Home is where

I am. It was sunny and 90ish degrees every day in Puerto Vallarta, and it hasn't stopped raining since we arrived home a little over a week ago. Now, since I am sure you have been patiently waiting (and holding your breath) and just to torture myself, since I am a closet masochist, I will try to recount to you, the magic that is Mexico.
Day 1:
After a short nap, we left for the airport around 3am. I had been up late to finish packing, brief the aunties (again), shave my legs, paint my toes, double check that my bathing suit was packed, and you know, make up things to stress about in general. We boarded the flight without a problem and had landed in Phoenix in no time.
I had a blind date with an internet friend for coffee at the Phoenix airport during our layover, so we headed out of security for that, and I proceeded to do jumping jacks in the middle of the concourse until Cynthia found me. (How else would a stranger recognise you?!) She was awesome, the bagels were fine and the coffee was terrible. Soon, it was time to head back through security for our flight to Mexico. We waited in a long security line and finally found our gate. There was no one there. There was no airplane there. Alan went to check the monitor, and found that they had moved our flight, it was now 2 concourses over, and they were boarding. We RAN the entire way, arrived breathless, and boarded as soon as we got to the gate. There was sweat but luckily no tears (ok, well maybe just a couple of little ones). When we were finally in the air, I started to relax.
We arrived in Puerto Vallarta around 3pm on Saturday along with about 6 other airplanes (by the looks of the cramped and stuffy passenger holding area) and had to wait over an hour to get through immigration. We got the crankiest, slowest, worker that has ever walked the planet, and she was hesitant to let anyone into her country. Listen, I get it, Mexico is great, but um, we have been flying since way before dawn, and I am ready for about 13 beers, so, GEEZ! It was torturous. Finally we got through everything and wound our way out of the airport, to find Robert (queue angels singing) waiting for us with a cooler full of cold beer and a nice cool ride for us back to Old town. It was like I was home.
We got to our room,(not the penthouse-sigh) dropped our backpacks, and headed down for a sunset dinner on the beach. We got to catch up with our friends with our toes in the sand, eat amazing food, and watch the sun set over the ocean. Hours later as we sat on our balcony watching the waves, we decided to take our beers down to the beach again, (it never gets old) so we could be just a few feet closer to the water. We sat there in the dark and chatted and laughed just like on our honeymoon (oh, I am a LIAR! we never had a honeymoon, I was 12 and Alan had finals the next day or something, but in a perfect world, if we had one, it would have been like this) We were both exhausted, so finally we drug ourselves out of the trance we were in, and decided to head back to our room.
It was then that we (quite literally) stumbled onto another couple sitting on the beach not far behind us. They informed us that a friend of theirs owned the villa just down the beach, and was currently hosting a wedding. (phew! I thought it was funny that an 80's soundtrack was playing in my mind, but was having a hard time explaining the disco lights. PLUS probably a little more air supply if my subconscious was actually in charge) There was going to be fireworks soon right from our beach! They were scheduled for 10:30, but this was Mexico, so it would probably happen tonight. Since we had nothing planned for the evening, we sat back down in the sand. At 11:15(ish) we saw someone scurrying around down the beach, and moments later, our private show started. They were huge and beautiful, and almost close enough to touch. For about 10 minutes we watched the most amazing show of our lives with our new friends. Time after time, the sparks shot up into the air, exploded, and then rained glitter down into the water, leaving behind puffs of smoke and magic. (I would like to amend earlier honeymoon fantasy to also include this)
After the show was over we went back to the room, and slept. Hard.
How can real life possibly compete with this?!

Portland Airport at 3am

at the PHX airport, with our backpacks!

My (real life) friend Cynthia!

vacation check list

*cute new haircut--check
*break in new sandals, as to have calluses instead of blisters--check
*back up camera battery--check
*back up memory card--check (the sales guy told me that the difference between an amateur and a pro is 1000 shots, we will see about that)
*go on a fast to lose 20 pounds, but instead lose 5 pounds and then gain it back in prevacation binge--check
*pluck beard hair--check
*practice pack, then pull everything out, then practice pack again, forget bathing suit every single time--check (leaving actual packing until 2 hours before flight departure time)
*make laminated lists and rules and instructions for babysitters (who happen to be the aunties, who on their worst day are like 10,000 times better at watching the kids than me anyway) appreciate the irony--check


to do still before we leave:
*shave legs (past knees-this is a special occasion)
*paint toe nails in some, as of yet to be determined, amazing color
*make 47 more lists for the aunties (and laminate)
*clearly mark all emergency exits with reflective tape and streamers
*figure out how to get a weeks worth of stuff into a small backpack (including bathing suit)
*put bathing suit in a really obvious place, possibly wear it to bed that night (plan on finding a new one when we get there, when I forget it anyway, or hope we get the upgrade to a penthouse, with our own pool, where Alan can enforce his "no bathing suit" policy)
*don't forget to breathe. Going on vacation is hard work!

I see you there!

YOU! sneaky stalker. I put a counter on my blog to see if anyone on the planet gave a hoot about the random crap I write, and it keeps spinning up like crazy. Well, it's not exactly spinning, but I am actually very surprised at the numbers, there have been about 100 hits per week. Probably only about 87 of those are me checking on things, and trying to decide if I have anything else to say, so that means that 13other times, someone else is coming here. (or maybe my mom clicks it just to make me feel better, she would totally do something like that-once she took me to see strippers even-not related, just funny, especially if you know my mom.) There are only 2 people officially following the blog, (one is a good friend who had to sign up out of pity since I had NO other followers) and the other person has not as of yet revealed themselves-very mysterious. (mom is that you?!)
On a funny side note, did you know that when you add a counter to something, you can have it start at any number you want? It made me giggle that you would put a counter on something and not start at 1. I guess there are reasons, maybe a high counter is super impressive or something, but I just started at 1, a few years into the blog, that's just how I roll. (plus I am not good at math and a fake number would have just made me confused and think that I probably need to hide from the paparazzi or something)
Anyway, I just wanted you to know, that I know, that you are there-all strong and silent, without even a friendly comment, or sarcastic cheer. (or small expensive gifts, just to show you care) I went all big brother on your ass and you didn't even know it. BAM!

book update: I have written a few pages, and have done a little editing whilst enjoying a nice buzz, so I would say, the book is coming along nicely. I think it's really funny, and no one else has read it, so I am sporting a 100% approval rating right now. It makes me think that I might be the target audience,and showing it to anyone might be a horrific mistake. Plus how much of a princess would I be if I wrote myself a book and just kept it all for myself? I hear that everyone and their brother is writing a book now anyway, so maybe it's too mainstream for my likes anyhow. Who needs to be a kabillionaire anyway?! Not me boy!

vacation update: the Aunties come tomorrow and we leave for Mexico in 3 days. I am all bound up with excitement. (what do you think it means?) I think you know how I feel about the Aunties and about Mexico, so I will leave it at that. We are planning on trying to see some petroglyphs and crocodiles while we are there, but you know what they say about the best laid plans (especially when there is tequila involved).
See you on the flip side! Adios!

happy mother's day

Tomorrow is mother's day, it will be the 7th one I will have celebrated as a mama. It got me to thinking, what is it exactly that makes someone a mother. I mean, of course, there is the obvious-giving birth-but I think there are other, equally important qualifiers as well. I decided to put together a list (ala Jeff Foxworthy) so you can see if indeed, you might be a mother.

If you have wiped a booty that wasn't yours, you might be a mother.
If you have cleaned up messes that you had no hand in making, you might be a mother.
If you have licked your finger, in order to use it to wipe something off of someone else's face, you might be a mother.
If you cut your finger, and can only find Snoopy band aids to put on it, you might be a mother.
If you find yourself taking orders from someone much smaller than you, that is covered in peanut butter, you might be a mother.
If you cry at cheesy commercials with chubby babies, or romantic movies about true love, you might be a mother.
If you have ever used the words "because I said so!", you are probably a mother.
If you have stretch marks and saggy boobies, and they make you feel proud, you are probably a mother.
If you have earned your laugh lines, you are probably a mother.
If you always put the wants and needs of others before your own, you are probably a mother.
If you have cared about something or someone so much, that it made your heart hurt, you are definitely a mother.
If you have stayed up all night worrying about someone, and can only breathe easy when you know they are ok, you are definitely a mother.
If you have ever been so terrified that your insides actually melted, you are definitely a mother.
If you have comforted others, and provided a safe harbour for them to rest, you are definitely a mother.
If you have seen the best in someone, and encouraged them to do the same, even when it is hard for them to see, you are definitely a mother.
If you have ever looked into the eyes of a child, and felt hope for the future, you are definitely a mother.
If you have looked into the eyes of a monster, and then proceeded to kick it's ass, you are definitely a mother.

Having kids is hard, I think it might just about almost kill you. But then, when you come out at the other end and look back, it is something priceless. There is no amount of money you can put on those mud pies, skinned knees, snuggly mornings, whipped cream feasts (oh yeah we do that!), nothing else in this world that has a value that even comes close. As hard, and dirty, and scary and prickly as it is, there isn't anything I would change. Today the sun was out, the girls played and giggled and picked me daisies all day long. It was a good day.

Happy mother's day Mom, Grandma, Auntie Retta, Aunt Deb, Nikki-I love you ladies so much! Happy mother's day to all of the mamas, I hope your day is amazing, you have earned it! (now go sleep in and then when you decide to get up, demand a Starbucks!)

time flies!

On Tuesday Maggie climbed to the top of the 25 foot high rock wall at the Y. Yesterday evening Layla mastered riding her 2 wheeler (with no training wheels) and no help from Dad at all. It was a big day. Today I took Maggie to get her first manicure and pedicure as a special treat, and when we got home, she informed me that her tongue could move one of her teeth. She has her first loose tooth. Layla is quickly becoming a fluent reader, understands the concept of division, can do her own injections, and can make pancakes all by herself. Maggie gets herself dressed, brushes her own teeth and can make her own peanut butter sandwich. All of the sudden, my babies are gone, and they have been replaced with big girls. I guess I knew this day would come, but I always figured there would be some sort of grace period. Not blue toe nails, and a 2 wheeler, and a loose tooth all in one day. Good thing it's Friday. I need to sneak in lots of snuggles before they start packing for college.