Milking vacation for all it’s worth | Jan’s Journal

May 20, 2009

Lately, it seems as if everyone travels somewhere during school breaks.

Last year we went to Mexico because my husband found a deal. It was an excellent package with such drastic savings he couldn’t possibly pass it up. The trip was then considered almost free. That’s fine and dandy I comment, but we still had to eat. Nothing is complimentary in that department. Especially if you drink alcoholic beverages — suddenly the incredibly cheap arrangement turns into a vast snarling credit card debt waiting gleefully for your return to civilization.

This spring break, we opted to stay put for a few reasons. Number one, we didn’t feel comfortable leaving my father-in-law for a week. Number two, there just wasn’t a good enough deal. My husband mulled it over though — some friends were cruising to Mexico and it was tempting.

However, common sense won out. Our 9-year-old daughter took the news the hardest. “What do you mean we aren’t going anywhere?” she screeched as she stomped her little foot. I immediately berated myself for her obvious delusions of grandeur. “Everyone is going somewhere!” she wailed plaintively. Time for a reality check, I noted, as I stared in awe at how much ruckus this petite creature could make.

Our eighth-grade son shrugged his shoulders, and then stated his demands: “OK, if we aren’t going anywhere, then I want 100 percent whole milk for the entire week.” I wrinkled my brow in confusion. “That’s what you consider a vacation to be? Drinking whole milk?” If I’d known that, we could have saved a heck of a lot of money over the years.

Unfortunately, I balked on the whole milk, opting for healthier 2 percent, which after skim tastes like cream to me. I took some flak for the 2 percent, as it was considered only half a vacation. Hey, I bought full-fat version chocolate milk too, which rivals Mexico.

Evaluating the situation, the real reason our children expect fancy vacations is because, during financially secure times, splurges like vacations happen. Explaining the facts of life — no, the other facts of life, like only extra money equals vacations — is a lesson I thought I had already taught them. But the deals were too enticing for my weak husband to abstain from, and for too many consecutive years, so now our kids feel they are entitled.

Wow, if you give your kids a real pony every year, then visiting the zoo just doesn’t cut it.

How different to see the world through the eyes of a child. As a mom, if I had one day where I didn’t have to be anywhere, or battle deadlines with homework or kids’ activities, that would be a liberated whole-milk sunny day.

Our junior in high school showed the most maturity — and melancholy touched me for a moment as I realized that she’s a young adult. She was elated that we weren’t traipsing off somewhere. That meant she could get her homework done, and sleep in every day. Vacations mean something special to everyone — how interesting, I mused. All three children managed to fill up their days with play dates (apparently, not everyone left), chugging 2 percent milk and reading library books. My husband worked. How else would he pay for our next big discounted journey? I’m positive it’s out there somewhere.

This Memorial Day weekend, once again, everyone seems to be going away, while we’re happily staying home. I’m planning to partake in mega yard work, and surprise everyone with a gallon of whole milk. Sounds like a great deal to me.