Do You Ever Suffer From Postpartum Vacation Depression?

Why is it that after you come back from vacation you need a few days to recuperate from your vacation? The only thing I managed to do on my “Eat, Pray, Love” vacation was eat. No praying. No love. I did have adult beverages, but I think that goes into the “Eat” category. I left very happy, but not remotely more wise about the meaning of life. The incredible massage at Spa Montage somewhat balanced the hip soreness from busting a groove dancing. It was, however, fucking awesome to get away for a while. No one hugged me while I was sitting on the toilet. (Ann tried a few times so I would feel like I was at home but I rebuffed her.) I didn’t have to wash anyone but myself or get anyone but me ready for dinner. I didn’t lose a single person on the beach (recall Charleston, S.C. on spring break).  The Montage Resort Laguna Beach was truly heaven.
My friend, Ann, and I have a different approach to life. Neither is better, just unique. While she sat next to me on a lounge chair at the pool soaking up the sunshine, I cowered from the sun. I laid under an umbrella wearing a 50 SPF rash guard, 110 SPF (Ann didn’t know you could buy SPF that high) on my face, 100 SPF on the rest of my body, sunglasses and a wide-brimmed beach hat. I was not letting any of the beautiful fucking sunshine touch me. My husband keeps telling me I’m going to die of Vitamin D deficiency, but that’s okay by me. At least that’s more creative than cancer. The rash guard is white with long sleeves and makes me look like a futuristic mental patient. Envisioning me now, I must have looked a bit odd. Ann, on the other hand, burned her chest rather impressively.
Another example of our divergent approaches was how we shopped at The Candy Baron candy shop.
postpartem vacation depression
This is Ann. She’s shopping for candy for her teenage boys back home. So sweet.
postpartem vacation depression
This was my focus in the candy shop. I asked for something “boob-centric” and this is what the shop owner came up with. No, I did not buy a candy g-string, but how awesome is that? Who couldn’t use more Candy posing pouch in their lives? And don’t you think the teenage boys would have loved this gift over the white chocolate popcorn Ann thoughtfully bought for them? Just sayin’.
postpartem vacation depression

It’s hard to return to the real world after vacation.