Well we did it. 20 plus adults, 7 kids 7 and under, three generations all embarked on a family vacation to a resort in Hilton Head and my hesitation upon the news that this was what we were about to do (as I’m a high stress, high anxiety in crowded situations) completely faded when we got here. I’ve said this before and truly believe it: we are in the sweet spot. We have a 5 and 7 year old that listen to everything word we say. They don’t talk back, they typically don’t cry and we don’t have meltdowns. We are past that so when others are seemingly in the presence of all of the above I finally get to take a breath and relish that those days are gone. I’m sure the future will bring other obstacles but as of right now we are in the clear. I’m not quite sure I’ll be able to eloquently describe the adventures in the comedic way it plays out in my mind but man is it all funny to me. The idea that each of these family members would fly, drive, and use any mode of transportation to get to see each other in one place at one time is refreshing. With so many busy schedules, so many kids, so many grandparents, aunts, uncles, etc. it’s nice to know that everyone wants to make the effort to spend time with one another. There’s zero chance my side of the family would have made it past the first email of where to go without a fight let alone pack bags and actually travel to a destination to be together. You’d think the logistics of handling all of this would be a challenge. I mean there are days I struggle to get a family picture let alone a reservation for 30 people somewhere. But we all made it work.

Six of us flew from Boston to Savannah then piled into my first ever ride in a mini van (surprisingly it’s not as bad as I originally thought sorry to any minivan drivers but the stereotype of being that mom had me judging hard – but I must say the convenience of the mom bus was quite lovely) we landed around lunch time and did a quick drive through Wendy’s nothing like adding a chicken sandwich and fries to my mom bod for bikini wearing. The hour drive to Savannah got a little dicey at the end when we stopped to get sunscreen and goggles and a massive box of liquor. The kids were sick of traveling (and rightfully so) but priorities.

Day 1. Rousing success. Kids swam parents drank, grandparents hovered.

Dinner was pizza and wings. Ordered. Delivered. Devoured. Zero Drama.

Day 2. More of the same. I snuck in a spa treatment that made me feel like a celebrity. Kids played at the pool the entire day. Grandma and I made everyone PBJ fruit salad, and snacks. Kids crushed it no crying, one possible allergy issue (not to peanuts but to something) luckily there are a lot of doctors in this group and they didn’t seem worried so. More pool. Rest time. Kids dinner. Adult dinnner (and lots of drinks). Grandparents watched the kids my heart was full to see all kids in one room cuddled and huddled to watch shows and hang out together. How lucky. Zero Drama.

Day 3. The last full day is always the best but it’s also the most exhausting. The beach was perfect (minus the jelly fish) but by 2 pm I was sick of the sun, had sand in every crevasse and just felt over it. The kids were tired but powering through like champs. I was over the drinks portion so I stuck to water and carried on with the day and night. We all ate dinner out at a Mediterranean restaurant together. One long, loud, lovely dinner with live music. It was so special and sweet. We got back to the hotel in a bus. Made our final trip to the beach together in the dark. All was great until Ethan threw sand in Maia’s eyes which put an end to the fun real fast. It was bedtime anyway so we said our goodbyes and off to bed we went. Now wait for it — nothing like saving the best for last. We were sound asleep, pitch black room, woken to the piercing sound of the fire alarm. It was 6:30am so not crazy but in a super disoriented state we got the kids out. (For future I now I have a plan and never did before). We all (100s is people) emptied out into the parking lot and waited. Some kids crying. Others like mine asking questions while the fire men walked through. Rumor of a bagel. Wait for it…Uncle Mindher toasted his bagel (there were no toasters in the room) and set the fire alarm off. Nothing like ending with a Bhang. Get it? Can’t wait for next year!