The last couple of months have been a bit grueling. Getting up to speed on the tenor drum and practicing for our upcoming competition (Sunday - eek!). Studying for a work-related exam that's taken five months of weekly classes plus about 3-4 hours of homework weekly to get ready for. The usual work schedule and commute and weekends with housecleaning and laundry and errands. And there have been the frequent band performances (I think about eight since Memorial Day weekend?) requiring early risings and long days away from home on weekends.
The household adults (me and Sparky) did get a vacation last month, to our beloved island in Maine. But the first three days were bad weather-wise. They were followed by three spectacular days, and then I came down with a series of plagues, including pneumonia, from which I still haven't quite recovered. I'm convinced I had just run myself too ragged in the weeks leading up to the trip, and once I let my body relax a bit, I was invaded by a wide variety of germs, bugs, and cooties.
Sparky and I don't get to take that trip every year. But there is another ritual that has been annual since my kids were born, and that's our family week together in the woods. Now it's us adults and three teens between us. We rent a cabin up in Vermont and pretty much spend every waking moment doing things together for six days. Meals, games, trips to the store, tubing, reading around the fireplace, sleeping late. It's always been a fun time.
But it's also a lot of work. For me, and pretty much only for me. It's the kind of place where you need to bring towels and flashlights and groceries and extra sneakers for swimming, and books and games and dvds. There is mail to be held and cat sitter arrangements and getting a little ahead at work and meal planning and shopping and a gazillion other details that need doing. Remembering to bring phone chargers and cameras and, . . . oh yeah, we pay a lot of money for this experience.
Our reservation has been in place since February. Last night I called to cancel it, forfeiting our deposit. We're not going this year. And when I remembered that first thing upon waking this morning, I felt . . . relief. A little sad, but mostly relief.
The kids have reached an age where it's obvious they prefer spending time with friends to playing Uno around a kitchen table. I've reached a stage where I'm sick and tired (literally) of being the housekeeper and checkbook and "maker of things that happen." Vacations should be vacations for me too, dagnabbit.
So now that I've gained back the 5 vacation days that trip would have used, I'm trying to figure out what to do with that. Take the planned week off just to sleep late and relax by myself out on the back deck? Take a bunch of 3-day weekends? Take off Thanksgiving week? Or save them and carry them over to next year when I'll need more because of our trip to Scotland (August, 2010)?
What would you do if handed 5 extra vacation days?
