Man Morphs into Mom on a Mission

"Boot Camp" is the most accurate descriptive of my morning routine..."This mom van leaves for school in 15 minutes and you still have to eat your breakfast, brush you teeth and hair with different brushes, get dressed, practice piano, get your coats and boots on!" This is followed by racing other mom vans to the school, daycare, then to the office and then in reverse, followed by walking the dogs, math homework, making dinner, swim practice, yoga, showers, more teethbrushing, wine, collapse.

So on day one of vacation when I heard lovely man say, get up girls, get the breakfast done, teeth brushed, clothes on because we're leaving for sea world in 30 minutes, I commented...it only took 24 hours for you to morph into me. We've honestly been training for this vacation for several weeks...Tony has been working out at the gym, me with my walking and yoga, organizing holiday meals down to the last teaspoon of cumin...because this year, unlike other years with the kids, we've done it alone. Yup, just the boy and I supervising this travelling circus and we're on a mission to wear these little buggers out.

The first day by the pool with the kids a kindly but very plus sized grandma asks me: "are they your grand babies?" to which I laugh, "No darlin, they are my kids". She looks confused.
What's your name little girl? she asks Grace
"Yur Phat" Grace replies
"Vietnamese" I add and retreat quickly before the confusion lifts
"No one would know they were my kids if I hadn't opened my big mouth" I confess to Tony

And so my lovely man takes the reigns and sets about to guide me back from my "What was I thinking" funk to "aren't they just the best kids in the whole world." Every morning he starts with a morning coffee for me, followed by taking the girls for their morning run. This followed by swimming, ping-pong, Seaworld without a stroller, math homework, and any other activity he can invent to keep their calories burning. He books the kids into camp at the hotel, and takes me to the Ritz for dinner. We go shopping...to Jones and Anne Taylor...no gymboree or Childrens Place this trip. And all this effort is rewarded with soundly sleeping children at the end of the day and quiet evenings with my boy.

So when I am done writing this blog, I am booking our next holiday...because this girl could really get used to this.