ER Vacation Curse Be Gone
It was inevitable. Someone in the family would probably have to go to the ER. I mean, it is a BBM vacation after all. A couple years ago it was me after having a stomach battle with some not-so-good scallops. (Hint: the scallops won.) Then it was Lil Cwho cracked her face on a hotel room nightstand and needed to be glued shut at 1 a.m. in the ER while singing the "Kung Fu Fighting" song. A year or two ago, Mr. BBM was attacked by a rabid spider and required antibiotics (Ok, I lie. It wasn't rabid.) Last night, Big I got her turn.
After complaining all day about a nasty bug bite on her finger, I was horrified to see that her hand looked like a giant Mickey Mouse glove, and it was growing. She was complaining that she was in pain and the swelling continued to increase throughout the day. It was off to the ER for the BBM family again. Thankfully, a nice big dose of some steroid and benadryl knocked it down by this morning. It doesn't look like we'll need to fill the prescription for the antibiotic.
Oh, and if you suspect your daughter has been bitten by a spider, do NOT, under any circumstances, google "spider bite and swelling." I kept thinking I was going to get a tearful call from Mr. BBM that would include the words amputation or death. Thankfully, this was not the case and it appears that the ER curse has made its way through my entire family now. So, ER vacation curse be GONE already!
We have had near perfect weather this week, with each day being in the 90's. The ocean has been pristine. You can stand in the water up to your chin and see your toes on the bottom. Big I has learned how to boogie board. Lil C learned she can not at all trust her pop-pop to take her out safely on the raft. I won't go into the details, but I will say that Lil C would be more than happy to tell you about how many particles of sand and pebbles she had to blow out of her nose post Pop-Pop wave and raft time. She went back in with Mom-Mom about five minutes later though. Tough kid.
I've read three books while here and am starting my fourth. We went to a wonderful arts festival where Mr. BBM bought me a beautiful copper fountain for my patio about the size of Big I. I've been wanting one for about seven years now. I can't wait to plug it in and hear the water. Hopefully taking a little piece of the beach and flowing water home with us will help me stay in that vacation mind-set. It has been a week of fun and a week of relaxation.
Yesterday, my grandmother would have turned 93. It was a day where we talked about good memories of her. We teared up, of course, but it's getting a little easier. This very much needed vacation, has helped with that. It's helped all of us.
In just a few days, we'll head back home. Here's hoping that this wonderful vacation is just the jump start our summer needed.
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What Do Crabs Eat?
Yesterday was an awesome day. We spent the morning at the NC Aquarium and spent the afternoon on the beach building castles with Lil C. For dinner, we stayed in and made lobster tails, steamed shrimp, grilled chicken, potato salad and corn on the cob. I washed it down with a Corona Light and lime. The day ended even better than it had started. After over 20 years of coming to the Outer Banks, I finally did the research and followed through so we could make a fire pit on the beach. We had a blast. There is nothing like sitting under the stars, with the surf at your toes, as you roast marshmallows with your family.
In NC, there are tons of little crabs that come out at night. If they creep you out, it's better to go to the beach without a light source. When you see how many of them are, it can be a bit unnerving. Last night, while sitting around the fire pit, a rather large one moved nearby. Mr. BBM started his scientific questioning as per usual and began asking me and my Dad if we knew what crabs ate. They seem to dig little things out of the sand and eat them.
It was then that Mr. BBM rolled up a little piece of marshmallow and threw it in the direction of the crab. It hesitated for just a minute and then quickly moved towards the little balled up cloud of yumminess. Soon, you could hear the little crab claws clicking as he went to town on the marshmallow. When he was finished with the first little balled up marshmallow, he found a second one that Mr. BBM had thrown out.
It turns out Mr. BBM answered his own question last night. Apparently, crabs eat marshmallows.
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Renewing the Soul One Writing Idea at a Time
Before I left for vacation, my Nikko Blue hydrangeas, the ones that are supposed to be the most awesome blue color in the world, were pink. It sort of summed up several months for me: expecting and hoping for one thing and getting something else entirely. I dumped a bunch of "make it blue" natural powder stuff on them, and not unlike the fairies in Sleeping Beauty, waved my little shovel around and willed those flowers to turn blue.
The day I left, they were still pink.
I have a feeling now, that at some point, they will turn blue. . . a garden analogy for my attitude and how the beach lifts me up.
There is something about sinking ones toes into the sand and and floating rhythmically on the waves that soothes my soul. I spend my days with tangled salt water hair and sand in every crevice imaginable and love every minute of it. The beach is capable of healing me, plain and simple. Ask any one of my family members who have been around me for the last couple of days.
At home, I get worked up over country club emails and let things bother me. Here? I noticed a cranky email, replied to it smartly and without stress, and I let it go.
Part of the attitude change is due to my Lil C, who is a beach girl through and through. Yesterday, while floating over the waves with her and Big I on an ocean whose surface was like glass, she said, "I am not getting out, not ever. I just love this" and then burst into a fit of infectious giggles. Of course, last night on the way home from dinner, she said "Floating on that raft was like a baby ride. It was too easy" and then she launched into a fresh round of hiccup-inducing giggles.
On the way down here, we spent a night in Chincoteague, VA. I had never been there before but I will definitely go back. A quaint little town where you can walk to "Bill's" or "Dan's" restaurants from the hotel, it jump started the vacation mode very easily. While walking to dinner, we walked past a little bed & breakfast that had a sign on the fence. Apparently, a writer (whose name escapes me now), had stayed there and written a book back in the 40's.
"That's what I should do," I told Mr. BBM. "I should stay at a little beach town somewhere and write a book."
When I was fresh out of college and working at the Creative Nonfictionliterary journal as an assistant editor, I interviewed a writer we had published named Donald Morrill. He had written a memoir piece and when I asked him what advice he could offer to just-emerging-from-college writers, he said that his advice was to not try to write any memoir until you're at least in your late 30's or 40's. "Until then," he said, "you think you have plenty to say but you really don't. Young writers who try to write memoir lack perspective." I've read two memoirs while at the beach: Eat, Pray, Love and Mennonite in a Little Black Dressand I am hungry to read more writers like these two. They were inspiring. If publishable stories can be crafted about family recipes and funny family happenings, I have a wealth of material to write about. My family is quite "write-able." And although I'd like to stick to my story that I'm still only 29, the fact is, this "29-year old" is a bit of a liar. (You know, in case you haven't figured that out quite yet.)
So, I spent much of the drive discussing with Mr. BBM, subjects of potential books and possible chapter titles. And I think I'm going to try to write more than just this blog. I think I'm going to make some type of writing commitment, even if it means getting up earlier than usual or staying up later than usual so that I can have some peace and quiet to write.
I mean, all of you who read this blog would buy my book right? I could probably sell as least 10 copies or something, and that would be pretty cool.
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Orlando is the New Gilligan’s Island
On December 11th, my family and I left for a trip to Disney World. We spent a night at the Philly airport Embassy Suites with my parents and laughed about how we were so happy we had our own rooms at the Caribbean Beach resort in Orlando. Six people sharing one bathroom is do-able for one day. On the 12th, we went to the airport and sat for over an hour waiting for them to finish repairing some kind of generator on the airplane. When you're a nervous air passenger anyway, repairs that are happening in front of your eyes, don't comfort you. Not a bit.
Lil C survived her first flight as if she was going for a car ride. We kept the girls entertained while in the air and landed filled with excitement. What waited for us was a very long line.
It would end up being the theme for the week.
It took us several bus loads full of people until it was our turn. Once on the Magical Express, we were just plain excited. We had the whole day to spend at the park and our luggage would arrive in our room when we returned from the park.
Lil C enjoyed meeting Ariel and Big I enjoyed having her memory restored of the magical place that is the Magic Kingdom. Mr. BBM and I quickly remembered that weekends in the park are no picnic and tried to avoid becoming too frustrated with line-cutters and rude people in the parks. Also, since it was the first day, we bit our tongues when we realized that Disney was routing us through not one, but two gift shops just to exit the Snow White ride. Gift shops with Disney princess and clubhouse fans are no fun for a parent trying to keep the budget in check.
Monday was a better day. We started off at the resort pool where the girls were having a blast. The adults were having a nice time too, right up until Big I told Mr. BBM she was going on the water slide and then didn't come out at the bottom. A full on search began and when we didn't find her in the bathroom, I started to really panic. A good 15 minutes went by without being able to find her and I started running towards the manager with the walkie-talkie, right as Mr. BBM turned up with her. She had been in the "companion bathroom." It had been an emergency. Needless to say, our fun at the pool was over. It took a good hour for the adrenalin and all the bad images to leave my head. My Dad couldn't get the book "The Shack" out of his head during our frantic search; I couldn't get the research paper and speech about Human Trafficking out of mine.
In the afternoon, the girls met characters and made their way through the World Showcase in EPCOT. But Lil C kept yelling out that her mouth hurt. As much as I wanted to believe she was simply in need of a drink, deep down I knew something was up.
Tuesday morning she woke up with a fever over 100 and my heart sank. My hopes for an event free vacation were dashed once again. With our car parked in Philadelphia, I began searching for other options to get her seen by a doctor. Within an hour, a shuttle picked us up and took us to Urgent Care where Lil C was diagnosed with an ear infection. Fortunately, the place was attached to a pharmacy and I was giddy loading up on water bottles that were only $.89 after paying $2.75 the day before.
Lil C started feeling better almost instantly and we spent every day in a park, including our departure date on Saturday, the 19th.
After watching the weather reports for back home that included the words "worst snowfall ever" and "blizzard like conditions," we knew we were in trouble. Flying into Philly in 50 mph winds and horizonal snowfall wasn't going to happen. Being an experienced traveler, Mr. BBM got on the phone with USAir on Friday night. Actually, I should say that he "got on hold" with USAir, because he spent about three hours on hold, just waiting to talk to an agent.
When a terse and snot-tastic agent finally answered the phone, Mr. BBM and I were both sleeping. However, I soon realized that "Hello, USAir. . . Hello USAir" wasn't part of my dreams and yelled for Mr. BBM to pick up the phone. In a daze, he asked about our flight and we were told it was listed as affected. We were able to switch our flight to Sunday afternoon for no charge. We did it, and Mr. BBM used hotel points to book a night at the Embassy Suites. So much for only sharing a room once on vacation.
On Saturday morning, my Mom woke up sick as a dog, but there was nothing for us to do about it. We had park tickets, but no place for her to rest. We had to check out. She spent the day as a trooper, making her way through hoards of people that made me claustrophobic and annoyed. We were definitely "disney'ed out," and when I say that I mean that we were "peopled out." People can really suck. In fact, at one point, if I hadn't spent six days treking through miles and miles of park and hadn't been suffering from both knee, back and hip pain, I think I would have physically removed the huge family who cut us in the bus line and made us miss the bus back to our resort. And when I say "removed," I mean from this Earth.
On Saturday night we made our way to the airport and then caught the shuttle to Embassy Suites. Our room was really nice and we had a few drinks and decided to make the best of it. At least we didn't have to deal with another public restroom in the Disney Parks. Good God, when you have two little girls, I swear it's all you do.
The next morning, we got all packed up (again) and went to the airport. It listed our flight as "on time" and we were thrilled. We boarded the plane at 1:30 p.m. for the 1:55 flight. At around 2, the pilot came on the radio and said we would be delayed about 45 minutes because of conditions in Philly. Because our first flight had been cancelled, I was sitting with Lil C, a row ahead of Mr. BBM and Big I. My parents were 20 rows ahead of us. After another 30 minute delay, we backed away from the gate and went out to await our take-off. After 45 minutes on the runway, we were told we were going back to the gate. It continued like this all afternoon. Once back at the gate, they gave us drinks and we sat and waited and waited and waited. At 4 p.m. the pilot said he would let us off the plane to get food since there was no food on board. He told us to be back no later than 4:45 because we were probably going to get the go-ahead at 5 p.m. Everyone got off the plane, minus me and the kids and some other families. Mr. BBM went to get us food.
We ate, and were ready to go at 4:45. The eternal optimist, I still believed it was going to happen. At 5 p.m. there was still nothing. We were delayed again. Finally, at 6 p.m., the pilot told us he had some bad news. Philly was gridlock. They had only taken in 16 flights the last hour and the runway lights were covered with drifting snow. Our flight was cancelled. I may or may not have screamed "NOOOOOOO!!!!" I know I at least did in my head. I knew this already though, because the man sitting behind me got a call from his son, who had looked it up on the internet. We were listed as cancelled before our pilot even knew. I asked the flight attendants if they could just drive the plane up the highways and get us home but unfortunately, the answer was no.
We got off the plane and made our way to the ticketing agents once again. The line was insanely long. Every flight to Philadelphia had been cancelled. The problem was that some of the flights were cancelled before the people got on the planes so we were at the back of the line. My Mom and I took the girls (a sleeping Lil C who had fallen asleep on the parked plane, woken up and assumed we were home) to retrieve our bags. When Mr. BBM approached, I knew it was bad news. We weren't flying home until Tuesday afternoon. All Monday flights were booked.
Back to Embassy Suites we went for two more nights. On Monday, I spent about $25 doing laundry in the hotel and my dad and Mr. BBM went out on a 3.5 hour trek to get my Mom a called in antibiotic.
Finally, yesterday, we were able to make it onto a non-delayed or cancelled flight and return back home. Don't get me wrong; I had a great time while in Disney, but the drama that always happens on my vacations has got to stop. This is the third vacation in a row where Urgent Care has been required for Lil C. I just thank God for Embassy Suites' Manager's reception each night (free drinks and snacks). It's seriously the only bright spot during those last few days in Orlando, and what each one of the adults in our party lived for during those last few days.
The next time I go to Orlando in the winter, I am driving. And to Mr. BBM, "I told ya so."
Blog Her 2010, I’m SO There!
I did it. I bought my ticket for the Blog Her conference in NYC next summer and I am already excited. For years, I've been watching the pictures roll in, reading the posts about it, and wishing so badly I could be there. Next year it finally happens. This girl is afraid of flying so I had to wait until it came to the East Coast. New York City, here I come!
I'm a little nervous that after four years of conferences, people already have their "groups" to hang with and that I'll be hanging out solo, so I'd like to ask a couple questions. Who else is planning on going? Can I convince some awesome readers/bloggers to go? Anyone want to split the cost of a limo to drive us there? Think I should volunteer to teach a "Self Defense Class for Bloggers"? Should I wear my gi so I'm recognizable?
(I'm totally kidding about that last question.)
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