Vacation = bueno

Vacation with three kids just might be a contradiction in terms. But I still LOVE it. And recommend it. Sand for my toes, food for my soul.

 

And my principessa seems to acquire a new skill each vacay.  Last year, at Disney World, she started standing, albeit with a death grip on Número Uno's pants leg, but standing, nonetheless.

Principessa shorts leg jack circa June 2011 - Disney

This year, she all but blossomed before our eyes. Her hesitant two word phrases grew each day. From "beach, please?" and "swimswim"? to "I love beach!", "Hooray for beach- beach saved the day!" I kid you not.

My point is, we all need a vacation , sometime, no?

Yours in blissful rest, pp :)

Wuss, much?

I have been busy with work and life in general. But I am back and fiercer than ever, so fear not. :-)

Now to the business at hand. Numero Uno son, just turned three - pride and joy of my heart and possible, WUSS? Sigh. He is immensely popular in school, loved by every teacher and pupil it seems, but he just appears to be extremely socially anxious - at three! Isn't three the age when you're supposed to be equal parts rambunctious and carefree and totally oblivious to people and what they think? I mean I noticed he seemed a little sensitive for a rough and tumble little boy, talking about 'hurt feelings' and 'feeling sad', but I just chalked it down to his being expressive. Then there was that time at a birthday party at 'My Gym', when they were all supposed to say their name and run around the circle by way of introduction and I literally held my breath for at least one minute, so anxious was my son, this wonderful little sweet boy. He was literally in tears, nervous - nay petrified- he so wanted to do this intro thingy - I mean, which young boy doesn't just love running around and being the center of attention? I watched him battle within himself, biting his nails as his turn reached closer and closer, and when he turned around and his eyes met mine, I almost cried with him. I had a smile plastered firmly on my lips, but inside I was yelling 'Go on Numero Uno Son! Mama's right here with you!' And I half stood up, ready to grab his hand and do the lap with him, should his resolve fail. Yes, this Mama goes all out for hers. But he did it! And I have never been so proud, because I knew what he was feeling, and I felt it right along with him. So my husband and I discussed it that night - was Numero Uno a wuss or was it because he wasn't familiar with the surroundings, the parents there, the kids?

Fast forward to our vacay at Dreams (which I highly recommend by the way) in Punta Cana over Thanksgiving. They had the most awesome kids program EVER. With a sunken pirate ship, tons of activities, excursions etc. So great - I would have gladly been a kid for a day just to participate. Numero Uno Son lasted 5 minutes. Literally. I watched him hidden from his view, after I dropped him off, contentedly building a sandcastle, when all of a sudden he flung down his shovel and little pail and threw himself wailing into Ms. Malinda's arms. No clue as to what set him off. But he would not set foot in the club again for the duration of our vacation. He did agree after much pleading to take a picture in front of the club - that was his concession. So yes, he is a wuss. The daughter I never had maybe? :-)

Earth Mother, pp

Paris.

view of Eiffel from hotel room

Yes, we are back from the fabulous city. Food in Paris was a bust. I just had to get that off my chest. The one meal I enjoyed cost an ungodly amount of money that I just don't feel comfortable 'fessing up to spending. Ye gods! I have honestly never, ever, had food that bad. And it's not like I don't like French food. Au Contraire, I actually adore it. Well, when it's seasoned and cooked right. So I deducted mucho points from Paris, as everyone that knows me has to know that I take my 'manger', tres serious. I had never been so happy to see a McDonalds in my entire life (we came across one near the hotel) I was this close to kissing the floor. For real.

But food aside, Paris was great. And everything was just a little bit nicer than I thought it would be. Parisians are less rude and snobbish than in the yesteryear, not everyone (in fact very few) were decked out in head to toe haute couture(lol) and everyone wears jeans now. It was a laid back, nice fab vacation. Well, not really laid back for us, obviously, with two little boys - one of whom had decided he was potty trained days before the trip and so would NOT under any circumstances pee in his 'pull ups' on the plane or anywhere else for that matter (even though I begged him to at one point) to this mothers' consternation and extreme annoyance. I mean, picture me- exhausted, bleary eyed at some ungodly hour, running down the narrow plane aisle to get Numero Uno to the stinky, cramped plane loo, while he's crying hysterically that "Poo-poo's coming, Mama!". Of course we get there, and nada. Just a few miserable drops of pee. All this after almost dislocating my arm to prevent him from falling down the cavernous, stinky toilet bowl. Now rewind and picture this twenty or so more times during the same flight. Exactement. I am grateful the boy is (finally) potty trained, don't get me wrong, but dear Lord, where is a nanny when you need one? I know, I'm a bad Momma. :-)

The boys (en Paris), having a laugh at our expense

But this picture of Numero Uno staring out his hotel room window, soaking up the culture, made all his hassling almost seem worth it. Almost.

Mom of the Year, pp

Mr. Egghead/ Ma Pauvre Bebe

My poor monkeyboy. Fell forward in his bumbo seat when he was trying to get a toy and bumped his head on our extremely hard stone kitchen tile. Ouchhhhh! Thankfully, the seat was on the floor, so he didn't have far to fall - but still ouchie! The poor thing was such a trooper and was playing happily again within minutes. His bump was iced and he seemed okay. Fast forward to two days later- the bump just grew 4 times larger and was soft and puffy to the touch. Before you could say 'ER', we were there - with bells on. I was, to put it mildly, in a tizzy. What if he had like a concussion or something? Or internal bleeding? Because obviously, some kind of fluid was collecting under his skin and the fact that he was acting like his normal self scared me even more. Surely that meant he had something 'not good' going on internally, poor baby. But long story short, he had a CT scan and he was fine- not a fracture (thank God) but a contusion which is a bad bruise under the skin. The Doctor casually told me that it would go in two or three weeks. Weeks? Oh no! To be honest, his 'new face' freaked me out a bit. It was oddly misshapen and warped on one side, like he was staring into one of those funny mirrors at the circus. I wanted my MB back! And we traipsed through airports to Paris and back, Mr. Egghead in tow, people looking at him, curious but most too polite to ask, and suddenly it was gone. Poof! Just like that. Now we weren't sure if it was really truly gone or if we had just gotten used to it. But it really has. In three weeks, just like the doctor said. I have my adorable Monkeyboy back! But here's a picture (in the third week, so you can imagine how HUGE it was initially) just so I always remember how grateful I should be for his beautiful monkeyface and more important, health. Viola...

Travails of Travel

There is simply no need attempting to travel these days. None. At. All. The FAA (and cohorts) have squeezed every drop of fun from the whole process with the 3-1-1 rule, the non-priority seating of people with kids, the shoe removal thingy. Everything. It is so bad that even if, by some small miracle, you manage to make it across the ocean to your destination with all your luggage, tots and faculties intact, you are dead tired and cannot leave your hotel room until the day before you are supposed to go home, and then you end up doing the 'drive-by' tour thingy and then head for the airport - ( grumpy, unrested, and thoroughly dissatisfied with your feeble attempt at leisure) - to repeat the same 6-8 hour torture that you went through to get to your 'vacation.' Ha!

My beef today is that the travel agents have joined them. I would think that with the decline in air travel and business for the travel agents, they would be more enthused, more excited over the possibility of their commission. Or maybe just do their job, no? No is right. Here was my experience of recent with our Paris trip bookings. I mean, never mind that we had booked and paid (in full, mind you) for this trip months in advance. A week to the day, I get this EMAIL(because evidently, a phone call would be too much work, you know?)

Hello PP,
C is on vacation this week, and I got a call from the company who is handling your hotel stay in Paris, and they advised me that the R Hotel cannot accommodate your party for the nights that you are booked there.
They did offer an alternative for no extra cost at the V in two rooms there.
Both hotels are on the right bank. The R is in district 1 and the V is in district 2.
They do have another option near the R, called the L, but that would be a difference of 1442 total for 2 rooms.
Please let me know as soon as possible what you wish to do.
If you have any questions, you can either contact myself or my manager, D. Have a great day!

Basically, they had booked my hotel through a third party and were casually informing me that I would have to either stay in a cheaper hotel or pay more for another hotel which could accommodate my party. My 'party' being myself, hubby and 2 kids (7 month and under 3 years old.) Tell me people, should a travel agent not advise (before charging my account) on whether a suite is needed for a certain number of people? To me, this is right up there with letting you know you may need a visa or something. What I loved (read:sarcasm) was the way my regular agent was conveniently not in the office that day, and 2) how they tried to cavalierly make it sound like the problem was mine (and the third party agency's to resolve.) Keep in mind that I had hitherto had no prior contact with said third party agency.

I responded as politely as I could, letting them know they should work it out or refund my money. I got this reply:

I am checking with Travel Bound to see if they will cover the cost of your airline penalties if you indeed cancel. I will know that information shortly.
According to Travel Bound, they cannot accommodate a cot and a crib in their rooms at the R. I understand your frustration with Travel Bound because they should have advised you this at your point of booking in June.
There are other hotel options, but the best one at The L, that is closer to where the V is in district one, is about 1442 more. I was told by Travel Bound they cannot cover the cost difference if you choose this property.

I had an 'are you kidding me?' party all by myself when I got this reply. So another more strongly worded email was sent. This chick must not know I'm an attorney - in fact, bump attorney, try not addled. Cause this was getting to be ridiculous. Here comes the clunker.

Here is an option you may want to consider.
Travel Bound, the tour company who booked your room, told me by law the hotel cannot allow anyone bringing a baby into a room without a cot.
I asked Travel Bound if we took the baby off the reservation, could we have the room, and they said yes.
We could tell Travel Bound and the hotel you are not bringing the baby, and when you check in make sure the baby is not in sight of the front desk.
This is not something we normally recommend, but this is an extreme circumstance, and if you do not mind not having a cot, the best option.
If this makes you uncomfortable, we can look at other hotels that will provide four in a room.
Let me know what you think. Have a good evening!

No she didn't. Yes, she did! In writing! Did this person just ask me to collude with her agency to lie to the hotel and HIDE MY 7 MONTH OLD at check-in? Yes She Did! Where, pray tell, would I hide him? (assuming I was amenable, to her suggested option?) Under my jacket? In my carry on? I think I should have sued them at that point and been well within my rights! I was all set to cancel the trip and sit my butt at home, at least until some modicum of sanity returned to the travel industry, when I got this:

I have great news!
Travel Bound was able to keep you at the R.
They have two connecting rooms for you. It is guaranteed.
You do not have to use the second room, but they have to have it booked for you for no additional fee to you.
They will have the cot in the 2nd room, so you can bring that cot into your room.
At least you will have two bathrooms!!
Let me know if all is well. I think this is the best option. I do have other hotels in the right bank, but this way you can stay where you are.
Have a great day!

Great news, indeed. For her- even though I suspect she has no clue how close she and her agency came to getting the Prada Principal 'smack down.' Now all I have to do is to contend with the other stuff (see first paragraph) - you know, the travails of travel...

exhausted already...pp

Wanna Be Parisienne

I am planning a trip to Paris this summer, so naturally, I want to know what to wear and how to dress. I have heard way too many stories of the snobbery and quasi-judgmental outlook of the French (at least of the 'ugly American' or 'Americaine', as it were, not to know there is a basic dress code. Now I don't mind looking like a tourist, just as long as I look like an extremely stylish one.

No white sneakers of ANY sort. If you must wear sneakers, then dark colored Pumas or Converses. Absolutely NO shorts. Dark colored skinny jeans, dark pants even better. A lot of black is ALWAYS good. Oh, and scarves are a must. Hermes if you dare. Flats for the cobble stoned streets. No flip flops. Boots - though I really don't get that - not in the muggy summer weather. Flowing skirts and subdued print dresses work too. Good bag, nice shoes, stunning accessories. Looking effortlessly chic is exhausting, trust me.

So why do I care? Because I love fashion and it is my duty to pay homage to Paris - the debatably most fashionable city in the world- by at least, caring. And if you think I'm alone, try googling "what to wear in Paris' and discover the amount of cyber space devoted to that irrelevant question. Mais oui, we will be chic or die, n'est pas? :-)

Paris bound PP