Like many others last week, we took a few days off after the July 4th holiday to hang out with our family and visit the beach. After much fun and sand eating by our little one (gross!), we're trying to get back into the normal routine. I also committed to plans for a longer family beach vacation in a few weeks -- this time further away. While I was eager to agree to another beach holiday, I found myself this morning waking early with worry. How in the world am I going to get myself, the baby, and all of our beach stuff there?!
Last week we just went to Cape Cod. A two-hour drive that my husband and I frequently take can be quite the trial with a toddler like mine who dislikes the car. Now I have to find a way to get myself to the Delaware Shore. Most likely just me and the little one. In one piece. With our beach chairs and towels. The panic was rising in me at 5:30 a.m. this morning.
The travel options seem endless, and none of them that attractive as I tried out scenarios in my head. I could drive (8 hours Google Maps tells me), but I would most likely have to do so overnight while C. sleeps if I want to keep my sanity. But by myself? I'm too scared for our safety for that. I could fly (easy 2 hours), but for some reason this fills me with dread. I know it is possible, and this is what I will likely do, but I've seen our bags fill the car when we go away for two days. How in the world do I pack and carry all of our stuff for a week at the beach on an airplane? I would need eight hands and huge arm muscles. How would I prevent C. from screaming during the whole flight? And when did vacations get so stressful?
I have this fantasy of us traveling with just two bags, C. in the ergo or playing contentedly on the plane, and complete strangers telling me how well behaved my son is. I know I will have a great time at the beach, and my family will help when I actually get there. It's the back and forth that is making my heart race.