We Take Ourselves Everywhere We Go: Vacation
I ended up telling my kids (ahem especially ONE of them) this often, on this trip. This, "Remember: you take yourSELF everywhere you go," combined with: "You know, if you spend your time just looking for things to be dissatisfied about, you're going to have a miserable life." Trust me, I'm experienced. (Kids don't care, though. Experience Schlepsperience!)
Isn't that what it's all about, being a parent? In some ways, just trying to make sure your kids don't travel down those same roads you do. Seeing these unsavoury habits, ways of being, and just thinking ohmygosh where did this come from ohmygosh maybe it's actually MY FAULT! And then, also, trying to find the reality in there somewhere that no ohmygosh it's not ALL all your fault EVERY TIME. Just some of the time. A lot of the time? Remembering the old line from Seinfeld is helpful here, though: "People! They're the worst!" and just remembering that these little people are people, and people can be...the worst. I'm one of them. Remember that too, when you're a parent.
Vacationing isn't the bliss it's shown as on the ads, or on the shows, or in other people's lives. Like so much else! Children bicker. They show their worst selves. Parents bicker. They show their worst selves. Vacationing is just life, life somewhere else, stripped of some of it's other responsibilities. So, life magnified. Like a photo on your phone, where you put your fingers on it in a spreading kind of motion to really get in there and see something.
(Speaking of photos on your phones has anyone been tracking the evolution of camera faces? When did it move from "smile like a Miss America contestant" (a face you'd never naturally make) to "purse your lips and keep your eyes super serious" (also a face you'd never naturally make)? Zoom in on that!)
Vacationing: we look forward to it so much, and then our bubbles are easily burst if it's not what we looked forward to. We start with such pizzazz! Pizzazz that's slowly deflated. And then at the end I end up snapping at everyone while tying up the loose ends, snapping so as not to be sad that it's over. Cause THAT'S a super functional way to be! (Anyone else?)
Anyway, toward the end of our trip, I was doing that thing where I (too) complain: I wanted to walk around some more, I wanted to see this shop or do that thing, I wish you guys weren't complaining so much ughhhhh ohmygosh what would it be like to be here with NO KIDS---uh oh not a good road to go down as a parent BUT at the same time the kids were now hinting that they could just go back to our little red house (the house that started off as super awesome--to them--only to become a weird place that seemed haunted--to them--and they were making hints at OTHER, better places I could've chosen ughhhhh). The kids! They suggested that they could go back to our little red house, have dinner on their own, take care of Joey and all watch a movie together! I could hardly believe my ears: THEY had practically come up with and suggested this idea all on their own. I didn't have to feel guilty for secretly wishing for it! HOORAY!! (The little red house must not be that haunted to them...) Too bad the shops wouldn't still be open by this time, but hey you can't have everything, and hey us grown ups could get a date and some semblance of peace and quiet.
So, Simon and I quickly re-grouped at the little red house, and the kids sighed as we made sure one last time if all was good---they wanted us to JUST GO ALREADY twas obvious--and so we...ESCAPED! Freedom!!!
We walked, we held hands, we chatted, we looked around, we explored. We pushed no stroller. We monitored no one else's complaining or questioning about the itinerary the where when what how long why when are we gonna eat next. We just were. We just were together. And of course
it rained. It poured. Reminding us to be thankful that this was the first time on our trip--in the waking hours--that it was raining and pouring. (But why? Why now on our walk about town?)
We meandered along in our no-kids-freedom kind of way, but then realized we should maybe give some shape to this time together by finding somewhere to eat.
The first restaurant idea, though, we paused over. Maybe it wasn't the right one. I mean, I would've eaten there but Simon kept hesitating. Kept saying, "Well, but what about that other one?" and then looking at the menu longer in some kind of pretend indecision that really meant--to me--that we needed to go to the other one. (The choosing-the-restaurant-dance!) "Ok, how far away is the other one?" Not too far, in fact there was a fun little store on the way there that we got a little reprieve from the rain in (a shop! like I wanted! only no not that kind of shop but...ok!), and then when we came out we got a lucky double rainbow! A sign of more goodness to come! Ahhhhh Date Night. It was going well. Rejuvenating!
When we arrived at the restaurant, both settled with the understanding that this was the right one, we were seated immediately by a rushing hostess. Most of the tables were full. Good sign! Ok! Let's do this!
The environment was really cute and cozy. Bamboo, mirrors (always a hit with me, haha), a bit of a glamourous yet homey 80s feel to it. The menu looked great. Simon came to sit by me, so we could warm up and get that throw-back date feel in the booth. "Order anything you want, Love. My treat," he said.
We were even going to order dessert! It looked so good.
......
Fast forward an hour later: by now I'd asked Simon to sit across from me instead, ok? --"cause I want to see your face, it's easier to have a conversation this way"--he was easy going enough about it. You know how when you're together for awhile and you go on a date and you're at the restaurant and you're just sitting there like well...what do we talk about now? And phones make that even harder, with their simple escape plan just itching in your fingers. But, we were talking, we'd been talking, enjoying one another's company. It was just that now...an hour later, we were starting to get more and more agitated! Not at each other, thank goodness--at the restaurant! All we'd gotten by this point was the Thai Iced Tea I'd ordered! The iced tea that was followed by the water we'd initially asked for.
The waitress had been so thorough in taking our order, repeating it back to us for good measure, and to confirm which items we wanted prior to our meal: yes, the soup and the spring rolls first, please.
Fast forward that hour later, though, and WE STILL DIDN'T EVEN HAVE OUR SOUP! And no one was even coming to check on us, coming to follow up on anything, give us any reassurance. It was like we weren't even there. I had caught on early that the service was (probably) not going to be great (after they hurriedly seated us we waited for like 15 minutes for anyone to come check in with us again, at which point we were ready to order), and was looking around the room sending off vibes of hello is anyone going to come over here? To this table? Hello?! Simon, meanwhile, was giving them the benefit of the doubt, "Oh, they're just really slammed, they probably only have one guy back in the kitchen doing everything," and a variation on that theme to counter any time I let the hint of a complaint out again. But, that hour later he suddenly snapped, bursting out: "I'm SO HUNGRY! But it's like, now my stomach is just eating itself and I'm losing my appetite!" At this I knew it would be ok to take my assertive self a bit further and I waved over a waitress. "Do you know when our food is going to arrive? We ordered it like 45 minutes ago and we still don't even have our soup." Two minutes later and they brought us a salad on the house, plus our spring rolls. (...still no soup?...?)
The salad was...kinda not so great, and the spring rolls seemed to be filled with unidentifiable vegetable mush. We ate, though, but were beginning to fume a bit more. Our soup--part of our APPETIZER--still wasn't here. Isn't it just on a big pot in the back? Being just one of two soups they serve as a starter...were they making it from scratch close to closing time just for us? If so...why wouldn't anyone have told us that? I, not so suddenly as Simon but in my own low steady simmer to hotter and hotter and hotter to a boil way, said, "You know what that's it, I'm going to complain, I don't even want to eat here anymore!" And we both got up, went to the counter and got their attention. I said to one of the women--the one who'd brought us the not so great salad, "I hate to come across like a bitch, but we RARELY go out to dinner, and we left 4 kids back at home. We can't wait any longer for our food. It's been an hour and we still don't have our SOUP!" --at which point more of the staff came out of the kitchen, to apologize (ok, thanks), but also to have the nerve to tell us to WAIT a bit longer and our soup!! would be out soon. Simon said, "We'll pay for the tea and the spring rolls, but we're not staying for our other food"--I was nearly in tears. We were starving, but we had to go back to the kids. Our time was running out. Our coach was going to turn back into a pumpkin.
Once outside that restaurant I did yell many obscenities. I did find other things to be angry about and I laid into the first available victim (Simon). The rain had stopped, though. But Greta was phoning now, "Joey is crying. He really wants mama and he won't let me put him to bed"--"We're on our way" we told her.
Fast forward another 30 minutes or so and Joey was............fine when we got home. In fact, he didn't even want to go to bed and it took him forEVER to fall asleep (my job! pumpkin time had arrived!). We never ate any dinner that night. In fact, as I write this, 24+ hours later and I still haven't had a proper meal. My stomach never got the spicy warmth of Tom Yum soup and Thai Green Curry (the spiciest you can make it, please!). We never got to find out what the fried milk dessert tasted like.
...
(((I am NOT a restaurant complainer. I've worked in the service industry. I hope I'm not coming across like a princess. (But did you see my last post? Is there actually a theme here I'm slowly needing to uncover about myself? Parents? Is it your fault that I'm coming across entitled and bitchy at the restaurant? Hahahahahahaha. Mom: it's your fault I'm assertive. But no, neither of you are or were restaurant complainers and I did not just naturally inherit such a disposition.
Ok, glad that's settled.)))
...
I have GOT to say: as infuriating as that experience was, it's a great story. And I knew it would be even when it was happening. And, if it weren't for the huge amount of amazing vacationing dim sum I'd had earlier that day, that I was still full from, I would've been even more hungry. And even more hangry. Even more bitchy-I-mean-assertive! And, I have GOT to say: thank goodness the kids weren't with us during THAT restaurant experience. Yell that to the outside, like I yelled obscenities outside of the restaurant!
And the kids were so curious our story--like, what did you guys do? oh no that's awful about the restaurant (they genuinely cared).
But today, today it was time to go home. Once you know you're going to go home, you're ready. I mean, you know, in many ways. Like the anticipation of the trip, that bliss of home you sense is coming. Mixed feelings, yell at everyone to fight off the sad-trip-is-ending hanging over you. A little bit discombobulated, perhaps. I should've done this, I wish we'd done that, I shouldn't have said this, did I do enough, was I generous enough, will it be a good memory?
Will it be a good memory? A good story to tell and to keep safe? Well, I already mentioned the restaurant will be. Even with the whole obscenities yelling parts.
So yeah, the trip will be a good memory.
Even with
dissatisfied children. Dissatisfied children that are like a mirror to my own imperfections, and the imperfections of *People! They're the worst!*--in their insatiable need for more more more, better better better. Their/My need for now, it can't wait, I'm hungry and this is Not Going My Way!
Even with
teens. (Need I say more?)
The trip will be a good memory,
a great! one,
even.
...
PS In the end, the restaurant kindly offered to dismiss us without having to pay for a thing. We, I mean...he, saved like $100!
I guess that means he (still) owes me a date!
Don't worry, he knows :-)
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