The post vacation blues, that is. That's what happens when you plan your vacation so early in the summer. Now I have the whole long summer before me with nothing really to look forward to. Sigh.
I'm going to divide my recap into the bad and the good and I'm going to get the bad out of the way first because really there was way more good than bad. And honestly? It's kind of like childbirth -- those bad memories are already fading.
Bad #1 - Punkin started seriously potty training on the Thursday before we left. Her teacher told us that she thought she was ready and for us to go ahead and get some underwear for her. Why is this bad, you ask? Have any of you been around a potty training toddler lately? One that is alternately FASCINATED and utterly repelled by the potty? One that has had a tiny taste of the ABSOLUTE POWER that she wields when she utters five simple words -- "I need to go potty." Why, with just those few words, she can make mommy stop whatever she is doing and search out the nearest bathroom. Where she can then make mommy's head spin around by declaring "I don't need to go."
THAT is how the first 48 hours of my vacation went. Thank God Mr. Daddy had selected a campsite that was right across the road from the restrooms. I swear I think I spent more time in the bathroom than I did on the beach. Finally, I just put her back in a pull up and everytime she said she had to go potty I told her it was too bad. I didn't believe her anymore -- she was the little girl who cried pee, though I think the lesson was mostly lost on her. Fortunately she didn't seem to have sustained any permanent damage by our backtracking as the potty training seems to be back on track (ha! did you see that? train-ing. back on track. get it? I crack myself up.)
Bad thing #2 -- boys, avert your eyes momentarily. Before we left I decided I needed to do a little grooming in the old bikini area, so I decided to try out Veet. For those of you unfamiliar, it's your basic depilatory that comes with a bladeless razor. I applied it to the bikini area (and only the area visible to the public!) and both of my legs, ankle to thigh. Hey, I thought, if this stuff works the way it claims, I won't have to shave the entire time we're gone. Score! Well. I'm not sure if I was allergic to something in the Veet, or if it was the combination of the chemicals and scraping a rubber squeegee across my body, but let me tell you, the outcome wasn't pretty. I jumped in the shower and washed most of it off. My legs were itchy and splotchy for about an hour, but my delicate bikini area was left a little...burned. I actually had scabs where small pieces of skin came off. Fortunately, salt water helps heal wounds and the beach was pretty much deserted. Not cool. Also? Not a good advertisement for Veet.
Bad thing #3 -- Bubba thought it would be awesome if he slept with Mr. Daddy and I slept with Punkin. Okay, fine. I was a little nervous about having them sleep on the pull out bed in the camper anyway. It was a little too near the stove for my taste. But I discovered something really weird while sleeping with Punkin. Her toes have MAGNETS in them. And there are also magnets in my RIBS. Weird, huh? I swear there was one night where she her feet seemed to be actively seeking either my ribs or my kidneys with her pokey little toes, depending on which side of my body I presented for slaughter, ALL.NIGHT.LONG.
Other than those three things, the trip was great.
We left Sunday morning about 8:00 and arrived at Hunting Island State Park near Beaufort, SC around 2:00. We were quickly greeted by the welcoming committee:
I was in the camper and heard Mr. Daddy say urgently and quietly, "Mommie, come out here." I walked out and this deer was standing in our campsite, eyeing the rope in Mr. Daddy's hand as though it were food. We held out the cheese crackers were eating for a snack and she came right up, just as pretty as you please. She (pretty sure it was a she) returned a couple of other times, once bringing another another young female and two ADORABLE spotted fawns. The fawns wouldn't get close enough for a picture, but the two older ones were a little jaded by tourists, I guess.
After the welcome wagon left, we hightailed it to the beach, eager not to waste a moment of our time there. And of course we had to carry the stuff. Fortunately, the pack mules came in handy:
Until, of course, the plastic bucket and the Styrofoam board got too heavy (insert whine here) and Mommy ended up carrying everything.
The beach was gorgeous and not crowded at all. Sandcastles were built, tans were acquired, shells were gathered. We were definitely the coolest people on the beach.
During our trip we visited the Lighthouse. Mr. Daddy and Bubba went up -- though Mr. Daddy is afraid of heights and Bubba would rather have a bee in his pants than climb up 175 stairs -- while Punkin and I waited outside. Fortunately it wasn't a long wait -- Mr. Daddy and Bubba only made it up one flight of stairs before retreating to solid ground.
We played on the playground:
We went to the beach every evening after supper. There were great tidal pools full of blue crabs, hermit crabs, fish, and all manner of aquatic life -- perfect for wading.
This was where Bubba learned to ride his bike with no training wheels. The sand at low tide was perfect for learning to ride -- hard enough to ride on, but soft enough not to scrape any knees!
Also perfect for practicing your surfing stance.
We made some memories. And it was good.
6 years ago