If you are blessed enough to have a per diem, then room service becomes your best friend. On this trip, we were "slummin' it" at a Hampton Inn, so we didn't have room service. Which in the grand scheme of things, isn't the end of the world, but at the end of a long day corralling little humans, it can be a killer to make them socially presentable and drag them to a restaurant somewhere. Heaven did smile down on us one night when we discovered that Papa John's delivered to the hotel. It was glorious!
People without kids clearly have no idea how filthy the little buggers are. Especially when you're doing all of your living in a small hotel room. I actually got chided by the cleaning lady one day for how dirty our room was. This woman, who bless her heart, could barely speak English, managed to communicate the words, "Bad. Room bad." Gee thanks, lady.
It's not like I thought we were nailing the cleanliness thing - we had used an ungodly number of towels after our one, 30-minute excursion to the beach, and they were all piled in the corner of the bathroom in a sopping, sandy mess. Evelyn had managed to dump out a mini box of Frosted Flakes on the floor near the AC unit, and another mini box of Fruit Loops near the door. The coup de grace was giving the girls their own bags of Cheetos and then allowing them to eat them in the hotel bed. Pillows, sheets, and duvet covers managed to get liberally smeared with orange stains.
The moral of the story is, living normal life with two small children in the confines of a hotel room can get very, very sticky.
I won't even go into how you keep them busy and entertained on the days that it rains, although this morning, I did look at Evelyn, stomp my foot, and say, "No! I'm allowed to take a shower! You'll be fine!" She did not agree and spent the entire time, standing by the tub and crying. It was good times.
Just some things to remember if you ever travel to a new city with your own littles...