Double threat

Our beach trip was fairly awesome. It was nice to get out of town with the family and take in the sun and the sand on the South Carolina coast. I have to admit to being a compete and total cheeseball by tearing up a time or two over the fact I was sharing with MY family something my own parents (and after the divorce, my dad) shared with ME for so many years. In all my cheeseball glory I recounted tale after tale to the husband and the kids of my quarter of a century worth of Myrtle Beach memories. I have a sneaking suspicion I sounded all too much like that chick from American Pie with her whole "this one time, at band camp...". Instead I was all "this one time, at Myrtle Beach...".

I rode the rides with Gavin like my own mom did with me way back in the day and I took the kids out for a treat to Kirk's Ice Cream Parlor and ordered the same thing I have ordered for almost every summer for as long as I can remember: peanut butter cup ice cream with marshmallow topping. I get a cavity just typing out my standard fare but there is something so scrumptious about peanut butter and chocolate all rolled together with the WORLD'S BEST marshmallowy goodness (and keep in mind, I'm a registered dietitian so I'm an "expert" on all things marshmallowy and goodness related) that has rocked my world for the past 25 years. If you ever venture out to the Redneck Riviera, might I recommend Kirk's peanut butter cup with marshmallow topping. Oh, and don't forget to pack a clean pair of underpants. It's THAT good.

There were two things that not only surprised but were also totally the me of right now on the trip- no nostalgia and/or warm and fuzzy memories required- and they came in the form of threats I made several times during our brief stay.

I threatened to wean the Goose. Although, from here on out she may be referred to as "she who desires to suck the life and soul out of her mother via her nipples one breastfeeding session after breastfeeding session after breastfeeing session after breastfeeding session after....". Well, her new name may be a bit too long so I'll continue to refer to her as the Goose but you get the point: homegirl is BOOB CRAZY!!! She isn't boob crazy in that "oh, how sweet my little nursling needs the comfort and nutrition of mama's milkies" or "isn't extended breastfeeding a wonderful parenting tool" kind of way. She is boob crazy in the "woman, give me the titties RIGHT NOW or I will continue to writhe and scream and jam my hands down your top and twiddle your nipples until I get a boobie in my mouth for the next hour or so and don't bother watching the clock because I will let you know when I am finished" kind of way.

Holy smokes. I don't know if it was because the boobages were so out there because I was sporting a bikini top most of the time or because she was completely taking advantage of her extra time with mama on vacation but she about drove me NUTS! She nursed 6 or 7 times a day and even woke during the night for nursing. If I tried to hand her off to the husband she lost her mind and the only way she would retain some semblance of normalcy and not scream 24 hours a day was to allow her access to the milkies at all times.

Obviously I'm not going to wean her but if our life at home were to become anywhere close to our life at the beach (i.e. boobies in mouth/hand at all times), I would totally begin to encourage weaning. I can't live like that. I can't. I can't... I can't... I can't.

I also threatened to divorce the husband. I haven't talked about it a lot on here or on Babycenter but the husband and I have hit a rough patch. Long story short, we never have "us time", our sex life is non-existant, and we are both so exhausted and so on edge from raising the high needs Gavinator and the boob-addicted Goose that if we aren't sleeping, we're ripping each other's heads off.

It's hard. I know we're not living a life any different from any other parents to two very young children but we are working opposite schedules to keep the kids out of daycare and we never get a break. What's worse is that I don't think we want a break. We are both totally addicted to our kids and want to be with them at all times but let's face it, people need breaks. We NEED breaks regardless of whether or not we WANT breaks. I have figured out from the two nights away from the kids (when I went downtown and when I played tennis) that when I do a little for me, I can do a lot better for them.

It's like the old airplane analogy when in case of an emergency, the adult is to put their oxygen masks on BEFORE putting the masks on their children. It's not selfish. It's not wrong to out our masks on first. We need to put our masks on so we can help our children. Well, we've been experiencing a major emergency for some time and we continue to put the masks on our kids first failing to take care of ourselves. We need to take care of ourselves first otherwise we're all going to end up oxygen deprived.

Ok, I took that analogy a little too far. We have plenty of oxygen (unless if in the analogy sex is oxygen then we are soooooo out of oxygen) but you get the point.

The husband I stormed off from each other at Broadway at the Beach after I told him "I hate you" and that when we get home "we need to settle our accounts". He took Gavin and I took Grace and we spent our Thursday night separately. It wasn't lost on me that four years ago at Broadway at the Beach we were partying with our friends Emily and Johnny, making out in bars, and pretty much couldn't keep our hands off of each other. Now we are tired shadows of our former selves so hell-bent on making a vacation to remember for our kids that we failed in the most important aspect: each other. A family vacation isn't hotel reservations or trips to the aquarium or even orgasm-envoking ice cream; it's the family being together and when we're storimg off in different directions with a kid a piece, we have definitely lost sight of what is important.

We're going to be okay. I love him more than anything in this world. He came up and kissed my cheek and my neck this evening and I got the same old goosebumps that I got four years ago. I've been working on doing for me over the past few months and now we need to work on doing for each other. It's just so hard. We think we're doing it all right by putting the kids first and in a sense, we are but we've lost balance and we need to find it. I'm not sure how we are going to find that balance but when we do, you'll be the first to know. We're up for the challenge. For the kids but especially for ourselves.