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have to get away

When my rendition of The Go-Go's Vacation fell on somewhat startled ears in the car, I quickly found a video of the actual Go-Go's performing the song and played it for my husband, Bug, and Squish as we made our way from the airport to the hotel in Florida last week.  

Ahhhhh, Florida.

My birth peninsula.  
Yes, I was born and lived the first six months of my fat baby life there.  So when my dear little family seemed on the precipice of a total stress induced meltdown, I booked us a vacation.

We spent four non-travel days enjoying our break from reality.  

We were regulars at the pool and the poolside tables.   Ahhhhh, the poolside tables.  Those of us who eat solid food enjoyed happy lunches there.  Those of us who drink spirited drinks enjoyed something my husband discovered - the coconut lime cooler.  And the one of us whose drinks are usually limited to almond milk, water, and maybe juice enjoyed something he liked to call "sorbet," which was actually a virgin daiquiri. 

We ventured to a beach that likes to call itself the best beach in America.  I set up the beach tent that I bought especially for this adventure.  For the most part, Bug and my husband played by the water, and Squish and I hung out under an umbrella and in the tent. 

I would love to go on and on about this, but my writing has just been interrupted.  Bug called out.  I told him I would eat my dinner and then check on him in a few minutes.  He accepted this proposal.  

When I was talking to him just now, he put in a request to sleep in my bed.

Squish is in a portable crib in my room sleeping right now.  My husband and I put him in there because last night he kept waking up -- which woke up Bug.  So tonight we thought we would get ahead of the curve and put Squish and Bug in separate rooms.  

My husband just said, "we can't win."  And he is right.  We may never get ahead of the curve.  I think the best we can hope for might be to surf it.

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