Kiawah Island 2011
If a genie came out of a lamp right now and offered me 3 wishes, they would all involve going back to the beach house on Kiawah Island and never ever leaving (after the wish for more wishes. DUH.) I would need the extra wishes to cover the bazillion dollars for maintenance and the electric bill and the toilet paper delivery guy. Because people who own beach mansions on gated islands can’t be expected to purchase their OWN toilet paper. If you happen to know of any genies looking for work, please send them my way.
(Totally unrelated side note except for the genie thing: we’re watching Aladdin right now with the kids for the first time as a way to ease back into home life and I am proud to report I can still recite all of it from memory.)
Leading up to this vacation, E was kind of…what’s a nice way to say “suffering from an epic eye-rolling condition?” I would say “Yah the BEACH!” and he would say “Blah, I hate sand.” I would say “I heard they have a fully stocked liquor cabinet!” and E would say “They sell beer in Connecticut.” I would say “It will be so nice to get away!” and he would sigh and say “But we have to drive SO FAR.” He was like Vacation Eeyore.
But besides a few screamy moments from the kids in the car – truly just a FEW and pretty justified on their part after so many hours strapped into carseats – it was the perfect vacation. It took E less than 10 minutes to be totally on board with the whole thing and become Vacation Dora The Explorer. “WOW! LOOK AT THIS POOL! IT IS GREAT! DON’T YOU LOVE THIS POOL? I LOVE POOLS! AGUA!”
I already mentioned that my friends were great with my kids, but it also helped that my kids were REALLY REALLY well behaved. All my (not unreasonable) fears about the toddler escaping the house and falling in the pool or running down to the beach proved unnecessary and he was more than happy to just hang out with whatever adult’s arms were currently empty. And besides the sleeplessness related to a brand new top tooth, Caroline was a tiny ginger angel who did nothing but coo and make doe-eyes at everyone. It FELT like a vacation, even with a 2-to-2 parent-child ratio, which is pretty damn amazing.
This here is the part where I post fifty bazillionty photos of the beach and the beach house and brag until you want to punch me in the face, so if you’re currently in your third straight year of never having a vacation that doesn’t involve sleeping on an air mattress while visiting your in-laws in Tulsa you might want to click away. I would totally hate you for going on this vacation too.