on family vacations and sleep.

We had ourselves a vacation.

A family vacation.

These types of vacations are far less restful than the kind Nick and I used to take.  Vacation was formerly synonymous with "sleeping in" and "romance."  Sleeping in?  Owen swore off sleep as soon as the car arrived in Pensacola.

The hotel we stayed in provided cribs.  What they didn't specify is that they would be supplying the world's most uncomfortable crib ever.  Like the kind they must have had in Tom Riddle's orphanage.  It was made of metal, which got really cold.  The mattress felt like they had glued two pieces of cardboard together.  Nick began to refer to the crib as "baby jail."  I think Owen was plotting escape and fashioning a prison shank out of his pacifier.

And how do you lay a baby down to sleep in a hotel room, where he can see you, and say, "Go to sleep now!"  He just sat up and watched us watching TV and was like "I understand you spent many hours constructing a schedule that would allow me to function at my utmost potential, but I just really want to watch Jimmy Buffett music videos with you"  Actually what he said was "Neee Neee" which is his mad sound.

"Neee"  

Well, with a baby not napping you can imagine he crashed at some odd times.

 Like in the beach tent which we had just arrived in after spending two and a half hours in our room trying to get him to nap.

And of course he slept with us in our large, ridiculously comfortable King Bed.  Nick found this on Fail Blog, which pretty much sums up why our vacation did not include the word "romance."

click to enlarge.