I need a vacation from my vacation

We’re baaaaack. We survived! Other than a sore and bruised chin on Theo from the night he fell off his bed and smacked his face on the tile floor, we managed to make it through a week on the Big Island without injury nor sunburn (for the most part). On the last day I got a wicked chemical burn on one side of my eye (I think I touched something and rubbed my eye) and have a cold sore from burned lips; the BF has a bad cold and a worse ear infection that has made him miserable since Saturday. But the kids are ok! 

The volcano proved to be more of a cock blocker than an attraction; we couldn’t get anywhere near it or the fissures (despite the BF’s futile attempts, which caused a huge fight), and with the volcano museums and parks closed, after a few days of beach going we ran out of things to do.

When you travel with little kids, there is a small window of things they’ll actually be interested in - being The Big Island, there was too much driving back and forth from coast to coast, and only a handful of child friendly beaches. 

With all this said, though, we did have a good time - we saw lots of sea turtles, did plenty of swimming and playing in the water, caught frogs, the kids tolerated the long drives well, and the BF and I had a nice anniversary dinner (three years!), I had a nice 46th birthday, and my sister watched the kids one night while the BF and I did a nighttime manta ray dive which was excellent.

There are soooo many things I’d do differently if I were to travel with these boys again - despite my efforts, the lack of entertainment on the plane was a major problem, airport parking was a nightmare, and I always felt frazzled and forgot things despite my above average organizational skills. Just like childbirth, you just can’t be prepared enough for travel with small children.

My sister and I got to talk about our mother’s death and were very much on the same page - we feel at peace about it, largely because we already mourned her years ago. We both hate that she died alone, bitter, and no doubt in horrendous pain - there is nothing about that that’s ok. The autopsy was a bust - apparently she was too decomposed to determine cause of death, a fact that both horrifies and depresses me. She is cremated now. My sister will go retrieve her ashes sometime in the next few weeks. We’ll gather next June in Boston to scatter her ashes in the bay as we did with my aunt and uncle. And that, as they say, is that.

I am home now to the final three weeks of our summer camp schedule, my event heating up (so much to do I don’t even know where to start), and a non-functioning refrigerator. The repairman comes tomorrow. I’m praying he can fix it - if not, the only option at this point may be to buy a cheap used one to tide us over until it’s time to buy a new one for the new kitchen this fall. Austerity measures for the months we’ll have no kitchen have begun - I’ve bought a microwave scrambled egg cooker. The horror.