Boy We Are Screwed

FYI...my posts may contain affiliate links. This means that if you click on those links and make a purchase, I will receive a small commission at no cost to you. And those commissions are what makes it possible for me to blog. Thank you!

So I did something incredibly selfish this four day weekend and instead of feeling guilty about it,I’m going to gloat. My husband and I went away. Alone. Without kids. To another country. Yes, you heard me correctly. We said, to hell with the schedules, the practices, the dance classes, the driveway that needs to get redone…let’s just do something totally for ourselves. And we did. And it was fabulous and just exactly what we needed to not lose our ever loving minds with all that we’ve got going on.

And now that’s it’s over and we are back home with kids that we actually missed (until about 20 minutes after we got home, but still…), I’ve got to blog about this vacation.

We went to Sandals which is a couples only resort and that sounded absolutely lovely because when you don’t have your own kids, who the hell wants to deal with anyone else’s right? Couples only HAS to be awesome, right? Well, wrong.

Let me explain. Sandals was wonderful. The room was gorgeous, the view breathtaking and the food to die for. Seriously some of the best meals I’ve ever had in my life. We’ve gone to Beaches which is Sandals’ family oriented resort so we were familiar with the whole all inclusive and stuff yourself silly concept. So I thought going to Sandals would be the same except for the fact that there were no kids. I was wrong.

I can’t believe I’m actually saying this but I think I’d much rather go to a resort with kids or one that is family oriented. No, I didn’t hit my head on a jet ski or anything. I may not have spent the weekend with MY kids, but I spent the weekend with Kids. The next generation, that is. That generation after my own infamously named Gen X, Gen Y, or the Second (Give) Me Generation. And holy crap, folks…we are screwed.

Now I am attached to my cell phone as much as the next guy. I have two kids and a firefighter for a husband so I naturally think the worst at all times and clutch the phone, expecting it to buzz with bad news.

I have also been known to aimlessly scroll through Facebook and Twitter and check the latest stats for my book sales while laughing at the cute kitty on Pinterest.

But one of the biggest draws for me this weekend was that I was going to be a thousand miles from all that nonsense and not have to worry. I could disconnect from the world and damn, I was looking forward to it.

Hubby and I giddily dressed for dinner that first night, tossed our cell phones onto the bed and strolled down to the nearest restaurant without a care in the world. We had to wait for dinner, but, no worries…we had all the time in the world and an open bar to just sit at and stare at the ocean and have a conversation without being interrupted by phones ringing, status updates buzzing or children whining about being hungry, cold, bored or all three. For 96 whole hours it was just us.

We sat at that bar and glanced around at honeymoon couple after honeymoon couple. (We knew this because they wore dopey identifying shirts and hats and flip flops that said Bride and Groom) And our mouths just hung open.

“What are they doing?” Hubs asked as he leaned in and whispered into my ear. The way he sounded you would have thought they were making honeymoon babies on the table. But this was worse. At least that would have been entertaining. No, they were all staring at their cell phones.

I shook my head. “I…I don’t know…” I leaned over and glanced at the couple next to me. “I think they’re posting status updates and tweeting pictures of their food!” I told my husband, horror evident in my voice.

“How do they have service?” Came his incredulous question.

I don’t know. I guess they paid for WiFi or they’re roaming?”

“But that’s like a crazy mad amount of money!” He pointed out. We didn’t even want to use our cellular roaming whatever to call our kids to tell them we were alive. We figured they’d hear about it on the news if we weren’t.

I shook my head. “I know. I guess it’s worth it to them.”

I stared at these kids (yes, my 38 year old self called twenty somethings KIDS) and instead of being jealous that they could upload their Instagram pictures, I felt an incredible sadness for them. They physically could not unplug.

Maybe they just don’t get it yet. Maybe they don’t get the fact that peace and quiet is something that people with kids who have been married for almost two decades crave.

Hell knows they didn’t get that I didn’t want to hear about their seventeen bridesmaids and the fact that they were married for six days, four hours and 22 minutes (when they actually lifted their heads up to see the people around them).

One girl at the pool had a count down clock on her phone that told her how many days they had till her first anniversary. No. Seriously.

These kids were planning and waiting and now continue to plan and wait and not look around and enjoy the MOMENT. ‘Cuz the moment is fleeting. It’s gone quicker than you can imagine and all of a sudden you’re 38 years old and getting soft in the middle and wishing you enjoyed the moment more.

Maybe they’ll get it when they have kids, but I have a feeling they won’t. They’ll be too busy chronicling every minute of their future child’s life without actually enjoying it. Because they don’t know how to interact with other human beings socially, which is ironic because they cannot even last a blasted DINNER without social media.

So next time, even if we don’t bring the kids, we will be going back to the family style resort. Because just because you don’t have your kids with you, there’s no rule that says you can’t laugh at the parents with the screaming toddler and the sulky teen and mutter “sucker” under your breath. And really, that’s way more fun anyway.

One thought on “Boy We Are Screwed

  1. Pingback: Generation X Parents, iEverything, Gregor, Lazy Millennials, Police State and Historic Internet Art | Another Blue Plate Special - Generation X

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *