Eventually we convince him that if he wants to do anything other than play on the balcony all day, he needs to get dressed. This means chasing him around the bed and wrestling him into his clean diaper and clothes.
Even before breakfast, he starts pointing towards the pool and signing "more"--his way of saying "please". It takes more cajoling to get him to agree to eat breakfast. Then it's back to the room for another showdown to get him ready for swimming.
In addition to the pools and beaches, the resort has a mini water park with slides, a lazy river, and a fountain of sorts, with water shooting up everywhere. This is one of Wiggle Man's favourite things:
Today we finally got him to play at the beach. (He's been a pool baby up until today.) He didn't seem to fond of the sand; yesterday he wouldn't even walk on it. Thankfully, today there were boats and a water trike on the beach--these distracted him long enough to get him used to walking on the sand. Now we have a hard time getting him to leave the beach.
I love chubby feet on a beach.
And, lest you start to question whether I'm actually here on vacation, here's a picture of me. Yes, my hair is fluffy and curly. Yes, I brought my straightener, but quickly realised there was just no point. Even if I weren't in and out of the water all day, the humidity here has my hair going in all directions. And so, I wave the white flag of surrender. But not before at least attempting to tame it with clippies.