Lenny and I just spent five days at one of the most luxurious resorts in Cabo. (Read: No kids allowed on the majority of the property). We didn’t consciously plan to escape our reality, it was his company’s club trip. A trip that was hard earned, and a wonderful reward for all of his traveling, long hours and dedication last year. (And I like to think my long hours and dedication on the home front as well.)
I’m not going to lie. I was nervous about leaving the kids. Really nervous. (The ten pages of typed directions, overflowing fridge and collection of daily goodies/notes for the kids were proof.) But our wonderful nanny and my brave mom—with the help of many kind friends along the way—had everything under control.
We relaxed, we ate, we drank, we danced, we swam, we spa-ed, we enjoyed being spoiled rotten (and the event planners made sure we were—at every turn). It came and went all too quickly, and now we’re home with little more than our tans and some lovely souvenirs to prove we were ever away. And while I will certainly miss the carefree, breezy beach vacation, I find myself drawing surprising parallels now that we’re home.
Waking up to the sounds of the waves crashing on the shore and the warm sun put my soul at ease and made me smile.
Waking up to the sounds of a quietly babbling baby then a definitive, “Ah duh!”—her best attempt at “all done”—filled my heart with joy and made me laugh.
Oh how I loved walking along the sand, collecting itty-bitty seashells.
Oh how I loved walking through our tree-lined neighborhood, watching Little collect stick after glorious stick.
I was basking in solitary moments—uninterrupted—lost in thought-provoking novels with deep characters and twisting plot lines.
I was basking in needy limbs—constantly interrupted—as Big took on his new library book filled with silly characters and word play.
Very few things are as relaxing as lying on a plush lounge chair, only lifting a finger to sip the fresh ice water or fish tacos that magically appeared in front of me.
Very few things are as relaxing as lying on our soft couch, typing away as Little’s body melts into mine, and he finally dozes off for a few quiet minutes.
Dancing to MJ, Rihanna and the stellar karaoke stylings of my new friends, had me laughing and moving with wild abandon.
Dancing to Alvin, Simon, Theodore and the Chipettes had me remembering just how much fun it is to watch my kids laughing and moving with wild abandon.
Hearing Lenny’s SVP share the accomplishments of the team members at the awards dinner was an amazing reminder that a compliment—especially shared in the company of others—is a true gift.
Hearing Big, Little and Pink help each other, laugh together and kiss goodnight is an amazing reminder that having siblings—even during squabbles—is a true gift.
Watching Lenny come home and jump right in with the kids allowed me to remember the many reasons they adore him.
Oh, I’ll look back on this vacation and wish myself away to the magical suite with the vast patio overlooking the water and our very own private hot tub. I’ll long for the serenity of palm trees swaying and waves crashing. I’ll wish someone was delivering me a mid-morning fruity cocktail and asking if I need anything else. Because of course, the answer is always yes.
I’ll look back on this time fondly and look forward to the idea that we might do it again someday. But until then, I’ll do my very best to get caught up in the every day moments that take my breath away. Because between the rushing and arguing and tattling and whining, every day has a little bliss waiting to be discovered. Not in the obvious, over-the-top way an extravagant vacation does, but in the quiet, unassuming way that is life. My life. And I’ll be glad I’m right where I belong—right here at home.