We're having one of those stay-home vacations. I refuse to use that dorky made-up word to refer to it. You can't make me. Just stop trying.
Anyway. We're doing it. Dog surgery plus my dental work plus car accident equals no expendable money for going to the mountains as we'd planned. Poop.
But so far, I'm digging this staying home business. No lugging of dozens of toys for Hannah to occupy herself. No mid-afternoon "no you can't watch any more television today" whining festivals. No dog boarding, thank goodness. And so far: no cooking. Although I love cooking, I don't love the clean up as much, and I'm happy to eat out any chance I get.
Today we went to the library, the serendipitous craft festival downtown, and then came home for a nap (me and Dave) and solitary play time (Hannah). Hannah really needs some private time everyday to keep from being a complete whiny beast. Today I'm pretty sure she was playing Dominic, as in the children's novel by William Steig. She was tramping around the back yard in her sun hat and backpack, examining things through the otoscope she took out of her doctor's kit, and collecting things to put in her back pack. Every now and then I'd see her refer to a small, cloth-bound novel she pulled out of her back pack. Now that I think of it, she could have been playing Magic Tree House. I try not to ask questions; it makes her self-conscious, and she stops.
This is just the first day. Tonight we're planning to go to a baseball game, and we have one day trip planned for each day next week. I fully intend to honor Happy Hour as often as possible. We'll go to the beach, if I can work it in. And, although I'll take a break to see clients on Monday, I'm looking forward to the rest of my home-bound vacation much more than I expected.