A vacation going nowhere

The boys were on vacation this week. That means that if you didn't board a plane to head some place tropical and warm, or if you didn't take a road trip some place north to put your boot prints on some mountain because one of you was afraid he'd surely break a leg again, you prayed you'd survive the week with the kids home from school and that you wouldn't be bargaining with God to let you stick needles in your eyes if he could make the week fly by because you know it would be far less painful.

Winter break, as in, "let's see if my tolerance will break". You have to realize that having four very active boys between the ages of 4 and 11 will inevitably cause you to toughen up. Like it or not, your tolerance level becomes stronger for boys who feel the need to wrestle with each other until one eventually winds up hurt and subsequently whining, or who simply must embark on an adventure over the river and through the woods and test the strength of the layer of ice covering the swamps, bringing home muddy and soaking proof that although it may seem like winter couldn't get any colder and will never allow spring to arrive, it must be getting warmer. At least a little.

So the extra doses of whining and sibling rivalry eventually wear you down because there is no light at the end of the tunnel. You can't silently, or even loudly, announce your heartfelt gratitude to God and teachers and other parents who missed their flight or had to cancel the road trip that tomorrow they'd be back in school because tomorrow is another vacation day. Like yesterday was, and the day after tomorrow will be. Who, in their right mind, would ever dare to call it a "vacation"? It's a vacation from routines, and even if within that routine you are doing the chore you have always loathed, you welcome it nonetheless.

I detest "February vacation". Probably because not once has the month of February in my 40 calendars ever seen a notation of me going anywhere south. The summer clothes are packed away in October and don't see the light of day again until at least April. I just think March might be a better time for teachers to take this week off. After all, in two months the boys will be enjoying their April vacation, but by then, so will I because we can enjoy more outdoor activities. Just think of the soggy muddy mess they can track in from their adventures over the river and through the woods then!

The boys did enjoy some extra-curricular activities this week. Tommy went snowboarding. They have had friends sleep over. We've been to the movies. They even took a ride to the beach today and came home with treasured stones and weathered beach wood. We have done our part to boost the economy some by getting take-out and renting movies. When they return to school and are asked what the best part of their vacation was, they certainly won't have nothing to say.

And then they can start counting down the days to April vacation, which for us, will be another week where no hotels or airlines will have reservations with our names because we'll be out in the yard, in the woods, on the trail, celebrating not a week off from school, but the wonderful season of spring. We won't even mind if it comes early.

And you know what? I don't care that we aren't taking a trip somewhere. We will probably do a whole lot of not much, just like this week. And the boys will probably whine and fight and test my patience and at the end of the week, I'll be glad that they will be heading back to school, but I will love them more than I did the day before because I will have had another second, another minute, another day with them. No matter how many times I tell myself I can't take another minute, I will remember how fortunate I am to have them in my life, to fill my days with love, joy, laughter, even pain. Because some children won't have their mom to drive crazy and some moms won't be there to thank God and teachers that the kids are going back to school.

I may detest this week, but I never lose sight of where I might otherwise be if they weren't in my life and I'll take a week of sibling rivalry between four precocious boys over a week alone in some tropical paradise. Okay, I would so take that week, but I know I'd miss them and would be eager to return home to them and would count my blessings, all four of them plus my husband, my home, and our health. Because some children won't have a mom or a dad or a home or good health. I get that, I do. And every once in a while, the story of some stranger
will resonate in my heart and mind, a vivid reminder that even if we aren't fortunate enough to go on vacation, we have each other and that's more important than getting to pack a bathing suit in February.