Spring broken

At least we didn't have to pack

Do you know what a Staycation is?  It’s new-millennium-speak for “Hell no, we ain’t going anywhere for Spring Break!”  It is also a code word that means, “I’m exhausted”.  Last week was “Private School Spring Break” in Atlanta.  It is the second week in March and way too cold for the beach, but just right for the ritzy slopes out West.  We aren’t skiers.  Luckily we learned that with relatively little expense last year in North Carolina.  Both kids acted like complete jackasses and the little one ended up making snow angels of fury off to the side.

There is no short supply of self inflicted guilt from not giving the kids an amazing, and by amazing, I mean $$$, Spring Break.  So, I planned all sorts of activities to fill the days.  Why are we so afraid, as parents, to let our children experience boredom?  I’ll tell you why.  It’s because we have to listen to them whine about it, which then escalates into a full out spar in the living room.  It is much better to just suck it up and get out of the house.

Laser tag

Monday morning saw the inaugural opening of the wallet.  For $12.50 a pop we went to play laser tag and run around in some indoor place that was akin to a Chuck E. Cheese with out the foul pizza or the weird band of animatronic rats.  I sat out on the actual laser tag, not flinching at all when a pimply, twenty-something year old kid took about nine children into a dark, windowless room alone for about 20 minutes and brought them back slightly glazed with sweat and out of breath.  I mean, we’re on vacation, right?  Everyone’s “no-no places” appeared to be in tact.

Naps like an F-18

The tone was set for the week.  Like Charlie Sheen, we had one speed: GO.  There was fro-yo for lunch, hiking by the river, a tour of the Fabulous Fox Theater given by the worst docent ever, going to see Rango (two thumbs up!), pizza in Little 5 Points, Dave and Busters, Peter Pan in the 360, painting a bedroom, a “field trip” to Ikea, bookstore loafing, hanging out with friends, dinner with grandparents and an aunt all capped off by the riveting footage from Japan.

And there were several things that we didn’t get around to, like getting my closet organized, trail riding or going to look for unicorns at Fernbank.  Oh, well.  They’re probably fakes anyway.  I feel like I need three solid days with my snuggie and some Tracy Gold Lifetime movies to recover from this Spring Break-with-Reality.

From "For the Love of Nancy", where Tracy plays hungry