Topic 2--The Incident

This is how I know that I'm a writer at heart: I want to write about our vacation moreso than I want to talk about it. :)

So, in keeping with Topic 2, I shall now detail for you what has come to be known as "the incident" that occurred on Friday of our vacation.

First of all, I should tell you that we stayed at Sandals Dunn's River Villagio near Ocho Rios, Jamaica. It is an Italian Renaissance themed Sandals and is one of the newer resorts in Jamaica. Everything about it was sparkling clean and beautiful. I have no complaints whatsoever about the resort that we stayed in. The rooms were beautiful, the pools were glorious, the staff was delightful. We didn't have any problems at our resort.

We did, however, have a problem at the neighboring Sandals resort. The Sandals Ocho Rios resort is older, but bigger, than the Dunn's River Villagio resort. They have something like 13 restaurants there in comparison to 5 at Dunn's River. This intrigued us and we had met a woman the night before who was staying there and told us how beautiful is was. The two resorts are only about 15 minutes apart by bus and they run buses in between several times a day so that you can go back and forth and try out the other resort. Clever marketing, I suppose, and very little skin off their back to run some busses every day.

So, on Friday we decided to go check out the Ocho Rios resort. We got there around 11:30 and pretty quickly ascertained that it was an older resort and maybe not quite as well kept as ours. We made our way down to the beach and decided to go ahead and try the hobie cat sailing thing with a guide. Shad had been wanting to do this all week and it was our last chance. So, on went our lifevests and out we went onto what proved to be a very choppy sea. The guide was chanting "It's a tsunami" half of the time and told us how easily we could be blown over "like paper". In between trying not to swallow the entire Caribbean, attempting to keep my sunglasses from blowing away and trying to keep the salt water out of my eyes (burning), it was a great time. We went out WAY further than I had anticipated that we would go, but we didn't die, so I guess it was worth it. ;)

Coming down off of that high, we tried a pool and found it to be seriously lacking for atmosphere, towels or drinks (seriously, they didn't have any of the ingredients for the 2 drinks we ordered off the pool bar menu...whatever!) We meandered around for a while just to find a bathroom (note to self and others: a bigger resort isn't always a better resort) and ended up by the beach where we ate a decent lunch at a seaside grille place.

Directly after lunch we decided to hang out and read our books for a while in the hamocs. The only situation being that Shad had neglected to bring a book with him. We headed to the gift shop to find a book. There we were on the main path of the resort just strolling along with nary a care in the world (the BLISS of it, I tell you!) and there it was:

A rat.

An honest to goodness, scampering, scurrying RAT. Not a large mouse. A freaking rat.

Now, maybe some of you have heard about my phobia. I only have one phobia. My phobia is rodents. Specifically mice and rats. I hear that squirrels are actually rodents, and I say "hush yo mouth" cause they ain't the kind o' rodents that be scarin' me. They're cute with fluffy tails. FLUFFY tails! Not slithery, pink tails. Not a creepy pointy nosed rodent.

It is these pointy nosed, slithery tailed rodents of which I can barely write without pulling my feet up off of the floor and struggling for breath.

Honestly, we had a mouse situation when Maia was a month old and I MOVED OUT OF OUR HOUSE and in with my in-laws for a WEEK. It was a terrifying occurrence for me that required Hollie's mother to intervene and help me out of the house with the baby. And that was a tiny mouse (ok there were actually 2.... OMG... I can hardly stand to think about it still).

*deep breaths*

So, to set the mood again, we were wandering on the resort path, the ocean breeze caressing our skin, flip flops in tandem and BOOM my vacation bubble was pierced with the sight of this rat. It ran into the bushes and who knows where after that because I sure as hell wasn't sticking around to find out. My hand over my mouth in shock, I turned back on the path but stalled in a daze feeling the hyperventilation begin. I was aware only of the fact that I was still outside with the rat and that I could NOT stay outside if there was a rat there. Shad proposed going towards the hamocs, but how on earth could I get up in a hamoc and relax knowing that a rat could scamper underneath me at any moment. No, that was not going happen. I looked from side to side in a panic trying to figure out which direction to go and how to be safe from this hideous creature. My ponytail flipped across my shoulder, startling me, and I screamed out as if the rat had attacked me. Shad mentioned then that perhaps in order to not have to be taken to the nurse's station, we should reign in the crazy and find shelter somewhere. Truly, you could have put a cave of bats in the path or 10 rattlesnakes and I couldn't have been more terrified.

Somehow I made it back towards the game room/lounge/lobby area and I sat there with my feet on the coffee table for quite a while. Shad left me to chill and went to check out the books in the gift shop. I tried to read my book and wouldn't you know that 2 pages into the next chapter, there was a description of the main character's mother killing a rat? WTF I closed my book and waited for Shad. There was a National Geographic show on the big screen, something about warthogs. (Where was this Ocho Rios place and how did I get deposited there from the Sandals bus??)

Finally, Shad came back. He offered to piggyback me over the area of "the incident" (as I insisted that it be referred to from this point forward), as this was the only path out of the resort. I buried my head in his shoulder, and he barely made it without dropping me. (Honestly, he's been benching 200 lbs, how is it that carrying me piggyback was so difficult? I'm still perplexed about this, but whatever.) We made it to the main entrance to wait for the bus and, wouldn't you know, I found the absolute cutest cropped Jamaica sweatpants in there. I hadn't planned on buying anything for myself on the trip, the trip itself being expensive enough, but after the incident I felt that some cropped sweatpants were definitely in order. I'm sure you will all agree that shopping is possibly the only cure for a phobia like this. ;)

And there you have it, "the incident" that nearly unravelled the entire afternoon. If this had occurred at our own resort, you would have found me in the manager's office. I realize that rats live everywhere and that at a resort there is probably a lot of food thrown away, etc. etc. But there is no excuse in my book for an actual live rat to be visible in the middle of the freaking day at a place that people pay thousands of dollars to visit. That can only indicate a serious breach of sanitary measures. Keep the rats ouside the gates of the resort, please.

Topic 3 will have to be addressed tomorrow.... stay tuned. :)

Topic One

The results of the voting are in and...



I'll have to write about everything because there was no decisive victor. And only THREE people voted. Come on!! No wonder GW is still in the White House if our voter turnout is so poor. (OK, OK... I'm not really blaming any of you for GW being in the White House...though, if you did vote for him --Shame On You and please redeem yourself by voting for Obama next year).

Onwards...

We got back from Jamaica this past Sunday morning around 12:30am. We had a fabulous trip and it was a great resort and a very relaxing get away. Overall the kids did very well for their grandparents and we didn't spend too much time worrying about them. (After crying all the way to Effingham the day that we left, I pulled myself together and managed to have a good time without obsessing over their well being.

I will say (in addressing Topic 1) that the Montego Bay, Jamaica airport leaves much to be desired. Landing there on Tuesday wasn't great and we spent over an hour in line in immigration where there was no AC. But that was mild compared to the mess we found ourselves in on the way out of Jamaica.

Now, before I continue, let me remind you that the Jamaican people are a very relaxed, laid back and friendly folk. Truly, that was one of the best parts of our trip... the people there are so downright jovial. The bus driver on the way from the airport to the resort on our way in explained to us that "there are no problems in Jamaica, only situations". We liked this idea. "Ya mon, no problem!" is a popular response from Jamaicans.

So, when we got in line (again in the no AC portion of the airport) in Montego Bay on our way OUT of the country, we were surprised to hear the little Jamaican girl behind the counter say "Uh, you haf a problem wit your flights" in her cute little Jamaican accent. Ok... so a "problem" had surfaced whilst in the Land of No Problems Only Situations. There have to be dozens of flights from Montego Bay to the US every day, right? Maybe she would have to change some things around with our flights. We didn't really know what was going on because she would only speak in Jamaican to the worker girl next to her and said very, very little to us. It appeared to be something with overbooking and a flight time changed in Chicago. The FAN behind us was so loud that we could barely hear her even when she did address us in plain English. She typed away on her computer, we assumed trying to fix our flights or figure out new ones or something. Then she left the counter. For 30 minutes.

All of the people in line behind us had come and gone through the other 4 ticket agents at the US Airways Charlotte, NC connecting flights counter. There were now people there whom we had not come in on the resort bus with. They all looked at us like we had probably done something wrong or, worse, were caught trying to get away with something. Like maybe we had stashed some tasty Jamaican pot in our suitcase or something. I searched their eyes for the sympathy I so desperately needed and there just really was none there. They all just wanted to get home and didn't care whatsoever that we were sweaty and scared and confused.

A family next to us was then similarly detained. They had 2 sons, about 15 and 10 years old. The younger one sat down on the floor and cried. I cannot tell you how badly I wanted to do the same thing. I think Shad might have disowned me if I had done that. We were so sweaty, hungry, thirsty, tired, still lugging a heavy carry-on backpack and shoulder bag, and I had to pee SO badly (like the kind of pee where you just had tea with your breakfast... I think you know what I mean, ladies!)

The girl came back finally and acted like everything was going to be alright. I was buoyant and slung my bag over my shoulder in preparation for getting to actually leave and head towards the next line (security). She typed and typed and frowned and argued in Jamaican with the girl next to her. "F9" "NO F5 den F9". She went back to the back room.

I wanted to scream "Send me on a freaking boat around Cuba and dock me in the Keys. Just get me back to the United States." Shad was similarly exhausted and sweaty from the experience but didn't share my urgency. He really held it together quite nicely, I thought. One of us had to, I guess. But then, he didn't have the fact of needing to be back at work at 8am Monday morning hanging over him. If we couldn't get a flight on Saturday, when would we get home? Would I have time to spend with the kids before being thrown back into the library Monday morning? Our original itenerary had us flying from Montego Bay to Charlotte then on to Chicago and then to St. Louis. Then we were going to have to drive back to Mattoon. It wasn't a great itenerary to begin with. How bad would it be when they "fixed" it? Dallas? Seattle by way of San Diego?

We were in line for almost 2 hours total before they somehow came to the brilliant conclusion that we might need to be booked on another airline. Presto. American Airlines would take us from Montego Bay to Miami and then straight to St. Louis. Whaddya know. I had a huge migraine for the rest of the day, but our flights would be guaranteed and we would get to St. Louis almost 2 hours earlier than planned. The lesson learned here? Don't fly US Airways and don't connect through Charlotte (their east coast hub to the Caribbean.) The family next to us finally got their "situation" figured out, and much more quickly than ours was, but they were not happy campers with US Airways, either. And I should also mention that we had to RUN to our connecting flight in Charlotte on the way down to Jamaica. They book their flights WAY too close together. Another reason that I would not recommend them.

Stay tuned for my venture into Topic 2. (If I just weren't so incredibly wordy....)

Your Choice

So much to write about... and so little time!

I'm pondering a few different topics:
1) The Story of our Montego Bay Airport Fiasco
2) The Story of a particular "incident" that occurred during our vacation (which did NOT involve excessive imbibing, being interrupted by housekeeping or jellyfish stings)
3) The Value of Time Spent with Grandparents and Why It is Good for Everyone even though They Spoil Uncontrollably
4) The Enigma of Foul Smelling People and Why They Don't Know Soap

Email and let me know which topic you'd like me to write about tomorrow. ;)

Critical Breakdown Phase 3 (or 4)

I left Maia's room at 8:40 last night, desperate to just read my book for 10 minutes and go to sleep. It had been a very, very long day complete with a library summer reading event in the morning which brought about 50 extra people into my workspace for 2 hours. At least there I didn't have to deal directly with the crying and whining. I got to come home and deal with lots of it. Shad had supper almost ready when I got home (bless him), but the kids were both just sweaty, exhausted, rag-a-muffin kids who really didn't care about peas or potatoes or boneless ribs for supper. (The biscuits and jelly did hold their attention long enough to eat one each, however.) After that, the crying resumed and random acts of hitting, hair pulling and tattling accompanied the taunts of "Big Butt Poopyhead" (Nate's newest catch phrase and one of the main reasons he is leaving his babysitter at the end of this week--because we are tired of him learning lovely phrases like this.)

But, no sooner had I gone back to the computer to tell Shad goodnight than I heard it: splashing and hollering and general whooping and carrying-on. That's right...splashing. Our behind-the-house neighbors got a pool. A four foot blow up pool with a ladder and a pump that doesn't appear to be going anywhere for the rest of the summer. It makes our frog-shaped kiddie pool look like Pong in a sea of Wii. The neighbors have new festive butterflies on their fence and a special clothesline for their beach towels, too. Great. I'm glad they're ready for summer fun in the sun. Now, if they would please just keep their summer fun to a time when there is freaking SUN, that would be better. 8:40pm is bedtime for small children at our house, and no sooner had I heard the splashing out back than I began to plan my descent on the backyard.

Shad was horrified. I know he was thinking that I would pull out my Bitch Voice and tell them to shut up or else. I planned something much more neighborly yet motherly like "Hey guys, we've got a two year old trying sleep behind this window here and we can hear you all the way inside our house. Can you hold it down, please?" And because there is NEVER EVER EVER a parent in the backyard with these kids, I was fully prepared to tell them what to do. Just as I was mulling it over, Shad went to check on Nate who was supposed to be asleep in the Big Boy Bed.

Now, we are well into week two of the Big Boy Bed and Nate has been such a little trooper. He has done splendidly. Until last night. When Shad went to check on him last night, he was sitting up in his bed looking around as if to say "What is that splashing noise outside?" He wanted to read another book, so he and Shad read another book. Then he wanted Mommy. Somehow, Shad talked him out of that and got him to lay down. (This was a small miracle.) He finally went to sleep, but not until the neighbors went inside, which was blessedly only about 5 minutes later. (It was, after all, a chilly evening and who goes swimming in a non-heated pool on a chilly evening at 8:30?) And it could have been much worse. Goodness knows that we have been through much worse bedtime issues with Maia in the past even without noisy neighbors. But it still felt like the final straw to me. Neighbors should have to get a permit before putting a pool in the backyard...but I digress.

I'm not sure if it is because the library has been so busy or because I'm in charge of the entire summer reading program all by my freaking self, but I was exhausted last night to the point of Critical Breakdown. When I finally laid down around 9:00, I just wanted to read my book and go to sleep. And yet my brain continued to mull over the neighbors, their pool, and whether or not we will begin to deal with this on a nightly basis, etc. I decided that this pool business had pushed me to at least Critical Breakdown Phase 3.

As I see it, the Critical Breakdown Phases go something like this:

CB Phase 1: The first level of breakdown which is characterized by exhaustion and apathy. A person experiencing Critical Breakdown Phase 1 may find it necessary to lay on the couch a lot. Television viewing may become excessive during the initial onset of phase 1. At this phase, some good old fashioned laughter and snacks like popcorn and candy can pull one out of the CB phase without too much damage being done. Ice Cream is often helpful at this phase. Persons without small children can actually achieve a spot of CB Phase 1 after such a time as semester finals, reviews at work, financial difficulties, looking for a job, etc. However, persons with children are much more likely to reach this phase on at least a weekly basis.



CB Phase 2: The second level of Breakdown. This phase often occurs after several weeks of repeated negligence at the Phase 1 level. Those who experience Phase 1 but choose to ignore it and do not take the proper precautions to remedy it, can easily land at Phase 2. This phase is characterized by letting your children wear mismatched clothes frequently, insisting that salsa is a vegetable, and refusing to pick up the hula-hoop in the hallway because "if nobody else is going to put their stuff away, then I'm not doing it anymore, either". CB Phase 2 requires a weekend away from the children to be properly remedied. If this is not possible, then a state of constant CB Phase 2 may set in and begin to form crow's feet. Brownies may be consumed at a greater than normal velocity during this phase. Wine coolers will be on the weekly shopping list.



CB Phase 3: Unfortunately, CB Phase 2 can lead to a more serious affliction if there is not a means by which to spend some real, quality time away from one's offspring. CB Phase 3 is found to afflict parents of strong willed, stubborn children quite frequently. It can reach a serious stage after 2 or more months of no Away-From-Children-Time (AFCT). AFCT is defined as one or more nights spent alone without the children. If one's workplace is particularly busy or difficult on top of having no AFCT time, CB Phase 3 is imminent. Signs of this CB Phase include, but are not limited to:

• Laundry left for 2 or more days in the washer to the point that there is a distinct beginning-mildew smell and they must be rewashed.
• Dead plants, inside or outside the house.
• One, and perhaps two, species of insects living within the house or garage.
• Glassy-eyed, glossed over look.
• Ponytail as main means of hair-style.
• 3 or more months of any one broken item in the household that you just can't manage to take out and get fixed even though it is an integral item for daily life, ie. eyeglasses (Shad).
• More dog hair under your bed than on your dog.
• Lying in the fetal position for longer than 3 minutes, even after your children find you and say "Daddy, I think Mommy is sick."

Now, AFCT may not directly fix all of the above problems or any others like them, but it will indeed allow for some relaxation and needed "re-grouping" (code word for sex) which, in theory, will help you deal with the above issues. If AFCT is not possible, this phase can lead to usage of hard liquor and/or other means of stress relief that may not be as safe or practical as AFCT. If needed, this phenomenon may be explained to grandparents so that they will offer child watching services.

Which brings me to why I am now at Critical Breakdown Phase 3 (or 4). We have not had a night away from the children since New Year's. This is rapidly approaching the 6 month mark of no AFCT. In fact, not only have we not had any AFCT in 2007, neither of us has taken any kind of "away with the girls" or "away with the guys" time, either. It's no wonder we feel ready for the freakin' looney bin. And, if you'll recall, CB Phase 3 is imminent for people with strong-willed or stubborn children and especially dangerous after 2 or more months of no AFCT.

I rest my case.

And if Shad's passport doesn't get here tomorrow (been waiting 13 weeks for it now...), I think I'm going to cancel our trip to Jamaica and take myself to Madrid for all of August. That, surely, is the defining characteristic of Critical Breakdown Phase 4: Leaves family for Solo European Vacation.

Don't call DCFS... I'm sure we'll be fine. Really.