Great Expectations: Summer Travel Edition

I love to travel – it lights me up inside.  I love the journey.  I love the destination.  I love experiencing new adventures and finding comfort in familiar places.

I also love traveling because I learn so much about myself.

When we were in Myrtle Beach, I learned that despite all my focus on self-awareness, I still keep secrets from myself.

And expectations are my best-kept secrets from myself.

Unbeknownst to me, I expected to relax and play while we were at Myrtle Beach.

I (unexpectedly) expected everyone, especially the kids, would be happy.  In fact, I expected them to be so happy that they would spontaneously forget about their devices since they were so happy to be at the beach.

Clearly, these expectations were too great.  Yes, we had fun. 

Every time Thomas says he hates Myrtle Beach, I will show him this photo
so he remembers how much fun he really did have.

One of my most favorite days ever.

But the battle of getting ready to go to the beach and unplugging from devices, and the battle with food  - it wore me down a bit.

Maybe if I just lowered my expectations to ensuring everyone stayed hydrated I would have had a better time.

Ironically, the Oprah magazine that I brought with me had a piece by Brene Brown about vacations and expectations.  She talked about how she had zero expectations for her family trip to Disney World – or so she thought.  When she talked to her husband about how she was looking forward to reading and napping and having a magical time, she realized that she had some secret expectations.

I tried to remember these insights when our next adventure took me and the kids with my mom to New Jersey to visit family.

I thought I was doing pretty well when I expected a horrible 12 hour road trip, and they were fantastic. 

Road Trip Warriors.

I was also not sure what to expect from them in terms of their behavior as houseguests, but my manners boot camp seemed to pay off.

Look at them - sharing a chair and being all cozy.  I wonder how I can get them to
use their houseguest behavior in our own home.

What I didn’t expect was to be so damn tired.  I was with them almost every single moment since they required me to sleep with them in the same room.  It was super cozy, though.  How could it not, sharing a twin bed with an 8 year old and another child in the other twin right next to you.

Yes, I had my own bed in another room.  No, I didn't sleep in it.
Mom guilt is strong with these kids.

I was also caught off guard by the sharp twinge of nostalgia.  There is nothing quite like going to a place you went every summer as a kid and then share that experience with your own children.  I usually like to bask in the warmth of nostalgia, but this time I felt more sadness than fondness. 

I think being in a place that looks and feels just like it did when I was five highlighted the fact that I am The Caregiver now.  And as much as I love my role as The Caregiver to my children, I miss the safe feeling of knowing that someone else has the wheel.

Me and my brother - New Jersey circa 1981

Thomas and Marie - New Jersey 2014

I realized when we were in Myrtle Beach that traveling gave me a way to connect with my kids that is hard to due to the daily grind, but this road trip to New Jersey helped me to connect with myself in a way that I haven’t done in quite awhile.

Have you traveled this summer?  Did you have fun?  Did you learn anything new about yourself?

Perhaps My Expectations Are Too High

Before I get to my rant of a post, I do have some incredibly good news.  First, check out this link.  (Go ahead, I’ll wait).

How. Cool. Is. That?!  I am so honored that Skinny Scoop spotlighted me on their website.  I definitely did my happy dance!!

You know what else would make me do the happy dance?  If you voted for me here.  Skinny Scoop is having people vote for their favorite mom blogger.  Please please please PLEASE vote for me!!  I would be ever so grateful. 

Ok so on to the rant.

Marie had her tonsillectomy and adenoidectomy on Friday.  I slept horribly the night before, but I wiped the sleep from my eyes and put on a game face.  And was able to keep it on for most of the day. 

Listen, I was already a wreck, but the day’s events, aside from the surgical procedure that my poor daughter was to endure, is what actually broke me and my hardcore game face.  

So before I  break it down bullet point style, I would like to preface with the fact that I have much respect for the medical profession and would love to join forces with them if I was more proficient in math and handling of bodily fluids.

• I was uncomfortable that the staff kept asking me what procedure that we were having done.  I am sure there is a very good reason why for this, but to me, it communicated uncertainty. In a hospital setting, I prefer confidence. 
• I was upset that the nurse forgot Marie's weight right after she was done weighing her.  She asked us.  Logically.  I didn’t feel right about the number.  Thankfully, I asked another nurse to confirm her weight and the measurement was adjusted.  You know, for safety’s sake when administering the anesthesia.

• The waiting room was a disaster.  People were treating it as their personal office space.  This lady was talking as if she was the only person in the whole room.  I could tell you everything about her Godless church members just showing up when they need something.  I also feel pretty confident that I could walk into her office and find exactly where her special stapler is (I would not be surprised if it was a red Swingline stapler).  (Bonus points for those who can tell me what I’m talking about) I *may* have become so frustrated that I began talking over her while giving her dirty looks.  It boggles my mind that her behavior was accepted and tolerated.  Why?  Why is it that the majority of society is OK with this self-centered behavior?  Perhaps a post for another time.

• Also, this couple was trying to run their website, yet had no idea how to operate a computer.  (As in they didn’t know how to close the tabs).  They were asking each other how this thing works.  Harrington said it best with this observation: “People need to get a license before they drive their computers off the Apple lot.”

• The surgeon neglected to tell us that Marie should eat nothing red, as to not confuse it with blood if she were to throw up.  I reminded him and he was all, “Oh, yeah.  Nothing red.”  I will give you one guess what color Popsicle the nurse gave her after her surgery.  I can also say that I learned of this because she threw up.

• After more than an hour of waiting, I decided to ask where my daughter was.  I was told that she was recovering from surgery.  They would find her nurse to ask if we could see her.  I don’t’ know, but an hour of waiting without hearing if my kid was OK was about thirty minutes too long for me.

• When we finally were able to see Marie, the nurse said she was having a hard time recovering.  No other explanation was provided.  So I decided to probe, and she said that the nurse who was with Marie was too busy to talk.  Then she offered the supervisor.  When I did get to speak with the supervisor, she explained because Marie was thrashing around and trying to pull out her IV that the nurse could not leave her alone. Finally, the nurse suddenly appeared and confirmed this.  The supervisor said that the “take away” from all of this was maybe someone else could notify the parent while the nurse stayed with the child.  Um, that seems pretty obvious, right?  And for those keeping score, this is when I lost my game face.

• The next day, Marie had a fever.  After waiting for over 90 minutes for the doctor to get back to me, he said it was normal and probably due to dehydration.  If that was normal, why wasn't it on the discharge papers?  It should be noted that “not using a tampon” was on her discharge papers.  (You guys know that Marie is only five, right?) 

• When I talked to the nurse on Monday about her leaking nose, she went over a whole slew of discharge information which was not on the papers.  Her surgery was done at a regular hospital, not the children’s hospital.  But still, should the discharge papers resemble the same information?

Or are my expectations too high?