Chocolate Bars, Crying Babies, and Nip Slips

So we packed up the family and took a summer mini-vacation to Hershey Park, Pennsylvania. (A.K.A. Chocolate Heaven!) I learned some new things about family vacations and I thought I would share some of my new found wisdom and insight in case any of you are crazy enough, I mean, thoughtful enough, to share a beautiful family experience.

1. There is no beautiful family experience. Even the best family vacation is probably going to make you crazy at some point. If you drive to get to vacation, you're upping the chances of needing a sedative. (Although I don't advise taking the sedative while driving as that could be super counter productive to restful vacations.) In fact, maybe the sedatives are actually a must have on your to-pack list. For the kids. This would increase the chances of everyone surviving the drive for sure.

2. Travelling with a baby can make you cry like a, well, baby. Take any baby, even one who is mostly good natured, stick them in a car seat for longer than oh, 10 minutes, and you have a recipe for a crankiness. What this means is that you spend half of the trip hoping and praying that the baby stays sleeping and the other half feeling like a jerk. Why do you feel like a jerk? Oh let me count the ways. Maybe for praying the baby stays asleep for an entire 5 hour trip? Or for when he starts crying and you're in a moving vehicle and have to rely on shaking a rattle in his face hoping to confuse him enough to stop the crying? Or perhaps because you had the audacity to take this poor blessed child and stick him in a moving vehicle with no booby juice or toys or people paying attention only to him?

3. Nursing a baby on vacation is harder than juggling a chain saw one handed. Okay, well, not really. But it IS pretty difficult. You have to stop to feed the baby on the drive. You have to feed the baby while eating in restaurants. Or at family activities like amusement parks or fabulous chocolate based places like Chocolate World. It's hard to plan the activities around the baby's eating schedule when there's only a few hours between feedings. It got to the point where I felt like a dealer. "Hey kid, want a little boob juice? Huh? Some milk o'mama? Just a little tip of the nipple?" I felt like nip slip could be used to describe me popping a breast in the baby's mouth in dark corners in Hershey Park and sitting in the parking lot before going into restaurants. Honestly, as much as I love vacation, I breathed a little sigh of relief when we got home and back to our regularly scheduled program.

4. Continental breakfasts are definitely in my top 5 happiest vacation luxuries. Breakfast? That I don't have to cook? Kick ass. Oh, and it's free? I'll take two please. Not that I would eat anything other than fruit and yogurt for breakfast because my body is a temple. (And if you believe that, I have a bridge to sell you.) There were these little cinnamon rolls that I'm pretty sure should have been illegal. (It probably would have been better for my thighs if they had been.)

And last but not least:

5. Vacations come once a year so that you are stupid enough to take more than one. For most families, vacations are an annual thing. Maybe for the money. Maybe because of time constraints. Maybe because if you took more than one a year, you'd divorce your family and go live in a hut on a mountain far, far away. Okay, maybe not a hut, but definitely a cabin. The good thing is, fifteen years from now you'll be able to laugh about all those terrifying, frustrating, and irritating family vacation moments. When your kids are going through them with their kids.

This Little Piggy Went to the Market

They always say one of the things you should never do is go to the market when you're hungry. (Yes, yes, I say market instead of grocery store. I also say tinfoil. Deal with it.) My antiquated speech aside, they say these things for a reason. (I'm still not quite sure who they are, but I'd like to meet them one day and thank them for their profound words of wisdom.)

I'm guessing the reason that they say this is because when you shop hungry, it changes what you might buy. Like, for example, say I really needed oranges, milk, and peanut butter but I come home with ring dings, potato chips, root beer, and ice cream. Yes, I probably remembered to get the milk, oranges, and peanut butter too, but I picked up some hitchhikers on the way to get them. That package of Oreos begged for a ride. That family size bag of Doritos practically threw itself at me. And if that wasn't bad enough, once I finally made it to the checkout line, that Milky Way was feeling so unloved that I had to buy it just to prove that it was well liked. (Disclaimer: I'm not representing any of these brands. It's just easier to make my point with "Oreos" versus "creme filled chocolate sandwich cookies". Not to mention less wordy.)

Maybe I can get this tattooed on my forehead as a reminder?

The other drawback to this scenario is that you spend much more money than you wanted by picking up all these nutritionally challenged friends of yours. Even if it'a all "on sale" or if you coupon, those hunger pains can blind you to those dollar signs until that final sticker shock at the end. At that point you're probably not going to say "I confess to shopping hungry, put it all back please!" so you pay and leave quickly. (The super market walk of shame: Fast steps, furiously rushing your cart towards your car, downcast eyes.)

What I want to know is this: Why can't I crave healthy foods? It's never, "You know what sounds good? Some kale. Or some grilled white fish. With a side of flax seed salad." (Is that a thing? I feel like that's a thing.) Nope. It's more often "Hmm, I feel like having brownies covered in ice cream smothered in hot fudge. With a side of extra movie theater butter microwave popcorn. (Which should probably just be renamed Cholesterol Clogging Calorie Corn.) Any attempt to eat healthy gets buried underneath a not so healthy add on. Like, mmm, broccoli. With cheese sauce. Or yum, a 93% lean hamburger on a multi grain roll. With cheese. And bacon. And mayonnaise. And more bacon.

So the moral of the story is, don't write about food. Seriously. I'm starving now. Does anyone have a steak? What about chocolate cake? Anyone? No? Huh, guess I'll have to run to the store then.

I'll take two please!