Things I Learned on a Caribbean Cruise

John and I got back Sunday from a CME cruise to the Caribbean.  Here are some of the (surprising, and not so surprising) things I learned.


1.  If you go on a cruise as a relatively fit, early-thirties couple, you will find yourself in the bottom 25th percentile of both age and girth for the ship's population.  (This lesson could actually be expanded upon to include such disturbing things as fat-roll tan-lines and XXXXL speedos, but I'll spare you all.)

2.  The extraordinarily bratty and demanding are probably a minority of any population, but in an enclosed space (even a space as large as a 15-deck cruise ship) they quickly seem to become the majority.
      
3.  Even inanities (such as "Please keep your arms and legs inside the bus at all times.") are absolutely charming when spoken with the accent of the British Virgin Islands.  Also, a car in the BVI without a horn is about as much good as a car without an engine.  You definitely need one if you are going to get around huge trucks like these. . .

. . . on crazy mountain roads like this.

(Of all the days to forget my camera, I didn't bring it as we toured Tortola, and that was the place I needed it most.  So the pictures above have been snatched from the World Wide Webs.)
4.  When given the opportunity to nap, lounge, and read as I see fit, I will a) nap every day, b) read 5 books in 5 days, and c) lounge like a cat.  And I won't get sick of it.

(Edited to add the books I read:  The Complete Short Stories of Dorothy Sayers (LOVE her and her Lord Peter stories--didn't care so much for her murderer-viewpoint stories), Spartan Gold by Clive Cussler (as ridiculous and unintentionally funny as all his books are), My Name is Asher Lev by Chaim Potok (I'm still working through my opinion on this, but it's definitely worth reading.), The American Plague by Molly Something (fascinating and disturbing--my perspective on yellow fever is forever changed), and Black Sheep by Georgette Heyer (delightful and brainless, as all her books are). )
5.  Sometimes the most memorable part of a day won't be the historic forts visited.

Or the pile of enormous cannonballs found.

Or the miles and miles and miles you walk along huge stone walls you weren't even aware existed the day before.

Sometimes the most memorable part of a day will be that my sweet military-history-obsessed husband will notice how longingly I watch all the kites being flown on a Puerto-Rican holiday in a Puerto-Rican field . . .

. . . find an abandoned, broken-down kite, . . .

. . . repair it and restring it with more discarded materials. . .

 . . . and launch it into the windy sea air patiently again and again until it finally takes flight and I giggle with delight like I'm six years old again. 

6.  A very frivolous, very yellow, very impractical pair of wedge sandals is exactly the purchase that should be made the day before embarking on an a cruise-like adventure.  It won't be regretted. 

(I think six lessons are enough for one post.  I'll continue with this tomorrow.)

To Blog, To Blog, To Blog

Quickly, quickly, I just want to share this darling chore chart PDF link for all of you moms out there who are looking for one.  I like this one because it's fast, it's easy, it's cute, and I can change the girls' chores every week if needs be.  Plus, I want to also share Sara's idea for a "Mom's Request" spot on the chore chart.  It's the most genius invention ever.  At least once a day my girls have to come to me and ask "What do you want me to do now, Mom?"  It might just be to unload the utensil rack from the dishwasher, or I might want them to clean up all the toys in the basement.  I get to decide every day.  (They can't watch She-Ra on hulu, get out the art supplies, or play with their Webkinz unless their jobs are checked off, so they're pretty motivated.)

(The above picture is not my child.  I love our chore charts, but my kids don't love them enough to pose with them.)

Visit to B-Town

You know, I have this friend.  She's the one (to my South Bend friends) that I mention once or twice a minute to talk about the creative things she's doing.  She's the one (to my Provo friends) that I battled through the teaching trenches with.  She's the one (to Olivia's friends) that's Libby's mom--and Liv and Libs have been besties from birth.  (Olivia actually visited Libby in the hospital.)  We've each moved two or three times each since our Provo days, but we're still within driving distance, and since I needed a small vacation this last weekend, the girls and I headed on down to visit the Soelbergs in their new Bloomington digs.  John was on call or moonlighting all weekend, and Joe, in his hard-working MBA mode, was in California, and so we had a houseful of little girls and happy moms.
We did so many things they need to be listed in number mode.
1. Sara and I worked on cutting out blocks (from our scraps) for a Paintbox Quilt.  I am not a quilter, but I am a mathematician, and I thought that I could honestly figure out the fabric needs for this little quilt.  I was wrong.  Last time we attempted the math for this, we were honestly coming up with answers like 67 yards.  12 yards!  15 yards?  Obviously, WAY off.  This time, since we were using scraps, we were just cutting what blocks we could, but I made about 10,000 mistakes on 10 blocks.  I can see that this is never going to be my talent.
2.  We had the girls make Homemade Taffy.  There are no pictures because we were, quite literally, up to our elbows in both sticky taffy and greasy butter.  There may actually be a 1:1 ratio of taffy:butter in the finished product because it takes that much to keep the candy moving in the little hands.  But I absolutely recommend this activity for anyone with five- and six-year olds.  (File it away for a rainy spring afternoon.)

3.  We visited "Suesspicious Behavior" a birthday party for Dr. Seuss at the Bloomington Public Library.  We fish for "Red Fish and Blue Fish".

We made fun Cat-in-the-Hats.

Livi and Libs opted to be Thing 1 and Thing 2.  (Perfect for them).

Bella begged at least two extra cupcakes off the cake server lady while I was dealing with Mimi meltdowns.  Awesome. 
4.  The girls played and partied and pulled every toy out of every box and basket and then crashed.

Hard.

5.  Bella smeared toothpaste in Sara's carpet, dumped cat food all over the floor, alternately chased and ran away from Phelpsie (the sweetest cat in the world), emptied Sara's pantry, begged for animal crackers incessantly, cried herself sick after being put to bed (she NEVER cries when being put to bed), and loved the freedom of eating at the big table (too much, really).  And Sara still loved her.  That's why we love Sara.
6.  We partied hard at the Big Hill.  (Reminiscent of our Big Hill from Toledo.)  The girls rolled, and ran, and fought to their hearts' content.

I reveled in the beginning of spring weather and relished not wearing tights to church. 
7.  Mimi and Jenna had their best interaction ever.  They've been frenemies since birth--both strong-willed, both determined to be the big girls and not the little girls, but this time, they hit it off perfectly.  It was wonderful.

8.  We drove home, sad to miss our friends ("I wish we could have our dad and school and Libby and Jenna all in the same town," Mimi sobbed as we drove away.")  We planned some excursions for later this spring, and wished Joe congratulations (Congratulations!) on his new exotic San Diego internship.

Update on the February Updates

I forgot to add John to the updates below, and he was hurt. He recently switched from a Medicine rotation (where one must look tough and menacing, to match the atmosphere) to a Pediatrics rotation (where one should look clean, sweet, and kind, in order to keep tears to a minimum). Since John's face is naturally happy and non-threatening, he grew a full beard (well, as full as possible, bless his hairless heart) for Medicine. In the transition to clean-shaven, he needed, of course, to experiment with different combinations.
Inspired by my brother Rob, John shows the huge difference a tiny spot of facial hair can make.

Pervert. (I wanted to use other, funnier, more descriptive, words--use your imagination--but I am afraid of the Google searches that would land the crazies at my innocent family blog.)

Distinguished Mexican gentleman.
Men, if you are going to grow a mustache, keep the flavor saver.

(He's now back to my favorite. Clean, clean, and smooth.)

February Updates

This month has actually flown by, and I don't usually say that about February. (Doesn't February always feel like the longest month ever? And it's the shortest. But the grayest. So maybe it makes sense.)
Anyway, I thought I'd just quickly do a child-by-child update.
Olivia:
Last week, I was working in the kitchen one afternoon and when I looked up at the clock, I was horrified to see that it was after 3:00 and Olivia still had not gotten off the bus. Just as I had reached the decision to go into panic mode, in she walked, with a very pleased smile on her face.
"I made a snow bug," she informed me.
"Oh good," I said, returning to my counter-wiping.
"Come see it," she said.
"I will later, " I shrugged, in my usual I'm-a-busy-mom tone. I was expecting a snowball-sized bug on the porch. Or a hand-sized bug on the driveway. I was honestly surprised when I actually paid attention to what she was saying (ahem. . . two hours later), and found this in the front yard. (He's actually bigger than he looks.)She explained by saying, "First, I was trying to walk around like a penguin with a snowball egg on my feet, but then I decided I could turn my snowball into a snowman." Indeed. "And then I couldn't make a hat out of snow, so I gave him antlers [antennae]."
Can you see how his eyes are little snowballs?
Naomi:
Last week, we had a few friends over for a meeting. The kids headed upstairs, and as we ladies chatted it up, I heard Naomi's first scream for the morning. As she can really be referred to as "the girl who cried wolf", I ignored her, figuring she couldn't get the closet open or something. When she came down the stairs, looking sheepish, at first I didn't notice this:

But then she confessed that she had gotten stuck under the crib, with her hair caught in the springs (is there anyone who hasn't had this happen? Ouch!), and when her screaming didn't lead to rescue, she asked her friend to go get some scissors. He was delighted to oblige, and when he returned, she cut herself free. I thought, at first, that we were going to be living with "Alfalfette" for a couple months, but it lays down nicely after a good spray with the squirt bottle. I think it's her best haircut yet.

Annabel:
She talks! And gestures! And (not coincidentally) the tantrums have reduced themselves considerably. I remember why I start liking my kids again right around the time they turn 18 months. (Mom, that was a little joke. I always love my kids. :)

Because I might be a celebrity someday. . .

. . . I would like to use today's post to showcase my skills as a celebrity endorser. (I think there's actually a word for that, but I can't remember it right now.) Now, as I have not heretofore demonstrated my knack for endorsement, I am not actually being paid by any of these companies to be their shill, but just you wait. I can almost hear the money rolling in now.

First, I would like to endorse Suave Rosemary & Mint Shampoo. (I tried to find a link and/or photo for you all, but . . . sorry.) This stuff makes me feel like I have a mini Aveda salon in my personal shower--all at Suave prices. The smell is seriously amazing. Considering that my hair is quite short, my shampoo standards consist of 1)cleans my hair and 2) smells good. Requirement #1 is filled competently, and I have no complaints. Requirement #2 surpasses any expectations I had. Try it.

Second, I would like to endorse this recipe for Yogurt Parmesan Chicken (posted on the Anderson Ladies Recipe blog, which I also endorse. I'm telling you, my brothers all married excellent cooks. Everything I've tried from that blog is deeee-licious.) I got this recipe at a church recipe swap from Stacy Andrew, but apparently it originates with Nadine Bailey. It's easy and delicious. It feeds the missionaries beautifully, my kids love it (they'll even eat the sauce, and that's saying something), and it's one of those meals that feels almost fancy. (Maybe it's because I always put the lime sauce on the table in one of my wedding china cream jugs. That's probably it.)

I also am putting in a ringing endorsement for the sunshine we've seen today. I recognize that I'm starved for sunshine in the winter, but I don't think I realize how starved I am until we get a day where the sky is blue and the sun shines down and streams through the windows and I can't tear myself away from the couch in the living room, which gets the perfect bright patch, right in the middle. (Whew! That was a long sentence.) Even sitting in front of the computer, I'm getting warmed across the shoulders. I love it. And I'm drinking it in, because I know it's going to be gone tomorrow.

Also, I'm talking about Girl Scout Thin Mints, but do those really need a celebrity endorsement? I mean, they've already got all those cute little girls going door-to-door.

Oh--and really this should have been first, Neo-Citran. This is some sort of Canadian wonder-drug (thank you, Kelly Galbraith!), and it's fantastic. It's the reason I can smell that Yogurt Chicken and those delicious Thin Mints. It's also responsible for the wonderful two nights of sleep I've had recently. I was beginning to think my silly little head-cold was never going away, but this stuff--this stuff showed it the door. Next trip any of you take over the border, pick me up a year's supply of it, okay? (What I don't endorse: the taste. Yuck. And I also don't endorse using it more than an hour before bedtime, unless you love the idea of your children running amok with no conscious parental supervision.)

What do you endorse?

Nacho Libre

Olivia's school had a Family Movie Day on Saturday.  For $1.00 per person, everyone could come to a neighborhood church, have all-you-can-eat popcorn and all-you-can-drink lemonade, and watch "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs", which we had never seen.  I was hoping John would be home in time to go with us, but planned on venturing alone, since that hope is usually vain.
I was planning on the popcorn and lemonade being enough to pacify the ferocious Annabel.  She is at the capricious age where excursions in public are dicey, but food is always welcome.  And it worked, for the 15 minutes before the movie started and the first 20 minutes (which is actually a miracle).  Then she tipped over Mimi's lemonade and became more interested in dumping out the popcorn onto Olivia's blanket then actually eating the popcorn herself.
So she and I removed ourselves to the hall.  I am no stranger to wandering the halls of a church with a wild child, and we worked quite a rhythm of peek-a-boo and high-fives.  But then she became determined to run only on the hard entryway tile, and after her third fall (and subsequent sobs), I decided we would brave the movie room again.
And it worked.  The popcorn and drinks were again a novelty.  She recognized her jacket, and wanted it back on.  Then she recognized her sister's coat and wanted that on as well.  She wandered around, patting our various neighbors on the head and smiling in their faces, happy as a clam in her two coats.  Then I think she got hot.  So she wanted Olivia's coat off.  Then her own jacket off.  Then, in the spirit of continuing what's working, she wanted her dress off.
I had some concerns about this (obviously).  This particular dress snaps all the way down the front, and she always refers to it as a "dat" (jacket), so I could see her reasoning, but I don't usually let my kids strip in public.
Her yelps, however, were drawing attention, and I decided to cave, figuring that it was dark and she's a baby. So, she removed her dress.  This is a recreation of what she was wearing underneath.

Tights--check!
Bummy--check!
Leg warmers--check!
Favorite shoes--check!
Round little tummy--check!
Grimace--check!  (My brothers call this face "chompers").

Does she not look like a mini Nacho Libre?  I feel like she should be talking about stretchy pants.

For the rest of the movie, I waged epic battle with Nacho.  She desperately wanted Olivia's friend's pillow and Naomi's lemonade, and just as desperately, although unconsciously, a long afternoon nap. 

I lost.  She came out of Family Movie Day looking fresh as a wrestling daisy, after being re-robed.  I came out pale, sweating, and exhausted.