It’s not often that Daniel and I go on vacation just the two of us. In fact, I think this last weekend was the third time in six years. It’s hard to leave both kids behind, both logistically and because, well, you know, we actually like hanging out with them. Nonetheless, sometimes it’s really nice to spend some time on our own.
We went to Chicago for a dear friend’s wedding this weekend. The formal event was Friday night at the Drake Hotel, and the less formal celebration was on Saturday night, which gave us all day Saturday to explore the city – or lay in bed all day reading, watching TV, and doing certain other things that no longer get done in the middle of the day (by which I mean Mad Libs, of course).
I’m all for exploring, and we did rally some friends for a cool boat tour of the city which I totally enjoyed, but after that I headed “home” to the hotel room where I closed the drapes, napped, read, and napped again.
After Daniel and his sister went to the Willis Tour (aka Sears Tower), decided to skip the two hour line and rode the train to different parts of the city for fun he came in to find me in my dark cocoon and commented that he doesn’t know how I do it. He says (in all sweetness) that he would feel like a heroin addict if he spent his vacation holed up in the room like that.
To which I responded by pulling the blanket over my head and going back to sleep.
I really do wonder how long I would have to live with nothing to do to get tired of it. I mean, I’m actually a pretty active person (for the record, I ran three miles that morning), but when given the option, I will happily lay in bed and do nothing. I have to limit myself to one room service order per vacation because otherwise it would get way expensive.
I guess I’m less inclined to reclusive habits when my vacations are more outdoorsy. I just have trouble getting excited about going to the top of a really tall building. I mean, it’s a tall building. Sure, fun, but not as fabulous as the feeling I get when I finish one book and start another within five minutes.
Hold up.
In re-reading this, I am realizing that I know EXACTLY how long I can lay in bed with nothing to do before I go a little nuts. I spent three effing months on bed rest to finish gestating my baby boy. I was crazy after week two. So hey – I guess I answered that one for myself.
Still, it was a lovely, relaxing weekend. Would love to have more like them.
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