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The Fever Baby Who Vacations

Fever Baby Sleeps

No matter how much preparing one can do for a vacation with their littles…things, they just always end up happening differently than one would necessarily desire. Or envision.

It’s like the unwritten rule of the parenting universe. When will those ghastly Lords of Fate stop picking on us poor parents already?

I can’t say I was totally naive about the possibilities, we just thought maybe we had it all figured out. Or something.

Silly parents, right?

Because of course babies are going to get sick and meltdown and/or any other horrendous occurrence that in the back of your mind, you keep ignoring the potential of. At least I did. I was all packed and armed with my toddler and baby arsenal to keep them amused, fed and chillax.

Unfortunately, Lil’ Abner started in with a mild fever the day before we left, and it hasn’t left her poor side since. It got worse (103),  the day of our departure (yesterday), and her eyes were weeping a lot, so to the doctor we went, to come back with prescriptions for an ear infection. Which makes the thought of flying and all of that turbulence super exciting, indeed. Surprisingly, the change in air pressure for take-off and landings didn’t seem to bother her or her brother. Phew. I on the other hand, always have a tough go of it. Did I mention she puked on me? Normal, yes? Quit my kvetching, I know.

All in all – aside from a short moment (during a rather mighty period of melt-down’s, pukes and epic poonami’s in very close quarters), between the mister and I where we looked at each other and both said, ‘I’m so over this’. Both of our littles did quite well. Troopers.

All worth it though, for our final destination to be at an all inclusive in Mexico? The bomb-diggity. I mean, right now I’m blogging from my deck overlooking a decadent pool and endless swishy palm trees. Music to my ears. It’s a very family friendly resort, although it was like pulling teeth to get situated. (Although they did greet us with icy champagne for the win). After arriving at near midnight, we had to wait over another hour for Abby’s crib, which thankfully – she was feeling a little better than earlier in the day and was happy to explore the room with her bro. Did they sleep in? Naaaaay.

Again. Silly parents, right?

Asking for an electric kettle to boil water for Abby’s formula? Treated like I was from Mars. It took 3 rounds of the concierge staff bringing me other whoozits and whatnots (coupled with me partaking in charades and acrobatics), before they picked up what I was laying down. Electric. Kettle. I’m sure the language barrier had something to do with that, but still. My bebe had to eat.

Also? While I can’t really fault the staff for wanting to keep us well lubricated (beers ahoy!) The incessant door knocking and phone ringing (loud), is so not our friend during nap-time. Am I really complaining about the kind of room service I used to dream about? (The constant cold beer delivery part). I guess I am. Because we’re certainly not getting smashed on the daily with our littles underfoot, mmk? It took me a few asks, but I finally got a Do Not Disturb card from the staff, and hey – they only woke up fever baby and her bro twice. No biggie. Putting them back down is a snap. Easy breezy. Cake walk. So they must think.

Silly must-be-non-parents, right?

More On The Babbles…

Babies Who Rule: Chubster Edition
10 Disgusting, Hilarious & Weird Facts About Motherhood
An Open Letter To (Overzealous) Breastfeeding Lactivists

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