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Broke Wife, Big City
My post-vacation apology
By Aprill Brandon

To my dearest, dearest children,

You two are the light of my life. I love you both so much. Which is why I’m writing this even though it’s...difficult. Very difficult. For me. Your mother. To admit this. But it’s important you know this so…

Sigh...

Listen up and listen hard because you will never hear this ever again.

I was wrong.

Long exhale...

BUT I AM RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING ELSE. AND ALL FUTURE THINGS. ALL OF THEM.

But yes, I was wrong about this ONE thing. You guys were actually wonderful on our recent vacation.

I spent all that time moaning and whining about how awful I expected you guys to be, the likely sleepless nights we’d share, the public tantrums you’d likely have, the running off and disappearing into the ocean you’d likely do, tarnishing my reputation as a mom forever.

And then...nothing. You guys behaved. And were charming and sweet and loving. It was like living in one of those old black and white photos of the Kennedy family on the beach.

Now, in my defense, it’s easy to assume the worst when it comes to your children. Because I’ve seen your worst. On multiple occasions. And I think we can all agree that when it’s bad, it’s BAD. So bad. All the bad.

The dual meltdowns in restaurants where I have to scream to the waitress over your screaming “AND THE KIDS WILL HAVE A GRILLED CHEESE AND I’LL HAVE AN ENTIRE BOTTLE OF JACK DANIELS, THANKS!” The waiting in line at the store where you’re hitting each other but not the normal little kid hitting. Oh no. The “reenacting scenes from ‘Atomic Blonde’” level of hitting (no more playing with the remotes anymore, by the way, kids). And, my personal favorite, the dinner time “I don’t want corn!” freakouts that end with me screaming so loud I’m worried my neighbors now know what kind of mom I actually am.

But nope. This vacation was everything a vacation is supposed to be. Fun. Exciting. Even, believe it or not, relaxing.

I mean, you slept. You both slept. Through the night. Every night. Every other vacation we’ve ever had we let you guys sleep in the same room as us because we thought “aw, they’re so little, they’ll be too scared.” And then you guys cried and whined and crawled in our bed and continued to cry and whine and kick and squirm in our bed.

But this time we got you two your own room to sleep in. And BOOM. Out like a light.

Who knew the key to getting you to sleep in a foreign location was to lock you away and make you think you had been abandoned forever?

You didn’t complain about the food. You even ate some of it. Which allowed me and your dad to eat. And eat we did. We ate everything. We ate whatever is the scientific amount of calories you can eat in one sitting without dying. And we did it three times a day. Every day.

You occupied yourselves. You played together. Without us. Which allowed us to sit back and drink wine from the big fancy box we brought like the big fancy people we clearly are. 

You were polite to every cashier, every waiter, every little old lady who stopped and gushed over your red hair for 15 minutes.

You were...simply wonderful.

Which leads me to the conclusion that, clearly, the key to an amazing vacation is to dread it. (And to put that dread into writing. And post it online. For all to see.)

And as such, I look forward to dreading many more vacations with you.

Love,
Momma
 
Can’t get enough of Aprill? Can’t wait until next week?
Check out her website at http://aprillbrandon.com/



 
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