Storming The Bastille

I did have a lot of fun on my vacation this year. I got to spend some time with my family, my parents, my brothers, and my kids got to spend some time with their uncles and grandparents. I got to take Lillian to see the Pope's Palace, the castle at Grimaud, the market at St. Tropez. We got to go to the beach and swim in the pool. It was fun and I had a really great time and I JUST WANT TO MAKE THAT PERFECTLY CLEAR RIGHT NOW, BEFORE I GO ANY FURTHER!

The thing is, this vacation wasn't exactly what I thought it would be. I don't think it ever is, really, when kids are involved. I can't explain it without sounding petty, or selfish, or resentful, but you'll have to take my word for it. It is not the same with children.

The point is, even though I had a good time on this vacation, it was also kind of frustrating for me. I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings, especially because it isn't really anyone's fault, but I felt left out a lot while I was there. It's a side effect, I think, of travelling with kids. What ended up happening was that everyone decided to do their own thing. They wander in and out, going places while I fed the kids, or napped with the kids, or put them to bed. Our interaction with people took place when our lives would accidentally intersect in the kitchen - we would be finishing up our dinner and they would come in and start cooking dinner - a meal where it seemed everyone else would sit down and eat, or at least talk and hang out. This doesn't sound too bad, does it? But it gets old.

In any case, I know this is just the way things happened out. It wasn't planned, and I didn't make much of an effort to change anything because I knew there wasn't a big plot, it was just different people on different schedules.

But for some reason I thought the 14th would be different. The 14th of July isn't TOO big a deal in France, but when we were kids we always made a "fancy" dinner, and hung out with friends, and then watched the fireworks. For some reason - mixed signals, misunderstanding, wishful thinking - I had the idea that we would all have a dinner at home and then go out to watch the fireworks. I clung to this idea. My brothers each had a friend visiting, and my parents had friends visiting. I thought we would make a large and happy group. It was our last night before going home, and this would be a nice way to end the vacation.

But I didn't really think things through or talk to anyone about it. I came home from our last stroll into town tired, but looking forward to the night ahead. And nothing was happening. My mother, who still is far from 100%, was resting, and said my father had made plans for them to go out with their friends. My brothers and their friends were going out to a different place. And suddenly I realized that, because I had assumed we would all be together, I had completely botched things. It would be me and Lillian with the boys, home alone, again, scrounging for a meal in the fridge.

And something in me snapped. I was just so disappointed that I started to cry right there, in front of my mother and Lillian and my brother and everyone. I was so embarrassed, and felt so silly and selfish, that I expected everyone to be thinking about ME instead of going out and having fun and doing what they wanted to do. But it wasn't a little cry, see. It was one of those really big, sobbing, out of control things that prevented me from breathing or talking, and I had to work really hard not to let it get too loud because there were enough people watching me, for goodness sake, and I really didn't want a bigger audience.

Anyway, to make this long story short (too late, I know) guess what happened? I tried convincing everyone that I was fine, that we would be fine, that we could pick up something from town and we'd be fine... but instead both my brothers and my parents ended up canceling their dinner reservations. My brothers and Meg and Rachel drove into town and ordered 8 pizzas. They bought a patisserie out of fruit tarts. And they brought in a number of bottles of champagne (The best the Shell station had to offer, Winston claimed!). While we waited for the pizzas to be ready, they brought out a cheese platter. We all just sat and talked on the porch, watching the sun set and anticipating the fireworks.

And it was really wonderful. It was just what I wanted, better than I could have imagined, and I felt so ridiculous. But honestly, despite how embarrassed I was, it was the best night I had there. If you ever wanted to know what to get me as a gift, you can just get me that night and tie a bow around it. And just in case you don't get why I was so upset, or still don't understand what my problem was, or think I was too much the drama queen... well, I was over reacting. I knew this at the time, I just had no control over my body at that point. But in my defense, having kids is a lonely business, and it is sometimes hard to understand just how difficult it can be. Heather B. Armstrong recently wrote "For those of you who do not have kids and have ever wondered what life would be like, just go turn on a blender and stick your face in it. That."