Planning Our Relaxing Family Vacation Is The Single Most Exhausting Thing I Do All Year

Family vacations are supposed to be exciting adventures with the ones you love the most. I've always pictured a glass of chilled Sauvignon Blanc in hand, my husband in tow, and the kids asleep in their color-coordinated pajamas. That's what I hoped for my vacations, but they've been the exact opposite. Instead of exploring new places and making lasting memories, they've become my annual reminder that, as a mom, my labor starts weeks before anyone even steps foot in the car or onto a plane.

A few months ago, I embarked on what my husband called a "low-stress, fun getaway," but in reality, it was the single most stressful thing I did all year. By the time we got to the resort, I regretted my decision to go and wished I had stayed home to binge Bravo housewives.

My left eye twitched for 10 hours straight — the duration of the flight — and my jaw was so tight I thought I had permanently realigned my teeth. As we walked into the godforsaken resort, my husband dared to ask, "Hey, what's for breakfast tomorrow?" The question enraged me. It was a specific kind of rage that only a woman who spent all her time meticulously planning a vacation could feel. Yes, I screamed internally.

Let me take you back to where it all started.

The Invisible Labor of Vacation Planning

It started with booking a vacation to Grenada for my family of five: two adults, two kids, and a dog. This is something that requires a Master's in logistics and disaster management. As a mom, no one warns you about the invisible labor that goes into the planning phase. My husband's contribution is a destination and his wallet, but I'm always deep in the logistical trenches.

I worry about packing everyone's suitcases, finding flight deals, booking hotels, arranging transportation, managing snack inventories, assembling first aid kits, tracking charging cords, and building activity schedules, to name a few.

Just when I click "confirm" and think I'm done, I'm hit with dietary requests, luggage weight limits, and TSA rules. I spent endless nights researching things like how my car seat is somehow bigger than my suitcase. Seriously, how is that even legal?

Next comes accommodations. As a picky traveler, I sit at my computer until I find a cozy hotel that doesn't require selling our kidneys to afford. I read every single review, dot every T, and cross every I. My husband's opinion is always the same: "Oh, just pick one." I admire him and resent him at the same time. All this meticulous planning was supposed to make the trip smooth, but the reality was chaos. Little did I know, this level of stress was about to nearly ruin my marriage.

The Illusion of Fun

Planning excursions, fun day trips, sightseeing, or any other activities requires balancing countless factors. I had to anticipate the weather, consider everyone's moods, account for energy levels, and factor in travel time. My kids always lose a shoe, go to the bathroom every 10 minutes, and by the time they are done, I am exhausted, uninterested, and questioning my life choices.

While it's commonly believed that kids can have fun and adults can relax on vacation, moms barely do. I've been the planner, chauffeur, negotiator, translator, snack supplier, and occasional therapist. I've learned how to fit into all these roles while trying to find a small pocket of joy for myself.

By day three of our vacation in Grenada, I was operating on guilt and irritation. I love my family, but I was frustrated when they left their socks everywhere or when the kids lost their toys. I even cried over a sandcastle that didn't survive high tide. But I had to pull myself together quickly because the vacation depended on me. That pressure was already bleeding into my marriage, whether I admitted it or not.

How Vacation Planning Almost Ended My Marriage

By the middle of most trips, tensions run high due to planning burnout, and minor frustrations turn into massive arguments. Recently, my husband kept suggesting last-minute activities I hadn't planned for while I struggled to keep everyone on schedule. He thought I was being too controlling, and I felt he was being inconsiderate and unsupportive. Everything went downhill from there.

One night, after a particularly messy day involving a lost hotel key, a missed reservation, and two hungry kids, we ended up in a full-blown argument. Voices were raised, and I started crying. I distinctly remember thinking that vacation planning was going to ruin our marriage.

My husband stormed off, and I didn't see him until late that night. He then asked for a different room. On most vacations, we've gone back and forth about things, but this explosion was on another level. And I don't mean that in a vague, we'll-laugh-about-this-later way.

I realized that if I didn't set boundaries, share responsibilities, or communicate my needs, I would remain the sole caretaker while everyone else enjoyed the vacation. This realization didn't come immediately. It only surfaced once our communication started to crumble. It was a wake-up call.

Why Moms End Up Doing Everything

Ever heard of the default parent trap? It's the idea that if I don't book the flights, we won't go on vacation, and if I don't pack everyone's bags, we'll arrive at our destination with no luggage. Moms take on the magician's role in society. They "make it all happen." We believe that if we don't do it, it will never get done, or worse, it will be done poorly.

But the cost of that magic has been my sanity. While my husband is capable and supportive in many ways, I've accepted that vacation planning isn't one of them, and I've always carried the invisible labor.

Recognizing this trap taught me that delegation, boundaries, and clear communication aren't just nice to have; they're necessary. I also realized that letting things fail a little isn't the end of the world. It's part of teaching everyone in the family to share responsibility.

My Sanity-Saving Rules for Next Year

After our last vacation, I decided something had to change going into the new year. When my husband and I fell out in Grenada that night, we had a conversation where I admitted I couldn't handle everything on my own. He admitted he hadn't realized how much work it was. Together, we came up with a list of non-negotiables to help me actually enjoy a vacation before I'm 80.

Next year, we'll split the tasks down the middle. I'll handle the flights and lodging. He'll handle the experiences, including food, transportation, and activities, once we land. If he forgets to make a reservation, I won't step in. I'm willing to let things fail so he can understand the weight I've been carrying.

Most importantly, complaining won't be allowed. We'll appreciate each other's efforts, even if the activities are excruciatingly boring. We'll also schedule alone time so we can relax and recharge.

Finally, my husband will be responsible for packing for himself and our son, while I'll pack for myself and our daughter. If they show up in mismatched outfits, we'll still embrace the experience. We'll both oversee the big picture. This way, everyone contributes, everyone gets to enjoy the vacation, and it might finally be as relaxing as we imagined.

If that sounds all too relatable, hand your husband the checkout to-do list and wish him luck; he's going to need it. But something's got to give, because no one should come home from vacation more exhausted than when they left.