January 7, 2016 § 1 Comment
December was a rough month. Paul worked nights and HH started sleep walking. Easy E decided around 2am every morning that he liked sleeping in our bed more than his own. It was a really fun time for everyone.
Christmas day, his night float rotation finally complete, Paul started 2 weeks of vacation. YES. That night two zombies left their reports with some very generous in-laws and boarded a red-eye flight to Managua to attend the wedding of a dear old friend on the 27th. We couldn’t WAIT to get on the plane to sleep. It was going to be great.
We were in the very last row. I was in the middle. Neither of us slept.
It had been nearly 10 years since I had last been to Nicaragua, when I spent four months living in Managua. We arrived even more zonked out than when we’d boarded the plane. I couldn’t think of anything except passing out on the three hour drive to our final destination, San Juan del Sur.
But as soon as we got off the plane, it hit me. The smell. Pretty sure it’s burning trash mixed with diesel, but to me it smells…exciting. Like old memories. Managua. And I felt a little tingle. Something in the back of my foggy, sleep-deprived mind started to wake up.
The groom had organized our ride from the airport. As soon as we got out of customs, we found a driver holding a sign with our name on it. His name was Delvis. Like Elvis with a D.
As we drove from the airport, past the families of 4 riding one bike down the busy highway, the emaciated feral dogs that somehow don’t get run over, the pulperias, the back neighborhoods down crooked streets with the pink and yellow and orange houses, identical to the one where I stayed so many years ago, I suddenly, inexplicably, felt…stimulated. Alive. If still not completely awake.
We spent the whole ride to San Juan catching up with the bride and groom and, upon arriving, immediately hopped on a catamaran with the wedding party. Which included a Nicaraguan pop star. Suddenly there was rum to drink and potential celebrities to befriend. Sleep became secondary.
We took the boat along the coast to a secluded beach with no road access and beautiful white sands. While drifting on my back in the turquoise water I saw a woman who worked on the boat swimming some sort of container up onto the beach.
“First aid kit?”
“No, cooler. I don’t even think we have a First Aid kit on board. Maybe some band-aids?”
Nicaragua. I love you.
The rest of the weekend continued in the same vein.
We stayed in ridiculous homes overlooking the ocean, partied with some of our best friends, relived memories, and had a wonderful, memorable, sleepless, extravagant, glorious time. And when we boarded the flight home 2 days later, I looked at my phone:
Because our visit was so short, I had kind of intentionally put my phone away. I felt too tired to try to deal with trying to capture every moment, I just wanted to enjoy. But really, 6? And three of them are of Paul cleaning a pool. None with the bride and groom. None with our friends that now live in Costa Rica. None of the ceremony or the blinking, gaudy, quintessentially nica nativity scene with a REAL WATERFALL that graced the alter. None of Paul and I together wearing fancy clothes (which hasn’t happened in at least a year). None of the city. None of the beach.
But I did capture this blurry gem.
So, there’s that. Hopefully we’ll be back for more soon.
July 21, 2015 § 4 Comments
It’s the story of a family that lost an infant and donated his organs, then went to find out what had come of the donations. The podcast doesn’t harp on the pain of losing a child (though clearly that’s part of it), but rather their journey to discover the impact the short life of their son had had on the world.
At the end (SPOILER), the mother reflects on how those few years of her life changed her perception of…well, everything.
Something shifted in me. … (Before) I had felt like I was a boat on an ocean that was rocky and choppy with waves. And then I had this feeling that I’m not the boat, I’m the ocean. Like, the decisions that I make are changing other people, as opposed to just I’m a boat being slapped with waves all the time.
It has made me feel…powerful.
It’s a good one.
February 14, 2015 § Leave a comment
December 30, 2013 § 1 Comment
October 12, 2013 § 3 Comments
Guess who was 2 months old yesterday.
It has been one of those weeks. Baby (and I) have regularly required 3 daily wardrobe changes due to her pooing up her back (I think it may be time to move out of newborn diapers). Paul worked the weekend shift, then had to travel for residency interviews, and then worked the night shift. I dropped my phone in the toilet. This morning after I got up to feed at 4am, Paul was trying to be nice and took the baby and tucked me in with Spike to let me get a little more sleep, and 10 minutes later the dog threw up in the bed. Etc, etc.
BUT! As I sit here pumping away I can’t help but revel in the moment, because…
today my sister is coming to visit and meet the baby for the first time.
And Paul doesn’t have to work at all this weekend. And the weather is ab-so-lutely glorious. And we’re going to a BBQ and then the KY-Alabama football game and then tomorrow the races. Soooooo…the past week, compared to this, is nothing.
Enjoy your weekend!
September 26, 2013 § Leave a comment
Today is my mother’s birthday. Somebody is super excited about it.
In honor of her birthday, below some sage advice that she has bestowed upon me over the course of the last 32 years that I will be passing along to my own daughter:
- Always say thank you.
- Babytalk is not attractive. Ever.
- Always wear nice underwear, in case you get hit by a car and they have to cut your clothes off in public (this has come in handy more often than I ever thought it would.)
- When things seem really terrible, take a shower. You will come out the other end feeling at the very least a little better than you did going in.
- Eat tomatoes.
- A clean house is one of the best gifts you can give someone at the end of the day.
- When you are under a lot of pressure to perform and start to feel it getting to you, remember: all you can do is your best. That’s it. So stop stressing.
Happy birthday, Mom. We love you.