Done and done

We're heading home tomorrow, four days early. I called United to see what would be involved in changing my flight, and to see if there even was a flight. It's only going to cost $100 and there's a flight leaving at noon tomorrow. Done!!!

This morning I endured the torture of packing the whole room up in anticipation of being shifted to another room, with a toddler unpacking it as fast as I could pack it, then waiting around for help while he climbed the walls. Thankfully people did come to help me move all our crap to a holding room while I checked out, then I thought I'd hang around with the family with kids, but then they all started fighting so I lost it and dragged B away, kicking and screaming. Some of the (very uptight and unfriendly) older members of this group were chastising B and barking at him "big boys don't cry!" It was another awful start to the day.  I sat in the car with B still screaming, Theo wailing away as always, and the air conditioning blasting, with again no plans of any kind, and burst into tears. It was at this point that I decided it was time to go. 

Ironically, once the flights were changed and everything was settled and I decided to let go of trying to meet up with anyone, the three of us had a very pleasant day. We went to a nifty farmer's market and had a nice lunch, then drove to a lovely cove beach where we spent much of the day. It was so mellow and safe I could even let B on his own and didn't have to hover over him every second. If only I could have put Theo down for two seconds I could have gotten in the water with B and we could have had a blast playing together...but no. 

Got back to the timeshare, gathered up all my stuff and painstakingly moved it to my new room with baby on chest and toddler in tow - tons of people watched me struggling but nobody offered to help; these people suck - another hot, exhausting affair. Was reminded how glad I am I cut this puppy short and am leaving tomorrow. 

Did anyone from the group check in with me at all today? Nope. Apart from one mother/daughter combo we ran into this evening to whom I want to donate all my unopened food, I'm not even going to tell anyone I'm going. What's the point? 

Had another Rube Goldberg-esque evening of trying to get the baby to sleep while Bumpus rampaged around, then had to figure out dinner, then tooth brushing, then bathing us both, packing up for tomorrow's departure, calming the hysterical woken-up baby, then getting toddler down to bed...ugh! And it'll be another long night of hour-on-the-hour feeding for Theo, no doubt. 

I have not decided if I'm going to mention my early departure on Facebook or not. I actually really don't want my hosts to feel bad. They didn't do anything wrong; I just got in over my head. It just goes to show what a liar Facebook is; it shows awesome happy pictures like this one, making you think we're having the time of our lives. But you people know the truth.