Just back with suitcases full of dirty clothes, still a little sand between my toes, and an ever so slight longing for a cool 'miami vice' at poolside, but I just had to blog a little.
Great trip and great vacation...I cannot help but comment on a few observations.....definitely what you would expect from Dee, right? Although it was hard, it was very good I think to leave my cell phone at home. As a realtor, I am never 'disconnected.' To avoid any possible misunderstanding I will define disconnected for my purposes here as no text, no e-mail, no calls, no computer. Some might argue that I am quite frequently disconnected in one manner or another. But that's for another blog. This week I, for the first time in months, had a chance to take a deep breath and relax. It felt good, and I highly recommend it if you possibly can temporarily disconnect yourself. Of course, the Monday after finds me painfully crashing back to the reality of our all access all the time world. And I do mean painfully as I found it incredibly hard to push my feet, now so accustomed to flip flops and flats, back into heels for work. I nearly fell out of bed this morning when my screeching alarm clock began doing its part to get me back on schedule and in my routine. I am definitely longing for 'island time' today.
Now to the trip......
My daughter's rapid maturity and take charge attitude again, as is so often the case recently, surprised me this trip. Our flight out of the US was sold out, and as a result my family of four was seated separately on the plane. At least, it all started out that way. Five minutes after taking our seats, Kate had maneuvered herself from her assigned center to a window seat...she loves the window... then convinced the person now next to her to swap seats with me ten rows back so that Kate and I could sit together. I would happily and comfortably have remained in my assigned seat ten rows back, avoiding any possible rejection that might have come from asking an unwilling traveller to relocate, and read. But not my Kate! I think she would have rearranged the entire plane if necessary to achieve her objective. If only she showed such determination in her math classes!
My first vacation with a teenage daughter definitely had other moments. This year, horror of horrors, she met dare I say.... boys. Imagine my surprise, or should I say chagrin, when she and we travel hundreds of miles and out of the country only to meet a boy from Charlotte who previously lived in our hometown. That was only the beginning. This trip, Kate wanted to "club." Now, before everyone gasps in disbelief, this is a 13 - 17 teen club in the hotel, very tightly controlled from what I could see. As Kate, nearly beside herself with shame and disgrace, stood beside me I grilled the greeter at the Club Crush receiving desk with an onslought of parental questions....what supervision was provided....could the kids leave....was there any alcohol....what id were they checking...other rules....etc, etc. I did feel much better (yeah, right) when I read one of the posted club rules that stated "public displays of affection that might be considered sexual in nature such as prolonged kissing, suggestive dancing, groping (does a thirteen year old even know what groping is) as well as any other potentially offensive PDA would not be allowed." Why is it that I thought a PDA was a phone or even a reference material for a doctor? Nevertheless Kate was, I suppose, clubbing, and I was most assuredly not ready for this.
As for me, I was dealing with a little reality of my own. On Day 2, noting my struggle to climb a high and somewhat awkward (meaning there was absolutely no way whatsoever to maneuver it in a genteel and/or lady like manner) step up from the beach onto a hotel walkway, a young Bahamian male commented my direction, "Beautiful Lady, the step will build your core... is good for you...will work your six pack....I think you have an eight pack." "Why, thank you," I said. But, as I turned, I suddenly horrifyingly realized that unlike being rated an eight or a ten as opposed to a six, being told you had an eight pack versus a six pack probably wasn't a compliment at all. What is it about the island winds blowing through your hair, the shimmering turquoise water and the glistening white sand that lead you to believe you are the most famous of all 'tens' Bo Derek, perfect braids and all, romping down the beach? Couldn't the guy just have stopped with the "beautiful lady" part? Of course he couldn't. Much as was documented in a previous blog after my son told me I was "jiggly," I found myself desperately digging through my beach bag for the cover up I should have been wearing to begin with. When will I learn...
And that brings me to Drew. I noticed that my son may have a few more of his mother's genes than I might have previously thought. To all appearances, Drew is all and I do mean all Daddy. From the way he walks, to the way he talks, to the way he thinks, Drew is all Adrian all the time. Readers who know Adrian will join me as I pause to think OMG! But this trip, as Drew and I stood at a photography kiosk choosing vacation pictures to purchase, I finally saw that elusive flash of Mom. As the operator pulled up a particular photo, Drew said, "Can you please zoom....note I might have said crop, but no matter....that one so I look bigger, and can you make it brighter, and what other choices in borders do you have?" I looked at my pint sized ten year old and thought, "That's my boy!" The clerk looked at me as if to say, "Really....you must be kidding me." As I looked over with pride I mumbled that you can never spend too much time or effort on your vacation pictures. Never mind that the kiosk operator totally disagreed, you go, Drew! A camera just may be on your Christmas list this year. By the way, I have 350 of my own pics from this trip! Surely at least a few more Dee stories will be found there!
No comments:
Post a Comment