it a win (and make up for your lost calories in beer which you’ve recently discovered you like. . .a discovery that may or may not be related to the stress of the biting toddler).
Your husband will be in a borderline tizzy over the 5 page paper he has due in the middle of your vacation. You’ll reassure him multiple times it’s going to be fine – he’ll get it done, he hasn’t failed a class or assignment yet, other words of encouragement go here. He’ll continue to stress out; you’ll continue to drink beer. Again, it’s a win.
Your parents will find your toddler’s antics hilarious and retreat to their side of the timeshare to live in peace and laugh about parenting karma. A real win if you will.
Your sister will use her skills of oblivion to ignore the chaos reigning around her. She will also wisely choose to ride with your parents rather than with you and your toddler. If anyone asks, she’s the real winner of this vacation.
You will wake up each morning hopeful this is the day your toddler accepts the nap and your husband calms down only to be disillusioned by 10 am. You’ll spend the rest of the day praying there’s not a full blown meltdown from either while also trying to enjoy your majestic mountain surroundings of wild turkeys and idiots stalking bears in a field, along with your hike straight up a mountain to the concrete ribbon of death. A miracle will happen and the meltdowns will be avoided, the idiot will not be eaten by the bear (I assume – we didn’t stick around to watch it play out), and the vacation will be declared a success. You’d call it a win, but by this point, you’re really too tired. . .and too busy drinking a beer.