Most of my life summer vacation has been about going somewhere, staying only a few days, because that's all we could afford, and then cramming as much as possible into those few days. It wasn't really vacation, it was work. This year, bold and daring person that I am, I invited my mom, my dad and stepmother to go with Jose, Franklin, Elijah, Isaiah and I on vacation. I really want my kids to have some memories of doing stuff with their grandparents, like I did. But unlike my grandparents, my parents worked, or are now in poor-health, and not really the cookie making, bread baking kind of people. And that's o.k., because there are very few people out there who could match Grandma Walker anyway, what a high standard to have lay down for all to follow.
I'm pretty sure that every adult member of the party was approaching the vacation with trepidation. My parents because they were dreading having to spend a lot of time, 24 / 7 with small children who were bound to be cranky, and myself, for having to be caught in the middle between cranky old people and cranky young people and knowing that there would be no escape, unless I could trap Franklin into babysitting, cause God knows Jose wouldn't (he'd be too busy napping on the couch).
Suprisingly, the entire event went off very well. The place that we rented was large enough that everyone had a place to be quiet by themselves. And there was a pool just by the front door, so the kids were able to spend the afternoon in the water, thus giving the adults a quiet place to find. There were snakes, lizards, frogs, bugs of all sorts, and a turtle. Really, the boys paradise. And though we werne't on the beach, we were close enough to get the ocean breezes - yet far enough that I didn't have to go traipsing down with the kids at 2:00 in the afternoon to swim again - which would have been a nightmare. Port St. Joe, barefoot cottages, is the place - very rasonable in case you want to go yourself.
