Our last vacation as a family outside of Northern Ontario was Florida almost two years ago and Jamaica six months before that (it was a good year). Tomorrow we embark on another family journey to Cozumel, Mexico and I am finally moving from casual whatever to OMG excited.
Steph and Hud in Jamaica.
Barring any last minute strike by yet another group of airline workers, we should be checking in 24 hours from now with bags in tow and smiles as wide as Shirley from What’s Happening’s butt (high fives Raj!).
Preparing for a vacation is always a bit daunting. Beyond the work delivery, there is all sorts of checklisty type things to think of when packing for a week away in a foreign country. Thankfully I do not have to think of all these things, because Steph, a daughter of a commercial pilot, grew up with travel in her household and a checklisty type mother to assist.
Admittedly I am a t-shirt, sunglasses, banana hammock shorts and toothbrush kind of guy, so my list is not that long. Throw in a trashy thriller novel and I am good to go.
The boys are so stoked. Hudson especially as he gets the idea of vacation more than his brother. Tasman, so laid back, just rolls with it. Figures waking up in a new bed in another country is just part of the life package dude, and by the way, have you seen my roach clip? Hudson, by contrast, lies in bed thinking of minutiae of the trip. The bed size, the shower curtain, the type of cereal at the buffet, the free slushees, the possibility of seeing a barracuda, what colour skirts the dancers will wear at the after dinner performances and will they play Pitbull non stop.
The beauty of all this is witnessing it through their round eyes. These vacations stick out in a person’s memory for a long time. I know the ones that stick out from my childhood, some for weird reasons – like shotgunning my first can of beer in Peurto Plata when I was 12 or my dad making me shave my caterpillar mustache off in Florida when I was 14. Other more traditional memories include the magical ocean swimming, or the thick, wet heat that smacks your face when the plane door opens. And of course, I also remember the time spent with my then traditional family.
So off we go, wish us buena suerte. Please don’t rob me when I am gone. I look forward to finding little nuggets of humour and of parenting stories and questions to share with you all.
Adios!