Refreshing? Hardly.I wish someone had told me what I would be getting myself into when traveling with a 14-month-old. On a plane. To a beach. As I mentioned, the plane rides were a nightmare -- Baby Medusa screamed her beautiful little lungs out the second we boarded the plane (before the plane had even moved), which awarded us a million looks over the seats from the other passengers (some sympathetic, some incredulous, some absolutely irritated). And if you think I remembered to bring ANY books or forms of entertainment, you'd be wrong.
But we arrived safely, me with a shred of sanity left, and Sol falling asleep juuust as the plane pulled into the gate at Tampa (children always have the most beautiful timing). We spent the next few days lounging in the sun (read: I followed Sol in the pool and out of the pool and in the pool and out of the pool and in the pool and out of the pool and on the beach and up on the pier and 'stop shoving fistfuls of sand in your mouth' and in the pool and 'okay I'll hold you' and 'okay I'll set you down' and 'just please stop screaming' and in the pool again and 'let's go for a walk before I burst into tears because I just don't know how to make this child happy'). And by Wednesday Sol was so difficult that we spent a few hours in Del Boca Vista's finest urgent care clinic, waiting for a prescription for the "wicked double ear infection" (doctor's words) that had morphed my daughter into the crabbiest monster south of Georgia.
All in all, good trip. Many life lessons learned and patience has become a stronger suit. But now I need an actual vacation :) aaaaand it's safe to say that I'm happy to be back at work.
But hey, I can't really complain. It was Florida, for heaven's sake. On an island in the Gulf of Mexico. And the following photos are proof that, if anything, I have a camera full of memories of the very first vacation I took with my little Sunshine.