If I were planning a dream vacation for myself, it would be really simple. At the end of the day, I am easy to please. All I would need is some good weather, a beach chair, a towel, some sunglasses, a book, and an iced tea. Occasionally, I’d like to stop to eat a meal or two and to cool off with a dip in the pool.

But, you see, easy is not a word that comes into play when vacationing with the family. There’s absolutely zero ability to be selfish. You can’t just say, “Hey kids, go ahead and feed yourselves and apply your own sunscreen and reapply your sunscreen and I’m just going to lie over here and work on my book.”

It goes a little bit more like this… Breakfast is served. Bowls of cereal poured, drinks gotten, doughnuts eaten, messes made, messes cleaned up, dishes placed in dishwasher. Swimsuits are put on, towels are folded, sunscreen is applied, and gear is packed up. You are ready to go and someone has to use the bathroom. When you finally make it to the beach your feet are tired from carrying the gear plus your youngest child who forgot his flip-flops. You sit for a minute, but soon you are collecting seashells and before you know it you are waist high in the ocean, pretending that it doesn’t freak you out and you love the ocean. Something slimy swims past your legs and you might have possibly just stepped on a fish head. Then you’re helping to bury children in the sand and reapplying sunscreen. You crunch sand in your mouth while trying to photograph your normally-terrified-of-water daughter suddenly splashing around in the waves.

Lunch. Sandwiches are made, drinks gotten, chips eaten, messes made, messes wiped up, dishes put in dishwasher. Suits are put on, towels are folded and sunscreen is applied and gear is packed up. You are ready to go and someone has to use the bathroom. You head for the pool and realize you forgot the floaties. Everyone wants to go in the hot tub. Five minutes later everyone wants to go in the big pool. One child is hungry. Another child is hungry. Still another has to go to the bathroom and they also are hungry. The kids beg you to swim with them. The youngest wants to go back to the beach.

You bribe the children out of the pool with promises of ice cream after dinner. Shower one child, shower another, and then shower the reluctant-to-bathe youngest. You go to dinner and pray that your children will behave. They won’t because they’ve been in the sun all day and are exhausted. You make several trips to the bathroom, scarf down your meal, overpay for it, and leave a big tip because at least you won’t be cleaning up more dishes.

You bring the children home and try to put them all to bed in the same room. Three hours later you finally sit down. You have a glass of wine and eat ice cream with your sister that you didn’t intend to eat. You finally go to bed knowing that tomorrow will be lather, rinse, and repeat.

And you kiss three sun-kissed smiling faces. And you smile because even though there were whines during the day, and far too many trips to the bathroom, too much sand everywhere, too much junk food, too much crying, too many messes, and no rest for the weary, your three kids are having the time of their lives and enjoying the dream vacation that they had dreamed for themselves. They are with their cousins and aunts and uncles. They are eating ice cream, staying up late, and swimming in the ocean for the first time. They are spending every single minute of every single day with their mom and dad. There’s no homework, bedtimes, morning alarms, or having to wear anything but a bathing suit.