So of course the flight back was torture but we survived. I suppose people have flown on their own with two + kids before...but I wouldn't recommend it. You really do have to be an octopus. It verges on the physically impossible, and reminds me again of the Jim Gaffigan joke about what it's like having four kids - "imagine you're drowning, then someone hands you a baby."
My host called as I was at the airport, having gotten wind of my departure. He said he was mortified - I would have been, too - but I think I convinced him it wasn't their fault. Sure, it would have been better had our families spent time together going to beaches. But I still would have had to contend with the stressful room situation with no baby proofing and juggling the two while trying to cook, shower, etc. And with three days of rain, ugh!
I guess what I learned from this trip is you must travel door to door with someone who's sole purpose is to help you - either a dedicated friend, family member, or paid sitter. They need to fly with you, help haul crap, help with the kids as a group, and even take the kids entirely so you can have a moment to yourself. Otherwise it's just not worth it.
Last night I got the kids to bed and made a little dinner and watched TV for about an hour before crashing myself. It was the first second alone I'd had since last Tuesday. It was divine. I don't know how people - especially stay at home moms - handle toddlers and babies that stay up as late as they do, so there's never a moment to yourself. I would lose my mind!!! Thank God for early bedtimes, separate bedrooms, and toys. I've had a glimpse at life without them, and it is not pretty.