By: John Jericiau
Three more days to go until the end of our Costa Rican vacation, and I’m ready to go home. Don’t get me wrong – I’m enjoying everything about this vacation. We are at an all-inclusive resort, and we haven’t excluded anything. We enjoy every breakfast, lunch, and dinner, topped off with a dessert or two. We are having fruity drinks and smoothie drinks and alcoholic drinks. The boys sip on pineapple-mango concoctions throughout the day as if they won the lottery, in between or during their kid’s club activities at the beach or the pool or the art room or wherever they want. We’ve watched wonderful live music and dance performances on stage. We’ve done massage on the beach and reflexology at the spa, daily workouts at the gym, and some napping at poolside. We’ve done long ocean swims and walks along the shore. We’ve ramped up our man-on-man time to a frequency not seen since 2004 B.K. (Before Kids.) We’ve stayed up late watching good old movies on TV (albeit with English subtitles), and have slept in until the boys wake us up at the crack of 10. We’ve been able to lounge on our hotel room patio and talk leisurely together about our goals for the next five years, our landscape plans for our back yard, and our deep inner thoughts about John Travolta. We’ve bonded as a family, and have enjoyed every minute of it.
It would be unbearable to leave all of this behind if not for the fact that things are so great at home. We are walking distance to one of the most iconic beaches on the planet. We can walk to a beautiful municipal pool. Or to an awesome outdoor promenade. Or a library. Or the market. Or a bowling alley.
The weather is incredible. It’s warm but not hot. We don’t have tornadoes, hurricanes, or ice or snow. We have a bike path down at the beach that is great for running. We live across the street from a kid’s park and a dog park. We have a very roomy backyard (roomy by beach community standards anyway).
The boys’ fantastic schools are walking distance from our house. We have lots and lots of relatives close by (husband’s side of the family), and even more friends and playmates. Our town has 20 movie theaters in or around it, and our minivan at last count has 17 cup holders and a three-inch layer of beloved toys on its floor. The boys have their karate class, and their swim lessons, and their YMCA.
We’re at T minus 19 weeks (probably less) until our much anticipated Baby #3 is born, and we’re all (especially the boys!) getting more and more excited about its arrival. The boys also want a dog, and a cat, and a garden, because “we big 4- and 5-year-old boys now and can be do more and we promise to help with the baby boy no I want a girl and feed it and wipe it I promise Daddy and Papa okay please I’ll be good okay please?”
Two weeks is plenty for a vacation, and we’ve got so much fun to look forward to. I can picture myself at home unpacking these suitcases we’ve been living out of and finally machine washing these clothes we’ve been recycling. I can’t wait to stock the refrigerator and wash the car and make the beds. Bring on the sweeping and the repairing and the play date planning and the organizing.
Because there’s no place like home.