New Moon Over San Diego

Cover of New Moon (The Twilight Saga, Book 2)

Hi all! We're back from the San Diego area where we spent the better part of the week happily sucking in Eucalyptus fumes and having our bodies caressed by warm air and cool breezes that leave me wondering why we ever hopped into the van and allowed it to drive us back to the angry heat of the Southern California Desert.

We reserved a suite with a separate kid room. I carried in my suitcase visions of putting the kids to bed and having the rest of the night alone with my husband to revel and drink tequila and jump on the bed and make crank calls via the computer to overly-serious hybrid drivers wearing eel-skin Euro sandals. Painting the town red was out of the question, after all. But as soon as I stepped into our suite I realized it was not to be. The kid quarters, as it turned out, were positioned between the master bedroom area and the bathroom. Hel-LO? Who was the rocket scientist who devised this brilliant schematic?

I pitched a mini-fit that ended with me on the bed, hotel phone in hand, interrogating the dial tone as to what good it does anybody to position the kids in such a way, why the upper lip on the headboard was at head height, procluding the possibility of sitting in comfort, let alone nursing without throwing out my back, which carried even more importance given the fact that the only chairs in the room were two uberadorable toddler stools. I wanted a screwdriver to remove the staircase leading up to the second bunk on the bunk bed lest Joe should let his curiosity get the best of him at 3:15 in the morning. No amount of reasoning could make me understand why my husband didn't have a swiss pocket knife as a keychain the way I assumed all men did even though we've been married since 2005 and I know he is not the perky keychain type, so I steadied myself by stacking tiny suitcases and books on it instead.

Don't even get me started on the bathroom and VMS. You know how it is when you're away from home and the different lighting flagrantly highlights all of your flaws, pointing out flaws you didn't know existed and making it clear that you should not go out in public wearing anything less than a mascot costume and an apologetic expression. Yes, I was deep in the throes of Vacation Mirror Syndrome for our entire stay. But I didn't let it get me down. I simply picked out a pair of benign black pants and a t-shirt thick enough to cover my bumps, yet thin enough not to add to their thickness, and painted it to my body.

We had a blast with the kiddos. The San Diego Zoo on Tuesday was a delight for the senses. The boardwalk and beach on Wednesday were fun, but would have been more fun if the barn tent we'd picked up for Lily had actually worked. Mission Bay on Thursday was a joy. We all felt light and free and have plans to return as soon as is possible. We'd like to rent a kayak or two.

I need to take something back from my vacations. Besides the realization that a vacation with small children is not a vacation after all, but rather a chance for more family togetherness and to revel in the looks on the kids' faces while they gaze upon new sights and smell new smells. From the very first realization that I was pregnant with Joe Joe my life has primarily been about them and with this I am quite satisfied. However, I did pack back with me a new resolve. Since we had to go to bed so early so the kids could sleep, I got in a lot of reading and am well on my way through New Moon, the sequel to Twilight. A sentence on page 106 resounded in my head, reminding me of what I had been trying to say in my blog post about Twilight (the movie), And This is the Twilight of my Life.

"It was depressing to realize that I wasn't the heroine anymore, that my story was over."

I've been feeling for quite a while now not like a bit player or even a character actor in my own life, but rather like a set decorator. I've been hiding in the shadows doing my best to lift my children into the light, stuffing my own hopes and desires and anxieties with chips and chocolate. I have never known how to be a healthy heroine. To me pleasure and excitement have always walked hand in hand with living on the razor's edge of good and bad judgment. This is not a side of me I cared to introduce my precious children to. Perhaps I have been doing my best to bury her. I have in fact been successful in morphing into somebody I barely recognize.

My new resolve is to once again become the heroine of my own story, a story that now includes my husband and my beautiful children. A story where I don't have to hide different parts of myself sporadically, exhausting myself by choosing carefully what to reveal of myself and to whom. Where I don't have to pick at wounds to feel alive and punish myself out of misdirected anger at the universe, nor must I deprive myself of love and of loving. A story where I accept the light and dark within myself, and in all that surrounds me as being natural and healthy. A story where my fractured self becomes fully integrated and happy and cranky and above all things gloriously whole and full of life. This is the me I will share with my children.

I am starting a healthy eating plan on Monday. It's going to be a very long and painful road, but a year or two from now I will resemble myself again, inside and out. I will have more energy for my family, and I will be able to express my retro sense of style by actually fitting into clothing designed back when large cheeseburgers were the size of today's kids burger and people were too sensible to sit around and indulge every whim and craving with the easiest possible source.

Here are some photos of our trip. I look forward to catching up with my online friends tonight and over the weekend. Wishing the best of all worlds to you.