Friday, May 09, 2008

Worst vacation ever

I should have never listened to my silly mom and her hairbrained idea to visit my sister. “Wouldn’t it be great for us all to get together?” Sure, in theory. In reality, not so much.

I’ve never stayed over at my sister’s place before ever since we moved out of my mom’s house. Before her move to Houston, we’ve always been about an hour’s drive away. I had no idea what a terrible host she and her husband were. The first night we were there, I was lucky if I got even two hours of sleep. Since my mom was in their guest room, they blew up an air mattress and had us sleep in some open area they had upstairs with their exercise equipment. There was a huge curtainless window in the hall with a street light shining right into my eyes. But that’s not what kept me up. It was the constantly crying babies. Oh my god, every two fucking hours, wah wah wah.

My sister says that they’re not normally like that since they’re one and three years old. But because they were sick it made them all snotty, clingy and extreme pains in the ass. The following morning my sister was nowhere to be found, so my mom said our breakfast choices were outmeal or cereal. That was it. My mom makes terrible oatmeal, but she wouldn’t let me do it. She’s always been fussy to the extreme, and if you say something, she takes it personally.

At that point I was seriously looking into shortening my stay to a few days instead of a week. Unfortunately to change my flight plan would have meant an extra $400 for the two of us. My sweety had to make a valiant effort not to remind me every day that we could be enjoying our time so much more hanging out at home. It’s been awhile since I’ve felt so much regret over a decision.

My sister’s husband worked during the day, and she’s a stay at home mom. I can understand that having two sick kids is very distracting, and a husband is usually like a third child anyway. They all got sick with whatever virulent flu the kids picked up at the birthday party they went to before I arrived. I’m so glad I brought a bottle of vitamin C with me. I loaded up on that stuff the whole time I was there, and fortunately did not fall sick myself.

Our stay became a bit more pleasant once my sweety took over and made dinner a few times (which peeved my mom for some reason, I guess she prefers the mother hen role). They also took us to a few places around town, but traveling with toddlers definitely limits the fun factor for adults. I probably sound pretty selfish right now, but I really am annoyed that I wasted so many of my alotted vacation days visiting a family who was very much wrapped up in themselves.

Maybe it was the way I was brought up, with an overly fussy mom and all, but do toddlers really need to have their own rooms? I remember when we were kids, my mom would have us both sleeping on futons in her room when guests came to stay at our house. Is this normal, or is it more normal to stick guests wherever it won’t inconveniece you? Anyway, you can be sure I’m not going to be visiting them again for a long, long time.