Vacation

It has not been an easy summer. My mother has been ill, Eden’s joints have been swelling and bleeding and Jude has been flying into massive rages, and I am not sleeping.

I wake up at night and stare out the window, too tired to read but too terrified to sleep.

The idea of piling everyone including Grandma into the car and driving even a few hours away from doctors, therapists and our mechanic produces more panic than the relaxation is worth, as far as I am concerned. Jude might fall in the lake, get lost in the woods. Eden might bleed and the yokel doctors will give him cryo. The car might break down causing Grandma more stress than her blood pressure can take. Who in the world is scared to go on vacation?

I am.

Sage wants to go, he comes in my room long after he should be in bed and wants to list the animals we might see on our long walks alone. Don wants to go, he seems to think that we are going on some romantic getaway. This is pure delusion but I am going to pack, anyway, and hold my breath. I send out an email for intercessory prayer, as if we are headed in for major surgery.

The trip down goes surprisingly well, and the teal loser cruiser we call our own (even though we have ten more payments left on it) does not break down. We don’t unpack, we just put on our bathing suits and run down to the water, everyone except Grandma who is content to watch the Andy Griffith marathon on cable. Jude is so happy, it is like he is home when he is in the water, maybe he was a merman in another life. He splashes and yells and makes up games that only make sense to him. Eden wants to be held and is sure there is an evil dolphin in the murky water but he is good if we hold him above the surface. Sage and I swim out past the ropes and tell stories about his hamster having parties that bring the police on a noise complaint while we are gone. Just for an hour we remember how much we like each other, how fun it is to be us. We are nice, and funny, and we really love each other.

Oh yeah.

2.

No one will sleep. God why won’t they sleep? Jude had to be drug in from the water all pickled and smelly and kept trying to make a run for it. When the sun went down, he went to the window, and said, Goodnight lake. See you tomorrow. Which brought tears to my eyes. I thought he was settled, but no. It is midnight, and he is kicking his door, demanding chocolate pop tarts, and this is not our place, so we cannot ignore him while he makes dents in said door, so we let him out. Now Eden is up. Sage comes in. Grandma is snoring in her room so we are okay on that account. We all pile in the bed my husband was hoping could be, well, not a family bed and I can’t sleep because what if we don’t hear the little alarm we put on the front door to let us know that Jude is on his way to commune with nature without proper supervision? Everything is so damn complicated so I move the table, some chairs and an ottoman (Grandma calls it the autobahn, that makes us laugh) in front of the door and balance Sage’s rocks on top of it so we will hear. Don comes out and looks at me as if he is already making my appointment at the free mental health clinic. I am sleep deprived and not in the mood for implied criticism so I tell him if he does not care about the safety of our kids he can a. kiss my butt, and b. sleep on the couch that we both know is full of wolf spiders, which is his fault, too, but I can’t remember why. I go back to bed and realize Sage heard that. I lay awake thinking I never should have gotten married, let alone have kids.

3.Grandma loves Wal-Mart. There is one in the next town, and a dairy queen, too, so she and I go there while Eden is napping and Don is swimming with Sage and Jude. We have fun but I am scared that Don will let Jude drown. We are in the drive through for dairy queen and my mother says, like, fifty times, I want a marshmallow sundae with just a SQUIRT of chocolate, just a little squirt, not a lot, a squirt, Rebecca. Rebecca? Only a squirt, and as I am ordering she leans over and says, I only want a.. SQUIRT! I get it! Stop saying that, GOD! Who says squirt? Nobody says that! AUUGH!

She looks stricken, and the drive through voice is silent. Then, do you want nuts with that?

We are on our way home, and I watch her eating her ice cream, this person who has had very, very few breaks in life, and the ice cream makes her happy, and it is a miracle, really, that she is here and we can go shopping together, and I missed her when she was sick, and she drives me crazy, but I love her and I am so glad she is here. I yelled because I am scared my kids will drown and that is so messed up, on so many levels. Sorry.. I say, and she looks straight ahead. Your sister doesn’t yell at me.

I know, Mama. I know.

4.

Eden doesn’t like the lake much. He can’t swim and he has red hair so I have to put number 300 sunscreen all over him twice and Jude knocks him down whenever he tries to play with the sand toys. So we all head down to the beach and he stays with Grandma.

I linger behind at the door a moment and hear them singing a made up song about playdoh. It is to the tune of a Dolly Parton song. I sit down on the steps and listen to my mother being happy, and I am glad we came.

5.

I bought this giant smiley face ball at Wal-Mart. It is bigger than Jude and the kids are excited about it. Jude is all anal about it, though, and no one can touch it, and he is screaming, and Sage and Eden are mad, and I restrain Jude so he can’t grab it again,

and the ball floats off in the lake, way, far away, with a big stupid smile, and I yell for Sage to get it, and he just stands there. I am so mad, at myself, Jude, and I yell at Sage to quit crying, for God’s sake, and we all go inside.

We are sitting there drinking cokes, and we hear this weird scratching at the door. I tell Sage to see what it is. I hear him say, no! No! and I stand up and see three big Labradors, big WET Labradors coming in the door, big smiles on their faces, hey guys, we’re here, where’s the beer? And we are all screaming, Jude is naked because he had removed his bathing suit in a fit of rage over the stupid Wal-Mart ball, and the dogs are running all over and climbing and we are screaming and laughing and I stand on the couch yelling, BUMPASSES!!! And Don comes out of the bathroom and hauls all the dogs out.

That, says Sage, was AWESOME.

That night we are all doing the not sleeping thing again. Jude keeps going to the window and saying, NO DOGGIES. I am feeling postal, very postal, and I tell Sage to get in the car, and we go driving, all through the back roads and all over the lake property where we are staying, and we see animals, deer and skunks and rabbits and Sage says, sometimes I get mad at Jude.

Me too, I say.

I’m think it is worth it though, he says.

I don’t ask what. Me too, I say.

The last night of vacation we get ice cream Don orders a sundae with just a SQUIRT of chocolate and grins at me.

No one says squirt, Don, says my mother from the back seat.

We go over to the playground, and the boys run and play, except for Sage, who is almost too old for a playground, and I sit with my mother on the bench. She says she thinks my Dad would have liked to be here and watch them play, and I say, yeah, I think so too. It has been a good vacation, she says, and she is right, it has.

It is getting dark, and the mosquitoes are out, and I can hear a train in the distance, blowing its whistle. It is almost time to go, it says. Almost over. I look at Sage sitting on the swing. Yes, it has been fun, and crazy, and worth it. And it is almost over, almost time to go.