Perhaps Belinda and the Go’s Go’s said it best? Not that I’m old enough to know that 80’s song or all of the lyrics or remember them water skiing in the video—ahem—but, I digress. However, the question posed is one I’m pondering today, is vacation meant to be spent alone?
I have just returned from a family vacation. For me, that included packing up and moving this five-person circus through an airport, an airplane, multiple Ubers and two hotel rooms. This was our summer “trip.” I make that distinction because we are usually fortunate enough to take one “vacation” and one “trip.” The difference, as I define it, is that the “vacation” usually involves a beach (easy for us based on geography), no scheduled activities, lots of lounging, an excessive amount of day drinking and the occasional nap.
This “vacation” agenda is fairly easy for our family. We are good at relaxing; perhaps it’s genetics? But, my kids will sit by the pool or beach and read a book or throw a ball at each other for hours and not get bored. Of course, there is the occasional request to go back to the room to play some form of video game, but we just laugh those off (see earlier reference to day drinking).
What we just returned from is the “trip” portion of our programming. Since the littlest was about 5 years-old, we’ve been trying to take a few days to do a city each summer. These trips have been great and our kids talk about them all the time and I feel like we’re affording them an amazing opportunity to see culture and other walks of life, but, it can be grueling.
Don’t get me wrong, the overall feeling is one of gratitude. Even today, I’m left with the overwhelming feeling that we all had a great time, we’ve made awesome memories and it was all completely worth it. But, there may have been a time or two during the “trip” that I found myself very angry at every member of my family and seriously questioning why we waste a single dollar or a hot minute doing any of this.
So, I’m trying to figure out what I could do better or differently to avoid those feelings of vacation rage and be my best most authentic self without using a litany of four letter words in my head. What’s the cause of this vacation rage? I’ve broken it down into a few areas.
Transition
Transitions are difficult no matter who you are, but I think for small people they can be even more daunting. In this scenario, we basically remove the small people from a summer schedule that involves a whole lot of nothing (I’m a big believer in summer downtime, but that’s another story for another day) and stick them in a city with no less than 456,354 things to see and do and we’ve got 4 days to do it. It’s like the amazing race but the participants are more like hostages than contestants.
This summer’s city was Chicago. An amazing city filled with the most gracious people and so much to see and do. Now, hear me out, we don’t aggressively program the city vacay. We don’t do organized tours and really only try to see 2-3 things per day that are actually interesting to our children. But, even that can be overload to little people, let’s be honest—the adults don’t do so well either.
Unrealistic Expectations
And, now, a day removed I realize that what we asked of everyone was A LOT. We were all on the go from about 8 a.m. to 4 p.m., with breaks for meals. We had a couple hours of downtown (read:ipad) before dinner –where the adults may have taken a nap, because we are on vacation and I am living my best life–and then we were out way past everyone’s bedtime. Oddly, people had extreme moments of crankiness, general snappiness and bad attitudes intermittently throughout the “trip”. I wonder why?
We were all tired. We were doing and seeing a lot and getting up the next day and doing it all over again. Did I mention, we were all tired? We may not have been the best versions of ourselves at every single second of the day. I can see now, with the gift of hindsight, that my children are not actually ingrates with no appreciation for the world around them. I am able to breathe a sigh of relief that I’m not really raising animals that have no desire to explore and learn and do cool things—they were just TIRED.
No Chill
The other problem with the “trip” for me is that I have no chill. Touring museums and going to restaurants and crossing city streets, for me, requires me to be in somewhat full parenting mode. I feel the need to remind everyone to: put their napkin on their lap, wait your turn, don’t put your feet on that, stop touching each other, lower your voice. This is a short annotated list, but you get my drift. I really want to be the cute overall wearing mom who lets her kids climb on top of the 67 million year-old fossil while snapping pictures and smiling at how flipping adorable they are, but I’m not. I’m the mom that says do not touch ANYTHING with a rope, be respectful of what you’re seeing and for the love of all that is sacred, STOP TOUCHING EACH OTHER!!
I really want to be overall mom. I do. I want to focus more on all of the joy and less on all of the things. I want to take in every moment and enjoy it, I want to see my kids for the awesome little people they’re becoming and not count the minutes until lunch and a glass of Sauvignon blanc. So, what am I doing wrong?
Am I completely lacking self-awareness if I say nothing? I am always working on my patience with my kiddos and trying to set a good example, but, I’m also trying to ensure that they grow into the best version of themselves. So, although I will try to work on managing my frustration, I probably will never stop telling them to speak kindly, be grateful, look people in the eye and look out for each other. And, for me, that’s ok. Because, for every instance of frustration I felt there were at least five to ten instances where I looked at one of them and thought—man, these kids are the coolest. They’re going to be ok, they’re going to go out into the world and be good thinking, feeling people.
So, I probably will never be overall mom—but she should keep rocking her chill and her overalls, because I’m sure that works for her. I’m going to give myself permission to do it my way because it seems to be working for me. Except the touching each other thing!? Nothing is working there–how do I make them stop that??
Webster’s defines a job as: the work that a person does regularly in order to earn money; a duty, task or function that someone or something has; something that requires great effort.
I had a job once. I’ve actually been the proud owner of several jobs. I guess, by definition, I still have one. However, the first part of the definition regarding money, sadly, no longer applies.
But, let me think this through. I definitely have duties, tasks and functions and they all require great effort. I am lucky enough to stay at home with my three children. I’ve been doing so for about the last nine years. But, as my baby heads off to full-time school, I find myself thinking, “Maybe I should get a job?” You know, like the first one, the one that actually pays money.
I’ve mentioned this to a few of my friends and they looked at me like I was crazy. I think the exact words were “Why the hell would you do that?” and “What for?” I get it. When I stopped working I was over the work/family balancing act and ready to quit. But now, why can’t I dip my toe back into the workforce? My super supportive friend said, “What are you even going to do?”
And I guess, friends, that this is the million dollar question. So, my previous experience in marketing and sales in corporate America is still there and I’m pretty sure that part of my brain would kick in after a venti Starbucks and some time with adults. But, what if I could utilize some of the skills from this current position? As I reflect upon my daily tasks and functions, I start to think of what new and exciting opportunities my new-found skill set will bring me. Here’s what I came up with—
- Prep Cook—Now, notice, I didn’t say chef. Because while I’m actually a pretty good cook. I don’t do any “cooking” currently. Now, I’m more in the business of preparing meals with a minimal amount of ingredients that three out of five people will eat without complaining. Three out of five is winning in my house. And, I also didn’t say three out of five have to like it or find it especially appealing. If three out of five of the human beings here will finish 80 percent of it without crying or giving me some five-minute diatribe of why they don’t like green beans I am a success. I also perform this task quickly and under pressure a lot of the time—like when I have to make three lunches and breakfasts at the same time but am thirty minutes behind because someone can’t find a belt. So, preparing mass amounts of ingredients while being left completely alone with no one talking to me or asking me where their mouth guard was, no-brainer. I think I might actually enjoy that—mostly the being alone part.
- Taxi dispatcher—I can get three people to three different places at the same time, that’s got to count for something. I have to analyze the geographical and time constraints all while pooling my resources. It usually involves some kind of trade or barter, like if you take my kid to soccer, I’ll take yours to ballet, then we’ll both be where we need to be at the same time, thus cheating the universe and the space-time continuum. So, how hard can it be to tell a bunch of drivers with only one person to transport where to be and when? I’m also really good at telling people what to do and feel like this could offer a pretty flexible dress code—this one might be a slam dunk.
- Hostage Negotiator—Have you ever successfully gotten a three-year old girl to put her shoes on after she swears they don’t fit? How about made one cupcake feed three kids? I’m just saying that this is a skill set you can only learn by doing. If you’ve ever spent any time with small children you’ll know that there is no one more hostile, volatile and generally unreasonable. If I can get these people to follow (mostly) the rules of society and live in the same house without daily bodily injuries that require hospitalization, I think I can make anyone see reason. This may be what my latest career has left me most qualified for—I’m sure it’s flexible, possibly open to telecommuting? Is there a background check for this sort of work?
Maybe I’ll keep looking…
The phrase middle-aged has always summoned a feeling of dread and mediocrity—like a horrible period of general malaise, grey skies and cubicle dwelling drudgery. I’m not sure why this phase of life has gotten such a bad rap. I feel like it may be making a comeback with all of the “40 is the new 20” initiatives. Most likely this is because those of us that were dreading it at twenty are now in our forties and have realized that a strong marketing campaign can change our minds.
The truth of the matter is that most people I know that are in their forties are the happiest, most comfortable they’ve ever been with themselves. They’ve figured out what’s really important to them, they’ve stopped caring so much what other people think, they’ve realized that there are very few things that are truly a crisis—it’s a liberating time. So, I submit that it’s not our age at middle age that can be so daunting, but rather what is happening around us. It’s being in the middle that’s so hard.
This phase of life, for most of us, has us established in career and a family. We’ve spent a good deal of our adult life building these things and now a lot of them are “in place” we’re no longer in the acquisition phase—that’s a strange departure from the first phase of adulthood where were trying to attain the job/house/family/expertise we so greatly desired. Most of us have something now that we’ve worked for and our proud of; something that we are terrified of losing.
Thus, begins the gripping phase or maintenance. Instead of taking a chance on a new career, we stay with what we know because we’ve built this life that requires us to support it. Rather than admit we’d like to change the dynamic of our life we hold on, white knuckling it because if we lose any piece of this puzzle we worked so hard to put together, what will we do? What will happen then? But, the irony is if we hadn’t taken chances and tried things we more than likely would have never ended up with the life we’re so hell-bent on maintaining.
Also, the newness of everything has worn off. It was exciting and challenging to figure out a career path, there were lots of things that constantly got us excited. Now, we are most likely more established and the success we achieved may have left us without as many things to look forward to in the future. We may feel like there’s not a lot of mountain left to climb or if there is something we’d like to pursue it’s now so far out of our comfort zone, it terrifies us.
Then there’s the familial aspect. For those of us that are married, the beginning of marriage is exciting and fun, filled with unchartered territory. You buy your first house, you go on your first real vacation, you host holidays—you are legitimized in your adulthood and it feels fantastic. Now, in the middle, those same things bring to you a feeling of dread and responsibility. You love your house, but the maintenance is a constant source of frustration, you want to travel to exotic lands, but your kids have a soccer tournament every weekend and you love the holidays but they now require a pre-game cocktail and a fun game where you and your spouse see how quickly you can shove turkey down everyone’s throat and get them to leave. Why? Is it because we’ve now just done these things so many times we can no longer appreciate them? Where is the joy and excitement we once felt?
The most daunting part of this phase of life to me is your place—in the middle. You have children that are probably not adorable little babies, but are now growing into young adults—you can see this happening—it’s like a perverse magic show the Universe is putting on. The worst part is you are equally scared that they will grow up and leave you or that they will grow up and never leave you—I’m not sure which is worse (ok, that’s not entirely true the never leaving is way worse, but the leaving still makes me sad).
Also, the decisions we make with these not fully formed humans seem more important because you can see them as almost a full functioning human, you know that your words/actions/inaction have a profound impact on them—no pressure. So, again the newness, preciousness and sleepless nights of an infant have been traded for the eye rolling, internet monitoring, sleepless nights of a teenager. They have ideas and opinions and can utilize technology more efficiently than you, you can see how at some point they will, in fact, be much smarter than you and you will become your parents who still can’t operate a universal remote control.
And, that brings me to your parents. I think this one is the absolute hardest part about the middle. No matter what kind of relationship you have with your parents, you only have two, so their place in your life is unchallenged. At this phase in life most of our parents have aged in a way that we clearly notice. They forget things, they have no idea how to send a text, they start reminding you of your own grandparents. Their friends are plagued with various ailments, which you get to hear about on the regular—“poor Mrs. Adams just had to have her gallbladder removed.” Some of their lifelong friends are dying and you can see how that affects them. You feel their pain as they lose a piece of their past while simultaneously staring at their own mortality. Some of them may be sick themselves and require care–that lands on your shoulders. Too many of them have already been ill and passed away and we’ve had to witness the first important people who have always been a constant in our life drift out of it.
This middle is aptly titled. You are (hopefully) in the middle of your life, (if you have them) you’re in the middle of raising children and you’re in the middle of watching your parents age. There is something profoundly constrictive about the whole thing. We feel responsible to so many different people and, at the same time, we have half of a life to plan! I sometimes picture this part of life as the stretchy Gumby-like toys my kids get in the birthday party goodie bags I loathe—they stretch and stretch that sucker and it usually doesn’t break, but every once in a while, that thing snaps like a twig and flicks them right in the face.
I want everyone to stop pulling. I’ve been stretched and stretched and I’d like just a week or two off of the stretching. But, let’s be honest, it ain’t happening. Life will always march on whether we’re ready to be pulled on or not. Our careers will take a million turns, some unexpected and others perfectly plotted. Our children will grow into adults and we will all do our very best to make sure that they enter into that phase as intelligent, loving, kind human beings. Our parents will age and will leave us and we will hate everything about that. So, we should enjoy them while they’re with us and help them change the channels and pray that those kind-hearted kids we raised do the same for us.
Welcome to Most Of The Middle!
This a blog that I’ve been writing in my head and verbalizing with my girlfriends for years. So, the fact that it’s actually happening is both thrilling and terrifying.
It’s meant to be a place where all of us that are in the middle of it—whether it be raising a family, starting a business, taking care of parents–can gather and realize that there is a way through it. Not only is there a way through it, there’s a way to make the most of it–to enjoy life while doing all of the things–to not let any one chapter define us, but to keep constantly revising our story.
So, I hope that we get to make each other laugh, know that we are all in this together and maybe even inspire each other.
xoxo,
Jules