Ten straight days of togetherness, and we survived it. Six out of seven of us even enjoyed it!
I will undoubtedly get around to blogging more about our once-in-a-lifetime Disney cruise to Alaska.
The way we convinced our kids that taking pictures standing outside on a windy, freezing ship deck in the middle of glacierful Alaska is worthwhile, enjoyable,
and crazy fun.
But, for now, just a quick update to say, “We’re home!” and to tell you about the thing I miss the most.
The Disney Cruiseline Facebook page, which I OF COURSE follow (doesn’t everyone?), occasionally posts questions like: When you come home from a Disney Cruise, what do you miss the most?
Hundreds of people answer: The food! The kids’ clubs! The wait staff! Room service!
And I love all of those things. I do, I do. But, honestly, I also love sleeping in my own bed and getting my kids back to a routine, so I always have a difficult time answering that question. What do I miss the most?
Well, we’ve been home for 24 hours, and I feel like I have my answer.
We arrived home last night just before 9:00pm after an 11-hour roadtrip.
(Which I realize is nothing compared to my friend Heidi’s Oregon-to-Georgia-and-back roadtrip with her kids and her silly, can-do attitude. Or Carina’s east-coast roadtrip with her even littler kids and her equally silly, can-do attitude. But I’m a whiner, and we were tired. And it was 11 hours. And we were tired.)
(Tired, I tell you.)
To be fair, we weren’t hungry. (Good grief. After cruising, we should never eat again.)
But we were a little bit, completely sick of each other. Impatient. Crabby. Ready to be done. He-poked-me!-But-she-hit-me-first! done.
Greg and I put the kiddos to bed, and they fell asleep in record time.
I unpacked nothing except my toothbrush and face wash. There was no energy left for my usual luxury items like deoderant and shampoo. I apologized to the rest of my body parts and told my teeth and face that they were going to have to carry the clean banner for everyone else. It was a lot of pressure, but they said they’d do their best.
Unfortunately, as I squeezed my face wash into my hand, I realized that the past 10 days of cruise travel did nothing to prepare me to come back home. No. I’m afraid to say, in my time away, I became accustomed to the high life.
Lavishness. Extravagance. Opulence.
In a word…
As I stood there last night staring at the glob of face wash in my palm, I realized I lost the joy of washing as I used to do, by scrubbing my hands onto my bare flesh and then splashing water about until the slippery soap disappears. Blindly groping for a towel that I didn’t locate before soaking my eyes in runny make-up and astringent face cleaners. Grabbing the closest piece of cloth-like material from off my dirty bathroom floor and hoping that whatever’s on it isn’t as bad as whatever’s leaching into my eyes.
I longed for a bright, white, clean, soft bit o’ cloth sitting conveniently next to my immaculate, stateroom sink. Waiting… no, begging… me to soak it in hot water, breathe in its mild bleach-and-fabric-softener scent, and color it foundation-orange, lipstick-pink and mascara-black.
A wash cloth I could use, abuse, and then toss into the shower only to find it replaced, dry and folded, by the sink the next day.
A magical, fresh, self-replenishing washcloth.
A spotless, unsoiled, daily miracle.
One week ago, we sailed on the Disney Wonder.
And today I can tell you what I miss the most.
It was a Wonder-ful trip, indeed.
(Washcloth, if you’re reading this, call me. XOXO.)