I've never gallivanted off without my kids hardly, knowing reentry would be impossibly difficult, yesterday as I awoke them all, their own reentry - leaving a beach house and packing up to return to our own home - was extraordinarily challenging.
Two older sons were unbelievably rude and ill-tempered about it, while in his usual contrast, the poster child for the very bonded, CW helped Chuck load up our supply trailer properly. Sabrina helped a lot while some sullen ones went straight to the van to glower back at us.
I get that vacations are confusing, conflicting even, but it's been a lot of years of stability that I've provided, certainly folks can start to work through their issues now before they are unleashed into the real world? Especially now that we have the added benefit of being safe within our family? Get it together young'uns.
How nice is safe? I have no words, yet I also will not let down my hyper vigilant guard. My brains aren't pasted on, they're fully functioning.
Traumatized children do not do well with any sort of changes. Yet I can't have them grow up and not have vacations. I feel rejuvenated, blessed by my time on the ocean, while some of them struggle with all sorts of conflicting feelings.
At home they were just as unreasonable, leaving Tabby and I to unload everything. I disengaged big time, plowed through the work, ignored the simmering tensions, knowing it was best to not feed into it.
My dogs were besides themselves with delight, jumping into our arms, whimpering hysterically as if their own abandonment issues surpassed those of my children.
Good golly.
Chuck and Yolie got to go get their two new puppies they'd claimed last week, a lab/mastiff mix of warm, sweet puppy love. Two siblings from the same litter of course, already neutered, wormed and having their shots.
Summer School starts this morning for Martin - welcome back to reality, his is a course recovery for only a couple of weeks, and Sabrina has cheer leading conditioning all summer long, plus her job at Captain D's.
Jim had made reservations for he and Grandma at the Francis Marion Hotel in Charleston as they attend the Spoleto Festival. He'd chosen that one specifically, knowing Grandma like the grand old, history-laden accommodations, not knowing that Grandma and Grandpa had honeymooned there 60 years ago, delighting Grandma at the news, lemme tell ya.
Sarah and Preston, on their own honeymoon a dozen years ago, had honeymooned on a South Carolina beach island, Folly Beach, but had dined at a particular Charleston restaurant that they sent Jim and Grandma to eat at yesterday.
Edisto is barely a five hour trip from our dirt road to the beach house. The kids snored as I drove, we didn't stop once, we'd packed sandwiches and drinks, everyone listening to their Ipods, an easy 250 miles back to the real world as we know it.
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