So Long, Farewell...

Auf wiedersehen, good night. I really do hate to go and leave this lovely sight. Jamaica is amazing. I can't believe it's already Monday. When I'm done this, I have to start packing. Sigh.

I know, I know. No one out there feels sorry for me.

But you wouldn't want to leave this, either, would you?

I didn't think so.

Sunny Days

Well, Wiggle Man got his Sesame breakfast after all. We didn't realise it was going on until after the office had closed for the evening, so I was worried we wouldn't get in. But get in we did, and I'm so glad. It was a blast. They had all the characters show up, and take pictures with each child. The kids got gift bags, too, which was a nice touch, I thought.

The breakfast was in the same restaurant where Hubba Hubba and I had dinner last night. A bit of a transformation from the quiet, romantic, white gloved service atmosphere to:




Speaking of date night with Hubba Hubba, I wish I'd brought my camera. The reasons for that are twofold. One: the only picture we have of Hubba Hubba and I dressed up on our date was taken by one of the resort employees on their camera, and when we looked at it this morning in the photo hut I hated it. I'm sitting all sideways-ey and it looks like I have no neck. Two: I can't show you the awesome appetizer I had. I ordered tropical fruits in a pineapple hut, thinking it would come in some sort of pineapple cup. Nope--it actually was a little pineapple hut, complete with pineapple roof. I almost didn't want to eat it.

I did, though.

Back to breakfast: what a great job the resort did. There was a DJ playing Sesame Street music, all the decorations were Sesame Street, and I love how each employee, from the Kids Camp counselors to the wait staff, really seem to love the kids.

This is one of Wiggle Man's new favourite loveys, chillin' with us at breakfast:



The only slight disappointment so far has been that the resort is shooting some marketing photos today, so we couldn't use the beach or the pools. Here's the photographer's chopper. Is it wrong that I wanted to shake my fist in anger at him every time I saw him?




We were pretty upset at first, but the customer relations team came through. All the guests today had their choice of various complimentary tours and attractions--we chose a local water park, thinking Wiggle Man would love it.

We were wrong. Evidently, the kids pool area terrified him, as did the lazy river. Who knew that giant buckets of water landing on your head, and flipping over in a tube with your Dad on the lazy river could be scary?

So, we headed to another resort we'd been given access to, and spent the rest of the day on the beach there.

And finally, to finish things off, more photographic proof that I am indeed on vacation. Yes, I'm pretty red...sunscreen only goes so far, apparently. Happily, I'm darkening to a nice beige today. (I never really get nice and brown. I just stop looking the colour of paper.) Like my diva sunglasses? I tried some "fierce" poses yesterday...I don't think Tyra would be proud.

Good Morning, Sunshine

I love how quickly we can adjust to a new routine. Morning in Jamaica starts the same way: Wiggle Man wakes up, cuddles in bed with us for about 2.45 seconds, and then immediately wants to go out onto the balcony.

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.

Where's Froggy?

Did you ever read those Where's Waldo books as a kid? That's what this picture reminded Hubba Hubba of:

I found this guy on our balcony this morning. As soon as Wiggle Man is fully awake, he wants to go out on the balcony. I've probably said it before, but the kid would live outside, if we'd let him.

Here's a shot of the little guy up close. (The frog, that is. Not Wiggle Man.)

Cute, right? I thought so. Hubba Hubba just grumbled that Froggy was one of those stinkers making all that racket last night.

I absolutely love our resort here. The people in charge of the kids programs are fabulous, and Wiggle Man has taken right to them. There's so much for kids to do here, and plenty of relaxing things for me to do.

Yesterday there was a Sesame Street parade. Wiggle Man seems to think that Elmo (or any of the characters, really) are his own personal friends. I've heard some kids are afraid of the characters in costume. We can't keep our kid away from them long enough for the other kids to get hugs.

Did you see the movie Elf? You know the scene where Buddy's in New York, and he finds out Santa's coming to Gimbels, and he says "Santa's coming? I KNOW him!" I swear that's exactly what Wiggle Man is thinking about Elmo whenever he sees him. "I KNOW him!"

After the parade it was time for dinner on the beach.

I love Jamaica....

Bring....Me....

Two pina coladas, one for each hand....or maybe just one--I mean, no need to go crazy, or anything. Although I have to say--these are the best pina coladas ever. We even made a Baby Colada for Wiggle Man. Before you call Family Services, relax. It was a tiny bit of the frozen mix (sans alchohol) mixed with a lot of milk. He loved it.

If you're family, you're glad to know we got here safe and sound. If not, well, you might just be jealous of this:

We're here in beautiful Jamaica, and we may not leave. Ok, we probably will have to leave. But I won't want to.

We had a pretty uneventful trip here. Wiggle Man slept on me most of the plane ride. Which made that the hottest plane ride ever. Seriously, the kid's a heat pump. The only drama we had was the shuttle ride to our resort. (Which was still cool. We drove through the town where they filmed Cool Runnings.) However, it turns out that Wiggle Man inherited more than my love for carbs--he also gets carsick, just like Mommy.

Unlike Mommy, though, he actually threw up.

There we were, driving crazily across the island, music pumping, and Hubba Hubba shouting for the poor driver to pull over. Did you know diapers make excellent barf bags? True fact.

Once we arrived, though, he was all smiles and giggles. He'd live in the pool, if we'd let him. He was less excited by the beach, but I have hope. He is my son, after all. And he loves it here. He won't want to leave, either. Unless, of course, he can take these guys with him:

Cookie Monster just walked by. I blew him a kiss--he returned the favour. Don't tell Hubba Hubba.

I'm off to find me a pina colada.

And then there were three...

Three people sick, that is.

Yes, Wiggle Man, Hubba Hubba and I are big on sharing with our friends. So, after Wiggle Man shared his germs with Daddy, we thought we'd share them with our friends who were kind enough to let us visit them on our way home from the wedding.

This was a long awaited visit--we haven't seen them since I was preggers with Wiggle Man, and had been trying to plan a visit for awhile now, but the craziest things kept getting in the way. So, it was kind of a huge bummer when Hubba Hubba got sick pretty much as soon as we arrived here. I thought we were out of the woods because Wiggle Man was back to his wiggly self.

I forgot that grown-ups get sick, too.

Then, as Hubba Hubba rounded the corner last night, I thought we could at least enjoy one last day with our friends, with everyone healthy. Until I got up, and The Queen of Cards was sick in the bathroom.

Apparently the flu is no respecter of royalty.

This week did provide the opportunity for what I'm calling "The Greatest Achievement of My Parenting Career." (That's more impressive if you imagine it in a sports announcer sort of voice.)

Thanks to Wiggle Man's Vomit-O-Rama on the way up to the wedding, our car smelled like bad cheese, with reminiscences of the Smelly Cheese Van. No amount of scrubbing and Febreezing was taking care of this. So I was driven to do the one thing I never wanted to have to do: remove the car seat cover.

Please understand that merely adjusting the straps before installing said car seat the first time reduced me to tears and cursing. This was not a job I ever wanted to do. But Hubba Hubba was still sick, and The Queen of Cards and I needed to make a Target run. Preferably in a car that didn't reek of cheese.

It took me hours, friends, but I did it. The cover was removed, washed, dried, and put back on, all minus the (not so helpful anyway) instruction manual.

In my head, the Rocky theme played while I did a victory dance.