I don’t get how some companies only give their employees a week off for a whole year’s work. Thank god and universe my company (Starving artist/stay-at-home Mom) has a more flexible vacation policy.
I’m not saying I’m ripping it up in Rio or chillaxin it down in Fiji, but I am able to take a few days here and there to discover the wonders and rejuvenating benefits of staying with family and friends in the great American south.
Rejuvenating? With family? Actually, yes. Keep it at three days tops and you’re golden.
I just came back from a girl’s trip. Me and two of my besties finally converged to chill in the Florida sun like we did every summer for years until kids came into the picture. So this trip was a little different in that instead of packing a pipe we had superhero figures, Barbies, and juice boxes in our myriad of bags and suitcases.
Yep, we brought our kids.
Now I had spent a little time with these kids and besties over the last five years or so but it was only for brief moments when one of us was in the same state as the other. But you know when a friend is a friend for life even if you don’t see or talk to each other often.
The three of us got together again and it was as if no time had passed.
We picked off right where we left- comfortable and making squirrel noises and doing silly dance moves in between making pb&js. You should have seen the clockwork cadence of our moving about in the condo kitchen while cooking, cleaning, and opening a plethora of Prosecco.
And the kids got along famously.
Now luckily I was the only one on her period so there were no foul moods or irritation. Only some “Stop being so bossy!” And some “We’re not going to the pool until you eat something other than fruit gummies or Klondike bars!” That coming from us Moms to our kids, of course. The only thing we had to yell at each other was “Hey that’s my wine glass!”
The three of us saw each other through high school, college, and those weird years afterwards where we were each in totally different places and phases in our lives. But we still made time for each other on our days off. Blueberry pancake breakfasts, afternoon swimming, box wine, piling in the hatchback listening to 311 and going to the movies. We were the three musketeers, or the three squirrels, as we called ourselves (thus the kitchen squirrel noises).
To see them now, all mature with stable jobs and children and talk of Cub Scouts and art projects was so interesting. They have each aged like fine wine in that they are more comfortable in their own skin. And seeing them is like a mirror for me. I remember where I came from, what it took to get where I am now. My wine has aged, too. It is subtle sweet and full-bodied. Not that it couldn’t use a few more years in the barrel, but perhaps breathing in a carafe is more of its stage now.
I will miss my friends greatly. That little vacation came at a perfect time for each of us. And my son said it was the best time he’s had with me.
It wasn’t Fiji but it was just what I needed. Sometimes good friends, silly board games, and an undiscovered wine is all you need to feel as if you’ve been to an exotic island and inhaled a breath of fresh air.