09.07.09 :: 8:07 am

talk about a supposedly fun thing i'll never do again.

this lady needs a vacation from her vacation.

we are back. definitely sporting tans that belie the abject torture we went through.

to put it simply: never ever travel with a baby. Ever. It's just wrong to do it. Keep them ensconced in their insular lives until they are fifteen and can be placated with a Nintendo DS on a ten hour flight.

Dear Christ.

Oliver's sleep went to hell and back and back again due to the time change and he never really got the hang of taking a bath in another bathtub (the HORROR!!!) and it was just a Sisyphean nightmare getting my batshit insane family to remotely comprehend why it's NOT OK TO SLAM DOORS ALL HOURS OF THE NIGHT when a baby is in the house.

We are for real here, apparently.
With the smoking in the baby's face, amongst other things.

How I even managed to accomplish a tan is still kind of miraculous to me, considering the amount of time we spent chasing after Oliver and making sure he wasn't drowning himself in the sea or falling down an open shaft or getting bitten (again) by the jealous family dog.


Never again.

Although I will say that it was a tremendous experience for the little tyke, who grew about three inches (I swear), ate fresh fish almost every day, played like he never played before, spent most of his waking hours outdoors and running, witnessed turtles for the first time and also turtles having sex - lots of sex - for the first time, and was quite well behaved and well adjusted considering the facts.

Pictures of the delightful, absurd mess forthcoming.

I never thought I'd be so glad to see Brooklyn after a romp in the Greek isles.
Times they are a changin.

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