We wanted a quick weekend getaway with some friends. We were going with the kids so it couldn’t be too far away and Santiago and Bear (that’s not his real name but I don’t think he’s into my website so for his privacy let’s go with Bear) have PTSD from our Disney trip. We decided to go to Key Largo. Quick enough drive, easy pool/beach vacay—done and done.
I had not considered, however, how much crap you have to take to accommodate two children ages two and under. Remember, I’m not at home, so I can’t just go downstairs to the kitchen to get more milk for Santi or food for Joaquin. I had to pack and plan and devise a plan. (Spoiler: I hate devising plans).
This was my suitcase only for Joaquin’s food and Santi’s snacks. Yes, that’s right. I have to travel with snacks for Santi because if he requests one, and I don’t have it readily available, he cries as if he’ll never experience joy again.
This is what my trunk looked like when I packed for two adults and two children. We were gone for 3 nights and it was a beach vacay—aka no jackets, no multiple outfits, nothing. Just bathing suits, cover ups, shorts and sunscreen. Oh, and a dock-a-tot, bottles, tetes, diapers, wipes, creams, and everything else a mother needs to survive.
I will say that the vacation was fun and as relaxing as it could be. I had just enough drinks to get me through the day but kept appropriately (and legally) able to tend for my offspring. It was almost the perfect vacation except for this one time Santiago ignored me.
Now, Santiago and I have been together since we are 18 years old. I am now 30, so that’s 12 years. And though this decade + 2, he’s learned to tune me out. Do I deserve it? Probably. Do I like it? No. Did it backfire this time? Yes.
Santiago was with Bear at the bar drinking and talking about how obsessed he is with me and he can’t believe I agreed to marry him. (This last part is speculation but it could be true). Anyways, Santi goes to hang with his dad because he almost always prefers him over me and I stayed in our lounge chairs (less than 20 feet away) feeding Joaquin. At this point, I’m sitting with my friend Chrissy and I see Santi standing on a barstool. Now, you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to know that a) this is a bad idea and b) this story ends exactly how you’re expecting it to.
A: Santiago, el niño.
S: (ignoring me)
A: Santiago, Santi is on the chair!!! Get him off.
S: (ignoring me)
A: Santiago he’s going to fall for real get him off.
Mind you, I’m yelling in Joaquin’s ear and in a resort where people are trying to relax. Anyways, Santiago finally answers me and tells me to calm down (typical) and I continue feeding Joaquin. The next thing I hear is Santi screaming at the top of his lungs, and a combination of “oh crap, oh no, oh God” coming from both Santiago and Bear.
I literally (literally, not exaggerating) threw Joaquin in Chrissy’s face and ran (in a bathing suit, 5 months post-partum) to get Santi. My biggest fear was that he broke a tooth. Luckily for me (I’m being extremely sarcastic here) he just hit his head super hard. Within 5 minutes he had a huge bump on his head that you could see a mile away.
To be honest, the most annoying part wasn’t that I knew him being on the stool was a bad idea or that eventually he would fall. It wasn’t even listening to Santiago go on and on about how sorry he was (because I knew he was). The most annoying part was having to listen to Santiago ask me 1,000 times if I thought Santi had a concussion. Do I look like a doctor?
The weekend ended with us going to this amazing restaurant in Isla Morada and hanging by a firepit on the beach. It really was relaxing and the kids had a good time. So, overall I’d give the trip an 8.5/10 and I’d give Santiago’s behavior 6/10. Hey, that’s more than half so that’s not bad.