...vacation hangover

Today, I literally crawled into work. I am normally greeted by strange looks from my coworkers. I only work two days a week and I can sometimes be a human resources nightmare, so I am never shocked by their looks. BUT today, I knew I looked like shit. I was disoriented, sleepy, and angry.

I looked like I had been out all night. I secretly wished I could share some story of how I got shit faced and passed out and literally just rolled out of bed. It took me two days to unpack from our vacation and get some order back to our house. PLUS...we have no live TV, so it's very f_______g quiet right now in our house...too quiet and my SUV broke down. The Divas have decided to sit up under me for going on 48 hrs. They have 2 bedrooms, a playroom, and a living room. I find it very hard to share my bedroom with 3 girls and 9 American Girl Dolls. Get the hell out!!! My energy is drained and my ability to talk to people in a nice way has gone to shit.

Anyway, I sat at my desk wondering what the hell was wrong with me. I knew I was a little off because I forgot to get my Xanax refilled before the holiday/weekend, but this was some serious irritation.

As I sipped my coffee and aggressively tapped on my keyboard in efforts to respond to a massive amount of emails, I finally realized what was going on......VACATION HANGOVER!!!

Damnit to hell!!!! That's it...I then found the perfect definition of Vacation Hangover compliments of Urban Dictionary:

The pain of returning to the reality of your real life after experiencing a vacation you wish was your real life.

Sufferers of Vacation Hangover will often feel anger or resentment within the first week post vacation and question the decisions they have made leading them to where they are and the things they do on a daily basis.

They may find themselves daydreaming of a different life, lingering nuggets of joy from memories of where they were or what they were doing on vacation.

Sufferers might even try to invent imaginary ways to make the vacation life they were living a reality. Only to find themselves more miserable than they were before they even left on vacation to begin with.

An example of vacation hangover is when a mother and father of 3 small children go on vacation without the kids. They visit Tokyo! They sleep in, eat amazingly fresh sushi, attend a Japanese Punk Rock concert, take naps in the middle of the day, and eat their fabulous meals at odd times.

The parents return to their regular lives. The father is working 80 hours a week at a meaningless job he hates. The mother is mopping pee off the bathroom floor, breaking up sibling rivalry, and cleaning up a sloppy diaper while slathering rash cream on her baby's sore bottom. The baby screams in pain, someone else throws a toy at Wife's head, and another child is crying because the computer isn't playing the RIGHT kind of train movie.

Both parents really enjoyed their time in Tokyo and struggled returning cheerfully to their real life.

I was at peace when I realized I was not alone. Alright, I know what I have. Now, how the hell do I get rid of it???? I have come up with a list that I offer to you to help with vacation hangovers:

10 VACATION HANGOVER CURES: 

(shit I should have done instead of staring off into space about car and cable issues).

1. Do not go back to work on a Monday after a vacation. You will not get shit done anyway. So stay at home and nap. Enjoy your home. Find the beauty in it again.
2. Find a happy hour to visit after your first full work day. If you have been sipping Mimosas on the beach for 5 days straight, your body is going through shock. You need a drink!!
3. Unpack as soon as possible. The longer your luggage is out...the more it will remind you of the fun you had.
4. Change your sheets ASAP. You have been snoozing on more than likely a pretty comfy white bed. Clean sheets will calm the soul. It's a way of tricking your body into thinking it's in a hotel.
5. Post your vacation pictures as soon as possible. This will always accelerate the transition. You will notice little bolts of energy. If you wait too long, you will get f_______ depressed looking at them.
6. Stay away from anyone who seems like they are remotely happy about you being back from vacation. They didn't miss you. They want you back to suffer in REALITY.  Your senses will pick up on this and you will want to punch them in the face.
7. Ignore your inner voice that is asking "What do you want to do with your life?" This is not a voice of reason. This is a fictional what if Santa Claus was real voice.
8. Find something to laugh about. I swear I spend numerous hours a day searching Pinterest humor, Blunt cards, and Some ecards when I need a good laugh. Today: I watched numerous Kevin Hart videos and thought I would piss myself from laughing so hard.
9. Please find activities for your children. The busier they are...the more rest you get. No child wants to see mom go ape shit because she just heard someone say they were bored. 
10. PLAN ANOTHER TRIP ASAP 

If this does not help any, I recommend you make a batch of Mother's Cure. See post titled "Mother's Cure" for recipe.

...home sweet hell

After traveling 55 mph for 2.5 hours because my vehicle decided to get stuck in 3rd gear, I could not help but to run to our kitchen door upon our arrival home. The SBF and I had gone from laughing uncontrollably to cursing each other out under our breath. It was bound to happen. You put a family of five in a car for 8 hrs and all of the ugliness starts to show. The real ugly. He wanted me to apologize for saying he was acting like Miss B. I wanted him to lick the crack of my ass. Funny how marriage can go from good to bad in a matter of seconds. Just Monday, we were sitting on the beach and laughing. Today, I contemplated staking him like a vampire on True Blood. Only because I love him so much am I able to feel comfortable with such violent thoughts.

Having all girls means that I am stuck on bathroom duty and it sucks ass royally. I don't know how many times I have had to threaten "If you touch something in this bathroom, you hands will rot off. So every time someone has to piss or shit, I am responsible for dragging them into sketchy bathrooms. The last stop was an emergency because Miss B announced she had "die-a-rhea". I run to a bathroom while holding her heavy ass and pleading "try to hold it for mommy" and praying "Dear God, please don't let her shit on me...not today....not on my twerk tank top". I knock on the door and a woman comes out immediately. Startled, I say thank you thinking she must sense the urgency. This bitch had the nerve to say "I don't know why you are thanking me. I am just using the bathroom." I was completely shocked. As I stood over Miss B listening to her once again give me a play by play of what she was dropping in the toilet, I was fighting back the tears. I wanted to go beat the hell out of this lady. I wanted to literally shake the shit out of her. I wanted a slap off contest with this cold heartless bitch that did not sense a mommy on the verge of having a nervous breakdown. Did she know how many bathrooms I have had to carry a kid in? How many times I have had to say the hell with it and take my daughters into the men's restroom? In 20 seconds, I had cursed her entire family (past, present, and future). I admit I was searching for her evil ass when we left the bathroom. I wanted to take my "thank you" back. Luckily, I did not find her.

So, we arrive home. Immediately, the girls want to watch TV and we realize that will be the best entertainment to keep them busy while we unpacked. Holy hell.........you have got to be f______g kidding me? What is wrong with the television? After trying to break the remote and a couple of cable boxes, DIRECTV informed me that something happened to a box in my house that will not allow the satellite to send a signal. The lady then informed me that the first date they could get someone out would be July 15th. Now here is where I lost my shit a little. Life flashed before my eyes. 10 days with no TV...no way, no how, not today or any day. I don't let my children veg out in front of the television, but when I need to take a piss the TV helps. I tried to calmly explain that we


had just returned from a rainy vacation and that my sanity depended upon my children being able to watch TV. I ignored the awkward silence that followed. I then went on to tell her about my car trouble. Of course Miss B walks in and asks me "When will you fix the TV mommy?" at which time I yell "I'm trying to. I can't do everything. Mommy does not know magic." I hear more silence and then I hear "Ma'am, do you want to go ahead and schedule a visit for the 15th?". By now the tears are falling and I don't give a shit. I manage to get out a "yes" and asked that she put us on an emergency list in case someone should cancel. I hang up the phone and sit in the middle of the floor. The SBF was out grocery shopping and I'm in the floor crying over not having live TV. I'm crying because he's out grocery shopping and I'm in hell. How dare he? He should be here? Selfish SOB...giggle. Thankfully, the Davis Divas do have access to recorded shows and that's it. 

As I wipe my face and head to the other side of the house, my middle child, comes up to me with a card. My heart melts. Shit...she's so sweet and pure and innocent. Her mom, dad, and sisters are crazy as hell and she accepts us and still loves us. She is the most thoughtful one out of the group. She always says "please" and "thank you". She is known for giving random strangers compliments. Her soul is so pure. I hug the hell out of her and try my best to look like I have it together. She takes on so much and aims to please everyone. I can't let this be her burden to carry. She loves to get money in cards just like her mama and that makes me giggle. I hug her again and make a silent vow to kill anyone that ever hurts her.

The SBF arrives home with the groceries and tries to make light of the television situation. At this point, I am on a roll of I don't give a shit, damn all of y'all, kiss my ass, I quit, and even I want my mama!!! Yep, the gates of hell hath opened up. The sad part is I did the majority of this "bat shit crazy" behavior in hiding. I remember a couple of times when my mom fully lost her shit and some of those times did scar me for life. So, I summoned myself to the closet. I finally manage to get myself together and climb into my bed. Miss B crawls up and decides to ask me for the 100th time "When are you going to get another toe?"....REALLY!!! RIGHT NOW!!! THE SBF walks into the bedroom and she asks him "Are we brown or black?" Holy hell...is she trying to send me off into the abyss?? I start reciting scriptures in my head...the few I know by heart. I even tell myself "you is kind. you is smart. you is important." Nothing is working. The SBF decides to sit next to me and loudly crunch on his salad. Normally, I would be able to ignore the noise coming from his direction, but my senses are heightened. I giggle to myself at the thought of knocking the salad out of his hand. How many damn croutons did he put on his salad? When will the madness ends? He picks up a book from his nightstand and starts f_____g talking to me:

SBF: Ha!! Look at this.
ME: (dear God make him be silent)
SBF: Look what chapter I am on...Beatitude: Lucky are the unlucky.
ME: (dear God forgive me, but I can't do devotional time with him right now.)
SBF: This is not a coincidence.
ME: (why don't you replace that "L" with and "F"...OMG, what is wrong with me. I'm going to hell!)

I muster up enough strength to roll over and stare at the wall. I don't want him to see the red beams that are coming out of my eyes right now. The beams that want to set the book he is holding on fire. And I realize it's that time...."burn party". It is time for me to take my issues to the fire pit on our patio. Judge me if you want, but it is very therapeutic to burn some shit....giggle. Ask my friends, we have had a couple of "burn parties" that involved an ex's t-shirt. I laugh with excitement of what I will toss into the pit. Maybe the beach toys, maybe the atlas, maybe the DIRECTV remotes, maybe my owner's manual to my car...right now my options are endless.

...beach take 3

2 families plus 5 girls under the age of 10 equals exhausted and delusional parents. Two tents, 100 sand toys, boogie boards, and a cooler equals parents refusing to leave the beach. 

Gone are the days of relaxing in chairs, drink in hand and book in your lap. Now, it's a constant "Where the hell are they?", "Yes, you are going to go piss in the ocean.", "If, you throw sand one more time, we are leaving Destin.", "Close your mouth and you will not taste the salt water", "Of course your eyes are on fire when you rub sand in your face.", "How did you get so much sand in the crack of your ass?" and "The ocean water is so much better than the pool!!" We bring them to the beach and they would rather swim at the pool. 

But we survived with no injuries or amber alerts. So all went well. Even avoided a trip to the ER after one of the parents had an allergic reaction and broke out in hives. He's allergic to shell fish, but has not consumed any. After calculating how much children's Benadryl he could consume, he is resting comfortably. Let's hope he wakes up. It has been recommended that he swim in a wet suit tomorrow. Giggle 

Rain is in the forecast....Xanax also. 

...road trip

We are on the road to the beach!! Yay and Jesus be my shield because being in the car with the 3 Divas and the sexy bald fella can take me to my dark place. 

We have been on the road 2 hours and the oldest child has farted (maybe even sharted) herself into a coma. But that's one less child that will whine and complain. The other two keep coming in and out of their drug induced naps asking for for food and if we are there yet. The SBF just informed me I was talking to him to loud while listening to music on my iPhone. So, I whispered I would just stop f___g talking to him. I am ignoring the fact that he's driving like a damn lunatic. I'm going to go to sleep. 

2.5/7 hours: He finally has agreed to stop because of course naps are short lived and they are starving. He pulls into McDonald's and decides it would be much easier for him to go in and get the food for everybody. (Wtf...what's wrong with drive thru). He jumps out the car and takes the keys with him. (Hello...it's 80 damn degrees and your family has decided to stay in the vehicle!!) I find my keys and crank up the car. The oldest has just blessed us again by expelling fumes from her body. (Wth did she eat? Is she rotting inside. Holy hell is she sick? The SBF returns with our food and coffee for himself. No beverages for everyone else in his family. He goes back and returns with 4 apple juice boxes. (I don't want any damn apple juice and why is there a straw missing from one of them? Isn't that a coincidence...my juice box is missing a straw). I know I may sound like a spoiled bitch, but an apple juice box??? I make sure to tell him thank you and distribute the food to the savages.

As we pull out of the gas station, guess what comes on the radio......

 

The edited version of course. II can't help but do a "cheers" up to the sunny sky to my mom with my apple juice box. She has my back. 

Instead of using our GPS, he has an atlas out. Really??? Do they even make those anymore? But wait...he can't use the GPS because the girls are playing with it. They have barely touched their kindle Fire HDs that are connected to a portable wifi device so they can watch Netflix. 

We are now stuck in traffic and he has chosen to play car checkers and literally jump from lane to lane attempting to get ahead and not lose any time. 

I glance out my window to eacape reality and I notice an AL new station vehicle beside us. Hope we don't end up on their local news. 

Breaking news: mommy loses her shit....

To be continued