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

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

Travel Torture Chamber

Travelling with two children could be a new form of torture. Easily. Add cramped seats and no pillows or blankets to the mix and it is literally, hell. This is why I would happily kiss the printing press that Cookie is produced on. It is the best, hippest and one of the truly useful magazines for modern mamas out there, if you've never heard of this literary phenom before. Once you get past the Prada dresses for children, they actually do cater to regular people. Well, kinda.

This months' mag is packed with useful articles, like the 'anatomy of a trip' which gives handy tips from national caregiver directories to sending bulk baby items ahead. (babiestravellite.com). I also appreciated the heads up on cool family vacation spots where the kids are treated like royalty and parents actually get to have a vacation, without it being a noisy, chaotic kids fiesta like some Holiday Inns turn out to be. That kind of environment can really suck the joy out of your vacation, like being in one giant daycare, if you know what I mean. Even if breakfast is free.

Filed under 'why didn't I come up with that idea?' www.babiesplay.com is a toy rental online site where toys are vetted for lead poisoning and recalls and sent to your home for a nominal monthly membership fee. Like Netflix meets Toysrus. I like it!

toodles, pp

Ugly in Puerto Rico

Yes, that's me. I'm back with my tales of woe, but I will at least first start with the positive. I'm here, alive and well and my family and is great and blessed. And we were just in the breathtaking El Conquistador resort in San Juan, people! Talk about unparalleled beauty. Wow. Which brings me to my gripe. They say Brazil is the land of the beautiful people and I thought that was true until, well, I went to Puerto Rico. Where do I start? Everybody is beautiful. I know what you're thinking and I don't blame you cause it sounds implausible, right? Wrong. Every last person in San Juan is gorgeous. Everyone. From the teeny tiny chubby 'widdle ninos', to the lithe, incredibly evenly tanned (not nauseating orange Popsicle 'Sunset Tan' esque tans we are assuaged with in some parts stateside) girls, women, grandmas, boys, men.

Usually this would be a good thing, I mean, why not right? Except that it highlighted everything that yours truly was not. Like waxed, plucked, smooth skinned, taut gutted, stretch mark free, cellulite-who?, lush locked... the list is unending. I mean, I knew I wasn't looking my best, but I'm usually able to clean up pretty well, but JUST NOT IN PUERTO RICO. End of Story - I was out-dressed, out-'bikinied'(manner of speaking only, I wouldn't dare with these battle scars), out manicured, out done. And I concede, because truth be told, it is exhausting with two kids to keep up, even though I was surrounded by tons of gorgeous 'model-mamas', who must have all had their babies at twelve or maybe have great plastic surgeons. Yes, it's the hate talking. :-). Add insult to injury, someone actually asked me if I was expecting. I mean come on, people - I was wearing an empire waist dress, a little bloated maybe, but pregnant? Seriously? I had a 4 month old in a stroller! Okay, I can see why she would think that in the picture, but I don't have to feel good about it, y'know? Oh, and that is a Calista Clothiers Dress. Yes, I had to plug it - and Yellow is the new Black, people! Get Yours Here.

But PR was 'mahvellous dahlings' and I am now serious about my daily runs, breakfast of 'face greek yogurt' or oatmeal or egg white omelettes for the rest of my life or until I lose the weight, which ever comes sooner. There's nothing like being 'peer pressured' into fitness by the beautiful ones. Oh, and I will not skimp on the 'pedis' and facials anymore. It is not a luxury as I now know that I sorely NEED that stuff. I have pores ON MY PORES and that is so not hot. In any language. So I am signing off to go get beautiful. Gaze on my picture and feel better about yourself. p.s of course it's the best of the bunch, I'm not stupid, you know!

Ugly in Puerto Rico, pp