A week or so ago, we took a family trip to San Diego, CA. My dad always said that when you take the kids with you, you really can’t call it a “vacation.” I’ve only had kids for about four years, but so far, I tend to agree with him.
We still have lots of fun on our family “trips,” don’t get me wrong. At the end, I still think it’s worth it. But I’m usually exhausted, rather than refreshed; and relieved, rather than reluctant, to get back to my own house and routine. Specifically, the kids’ routine.
I forgot about timezones until the day we were leaving. A sale combined with some vouchers we’d acquired last Spring led us to an impulse buy this past fall. “What’s the most appealing place on this list of destinations for under $100 per person each way? The sale ends at midnight.” Justin and I decided on San Diego; neither of us had been, and the biggest must-see attractions are kid-friendly. Why not?
In a way, it was a blessing that the timezones hadn’t crossed my mind earlier. I just would have worried about the adjustment more than I was able to this way. I couldn’t have switched the kids’ sleeping early–as though preparing for daylight savings–even if I’d wanted to try, because Miryam needed to be able to wake up in time for preschool all the way up to the day of our afternoon flight. We were just kind of doomed.
I planned to go into the trip having low expectations for sleep (even before realizing the timezone problem). I figured we would power through naptime at Sea World and the zoo, and catch up on sleep when we got home. However, even with my low expectations, the timezone was a curveball I just wasn’t ready for.
My kids are used to waking up around 7:00am in central time. The first morning, Friday morning, even after a napless Thursday of airports and airplanes, Luke woke up at 5:15 (pacific) and incidentally woke Miryam up, too. Let’s just say, Mama wasn’t ready to be up yet.
The weather forecast dictated where we were going each day. Friday was Sea World. Justin and I begrudgingly got out of bed and ready and found somewhere to eat breakfast, and we even had time to go check out the beach before hopping back in the car to make it to Sea World right when it opened. We stayed until it closed. No naps, again.
We met a local cousin for dinner at a tasty Mexican restaurant, exactly when the kids are usually in bed and almost asleep at home. Luke of course fell asleep in the car on the way. He was grumpy and thrashy and tantrummy when he awoke to my offering him a tortilla chip. Dinner time proved to be quite…eventful. Luckily, my cousin had kids of his own, and he didn’t show any embarrassment at my child’s decibel level. It was very gracious of him and appreciated by us.
The kids went to bed quickly, but arose even earlier the next morning. Why, oh why, did the windows facing the well-lit street and nearby rollercoaster have sheer curtains and no blinds??
When one’s toddler arouses one at 4:30am, one is at least understood—if not justified—for feeling a bit grumpy oneself. I tried to keep Luke quiet long enough so Miryam and Justin could sleep in a little more. Unfortunately, the extra sleep for Justin wasn’t worth my mood in having dealt with our early riser by myself. Breakfast was tense for all four of us.
We next went to the beach to feel the FREEZING COLD water on our toes, at which point Miryam got too excited, waded out too far, got startled by a slightly bigger wave, and fell into the surf and sand. Our beach excursion having thus been terminated in under ten minutes, we walked barefoot back to our lodgings and gave the kids a bath.
Most people would be sorely disappointed with rain all afternoon in southern California. I, however, was extremely grateful for the cloudy skies blocking some of the sunlight, so that the kids could nap, at 10:30am.
O, glorious naptime!
Luke slept without moving for four hours. Miryam also got a decent nap. I got to read my book. Justin got to snooze. We got a sliver of relaxing “vacation” on Saturday midday. We made it to mass that evening, and despite the multiple potty trips during, it was fairly pleasant and uneventful. Dinner that evening—the freshest seafood perhaps I’ve ever had—was markedly more enjoyable than breakfast had been that morning.
On Sunday morning, miraculously, the kids stayed in bed until 6:00! I actually woke up before them, and actually felt rested. I was beginning to appreciate that, at least, if we were going to be up with the sun, that meant we had time to not rush while getting ready and find a proper place for a full breakfast, where we could take our time sipping cappuccinos, and still make it to our day’s excursion right at opening time. We had a leisurely breakfast watching rollicking waves crash onto the beach, and still found good parking at the zoo.
Another day of 9-5 without stopping. Luke did get a power nap on my lap when we took the bus tour in the afternoon. The San Diego zoo is a beautiful zoo, by the way. It was worth the crazy expensive (for a zoo) price per person!
Fancy French food for dinner. It was a place where, in my before-kids life, I would have judged parents bringing their kids there. How can you justify paying these prices for probably picky, relatively ungrateful children? Well, I’ve learned, fancy food is actually more expensive when you’re paying a babysitter than when you’re letting your 2- and 3-year-old eat off your plate. Mom and Dad want escargot, so Miryam is eating escargot, too. Luke mostly just ate the side of buttered fettuccine I ordered with him in mind…and of course the lemon blueberry soufflé at the end. I actually apologized out loud to all the parents I’d judged in the past.
So after around 5+ miles of walking at the zoo and now a full tummy, it was a good thing I hadn’t ordered a glass of wine, or Justin would have been completely on his own with bedtime that night.
So. Exhausted.
Monday morning was our last. We went back to our favorite of the breakfast places, got there when they opened at 8:00, then went down to the cove to hunt seashells. Except, the tide was exceptionally high, and there wasn’t actually any beach to be seen. Instead, we watched the native/wild seals and sea lions, and took turns guessing which waves would splash the highest as they hit the cliffs. And we still had plenty of time to make it to the airport for our noon flight.
So, really, the timezone change enabled us to make the absolute most of the mornings, even though evenings ended challengingly. And the kids slept in late for a few days after getting home, too. Not a total loss, then.
Have you traveled with kids to other time zones? Any hilarious or tragic stories arising from that? Please share in the comments below.
You have a beautiful family. 🙂
And your writing…sheer enjoyment. <3