Vamanos a Mexico

Have kids, will travel. That's my new motto. Okay, maybe I shouldn't get cocky, but the family vacation in Mexico went alarmingly well. We survived the airplanes - and so did the other passengers. We slept. No one puked the entire week. I did gag a couple of times due to Gee's sudden and intense need to put his tongue on things. What he was trying to determine, I am not exactly sure. Taste? Texture? All I know is that when I saw him touch tongue to wall at the airport before we even left Spokane, I felt for a moment like I might pass out. He managed to choose the most horrifying wall imaginable for his first little taste test. It was made of fake rocks and had numerous gum wads crammed into its disgusting crevices. I seriously had trouble breathing around the anguished shriek that I had to choke back for fear that he would think that tongue touching was a fun way to get mom's attention.

Gee sampled his way through the entire trip to Mexico. I alternated between entertaining Ess, nursing Cue and trying unsuccessfully to wipe down every surface within tongue's reach with alcohol. Thankfully, he spent most of the day sitting next to Daddy. I stopped turning around to check on him when I caught a full airplane seat lick, from base right up to head rest. I considered rinsing his mouth with alcohol after that one, but HSSH's cooler, less germ-phobic head prevailed on that suggestion.

It was a great week. Sand, sun, warmth. Five to three adult to kid ratio. (Grandma, Grandpa and Aunt D met us there.) They (the kids) dug and swam and ate and ran and fell asleep exhausted every evening. We (the adults) watched them dig and swim and then we ate and more importantly drank margaritas and fell asleep exhausted every evening. Gee and Ess found the ocean interesting, but the real highlight of the vacation was the pigeons. Oh, the joy of pigeon chasing. It can not be properly described in words. Puerto Vallarta had flocks of fat, slow pigeons that couldn't be bothered to move until chubby little toddler legs got really, really close to them and then lumbered into the air for a short three to four foot flight that left them right in prime target range again. Pigeon chasing took over most outings as no pigeon within a three mile radius of us went unchased.

One little town square in particular was the epicenter of pigeon-chasing for both local and visiting toddlers. In approximately 400 square feet of cement and benches, I think there may have been 400 pigeons. There was also at least 700 tons of pigeon poop. Personally, I think pigeons are foul. They rank only just above rats on the animal cleanliness scale. It took considerable effort for me to sit quietly in the square and watch my children chase flying rats and occasionally fall flat on their faces in pigeon excrement. Fortunately, this square was adjacent to PV's only Starbucks. I had to just get a chai tea latte and chill because it is not possible to describe to you how much they enjoyed chasing flying rats and landing in their droppings. Gee also refrained from trying to put his tongue on either the pigeons or the pigeon poop covered surfaces. Even in my zen, chai tea, relaxed state I would have had to draw the line at licking pigeon crap.

Another small miracle occurred in Mexico. Cue slept through the night. We are not sure what triggered this monumental change in his sleeping habits, but it could have been due in no small part to the quantity of margaritas his mother consumed. I felt so incredibly revitalized after six straight nights with six hours or more of sleep that I absolutely refused to back track once we returned home. I have made a commitment to drinking at least three margaritas a night. It's a big sacrifice for peaceful nights, but so far I have been able to meet the challenge.

I'm kidding. I swear.

Back here above the arctic circle, the snow still falls. We have our memories of gentler climates to keep us warm, I suppose.