Neighbor Drama

I think we are the most hated people on the block. Seriously. Even more than the red rental house whose occupants have included a creepy guy who strolled around chatting with neighbors and you couldn't get rid of him to save your life, a ghetto-looking family who sat on their front porch to have loud cell phone conversations and let their yappy anklebiter dogs roam the neighborhood and crap in everyone else's yard, or the current residents: young, sketchy-looking guys that play music too loud and speed loud motorcycles up and down the street and that my daughter swears she saw making a drug deal one night.

I'm not overly outgoing. One of my best friends was truly friends with all her neighbors and had them over frequently. I'm not really that type. Hospitality has never been my strong suit. However, we chat with several of our neighbors when we see them, wave at them often, my son plays across the street with the neighbors' grandkids, and I've taken Christmas goodies to several of the neighbors. I even do something gluten-free for the elderly couple next door because i know he has celiac's disease. She's always very nice and friendly to all of us. Her husband has never spoken to us, however, and won't even look our way so we can wave. My son likes to give her May baskets and they've given him little gifts and yummies. The neighbors on the other side are close to our age and are a blended family, as well. He did us a favor, helping with a fence, and in exchange, I said I'd do a free family portrait session for them. That was at least two years ago--I reminded them a couple of times and then let it go. She called me once to ask if I would be willing to babysit their new baby when she went back to work, but she ended up finding someone else before I'd had time to think about it.

A couple of summers back, our basement flooded 5 or 6 times between a clogged sump pump, a broken sump pump, 24 hours without power after a storm, and then just leaking through cracks in the foundation. We lost a lot of belongings. My pictures were stored down there and many were ruined. I lost a couple of bags of clothes and about 75% of my scrapbook paper and lots of keepsakes. I had old books, some nearly 100 years old, that had to be thrown out. The kids lost some toys and dress up clothes. We were hauling things upstairs and laying out blankets and stuffed animals to dry in the back yard. We brought up furniture and bags of ruined items to go to the trash. The clean up was slow since we kept having reoccurrences and life moves on whether you have a disaster or not.  We got a notice from the city that we were in violation of city code, that we couldn't store things outside. One of the neighbor's had complained. We suspected it was the elderly couple because they were the only ones that had a good view of the debris. Thanks for kicking us while we are down. Incidentally, a few months ago, their basement flooded (sewer line issues) and their yard had to be bulldozed and the dirt was dumped in our side yard. The foreman came to the door to make sure it was ok. Rather than being spiteful, I said I understood completely seeing how our basement had flooded multiple times the year before.

My daughters ride the bus with the other neighbors' sons and they were telling us how the boys tell them how their dad criticizes how often we mow our lawn all the time. This from the guy who mows at 8-9pm at night outside my kids' windows when they're going to bed or plays music in the garage by their windows late or whose dogs stand 3 feet from our bedroom window and bark incessantly.

Last week, my husband got a new lawn tractor and mowed for the first time this season. Just learning the new mower, he accidentally sprayed some grass into the elderly neighbors' yard. He apologized to the lady but she started complaining about our dandelions and how it's our fault they have a few dandelions in their yard and that we have the worst yard on the block. My husband has seeded multiple times but the grass is horrible. I used to spray the dandelions but they got too out of hand for spot treating. Between not having the money for unimportant things like grass and not having the time between karate, drama, orchestra, volleyball, scholar bowl, church, babysitting, etc. and having major family issues like court custody battles and my son being hospitalized twice, the lawn is the last thing on my list of priorities. If it bothers the neighbors so much, they can pay for weed and seed and do it themselves. I don't have the time nor do I care about something as insignificant as the grass. Walk a mile in my shoes, then complain. My husband spoke to a lawn company about spraying and reseeding now that he sold the family farm. Maybe then they will be happy.  But, probably not.

Today we were supposed to have our driveway widened. The concrete guys came out and started digging and setting up forms. But "a neighbor" called the city and they came out and demanded a building permit so the guys had to stop and go down to city hall. It took so much time, they couldn't pour the concrete today. But at least the permit is posted now. And whoever complained gets to deal with the mess another day, including a pile of rocks in the street, which I'm surprised they haven't called the police about yet.

Cruise Log Part 6: Look What the Tide Brought in!

Wednesday the 10th we arrived in St. Thomas.  We also went to Charlotte Amalie in St. Thomas on our last cruise.  I love the view from the balcony of the island and all these little sailboats moored and dotting the bay.  It's so picturesque.  Our excursion for the day was to go to Magen's Bay Beach.  Supposedly it is one of the top 10 beaches in the world.  It was very pretty and very fun.  We had an open air bus to take us there.  We were first taken to a scenic overlook where we could see the beach from above and it was beautiful!  There was a lady there with a donkey, that seems to be a famous fixture there because I saw a lot of postcards with that donkey on it, wearing a hat and flowers.  There were also locals selling bottled water because it's more expensive on the beach.

When we got down to Magen's Bay, Scott went to change (I had worn my swimsuit and just put a sarong and a t-shirt on over it) and I went in search of beach chairs to rent.  We set up our chairs and went out into the water.  I had my waterproof camera strapped to my wrist.  It was a beautiful day with blue skies and fluffy white clouds.  The waves were awesome.  It was like being in a wave pool.  If you stayed pretty close to shore, you were really tossed around.  There were teen boys laying on the sand and waiting for the surf to come up and then it would suck them back into the water.  I made the mistake of hanging around in that depth, looking for seashells and got tossed around so much, I had sand all in my swimsuit.  I went out in the water a little farther out to mask what I was doing and pulled my swimsuit away from my body, hoping to wash all of the sand out of it (it didn't work, apparently.  When we got back to our cabin and I peeled off my swimsuit, I was caked with sand).  I was enjoying floating on the water and feeling the waves push and pull me.  I could spend a whole week at that beach.  Or live there!  So peaceful and relaxing.  I finally figured out that there was a little "shelf" near the shore.  It was really fun to let the surf carry you towards the beach, but if you had your legs drawn up, you could brace your feet against that shelf and not be swept along the sand (which is quite abrasive).  Then when the wave went back out, you'd be sucked out again.  I did this back and forth over and over for a while.  I may be easily entertained, but all I wanted for this trip was to relax and de-stress and this was the best of any of it, just floating along with the waves.

When the tour bus was ready to take us back to the dock, we decided to do some shopping.  We have been through some of the shops in St. Thomas before, so we knew the street where most of the major shops were and also the markets near the pier.  Shopping is a big deal in St. Thomas because it's duty free.  They hand out all kinds of coupons and free offers, especially for jewelry.  Next time I go, instead of wasting all kinds of money on the spa, I'll save it for jewelry shopping.  I really love the Tanzanite and the Ammolite and colored opals.  The sales people are a little pushy.  They stand on the sidewalk in front of their shops and try to convince you to go in, even offering you free stuff and nearly pushing you in the door.  One guy seemed very helpful, telling us the layout: this way is food, this way for clothing, that way for jewelry, etc.  But, then he urged us to come in his shop.  One place that I like to go into is Mr. Tablecloth.  They have tons of linens.  Last time, I bought a jacket there.  This time, I got large and small white lacy parasols.  I think they would be adorable in my photography!  Can you imagine a mother/daughter picture?  In the back of the store, there is a small drugstore and we have visited there both times to pick up necessities and a few souvenirs.

After we got back on the ship and showered, we went to La Cucina for dinner, which is the Italian restaurant on-board.

Cruise Log Part 5: Land Ho!

Tuesday, the 9th, we arrived in St. Maarten (or St. Martin, depending on what your nationality is).  We had booked a catamaran sail, but when we checked the tickets that were delivered to our room, we saw that there was a weight restriction.  When we booked our excursion, we specifically looked at restrictions and there was no mention of a weight restriction.  We looked at several sailing excursions and some did give restrictions, but this one didn't which was why we'd booked it.  It also included going to a cove for swimming.  We went down to the excursion desk the night before and they said they'd look into it, but when we went down that morning, they said that it was a liability thing and they couldn't override it and neither could the catamaran captain.  So, they refunded us the price of the tickets.  That left us with one excursion for the day which was a tour of both the French and Dutch sides of the island.

We got on an air conditioned tour bus, but apparently I chose the wrong side of the bus.  Since it was driving around an island, it depended on which direction the driver went--if he went counter-clockwise, it was best to be on the left of the bus and if he went clockwise, it was best on the right.  I chose the right side and chose wrong--he went counter-clockwise.  So, most of the attractions were on the left side of the bus, and we were trying to see them between people's heads and through the windows.  Taking pictures was virtually out of the question.  It was a really neat island though.  So small, yet holding two different countries.  And there's no border crossing, just a sign marking the border.  The island's economy is completely tourist based--they don't produce anything there.

The old French fort

The bus stopped near a shopping district and some open air booths and we went through the open market, buying souvenirs.  I got a beautiful blue quilted bag, with a few bursts of other bright colors that said "St. Maarten/Martin" on it.  It included an attached accessories bag, a scrunchie, and a sarong/scarf that all matched.  In these markets, bargaining is part of the process.  Other islands are different, but St. Maarten was definitely one where you could negotiate prices.  We bought magnets at all of our stops, since we started being religious about that during our summer trip, though we had been buying magnets along the way all along.  I was looking for items for the kids and the grandmas.  I found little bottles of sand and I contemplated buying that because I kicked myself after the last cruise.  I wish I had started collecting bottles of sand from each beach we visited.  Even if I bought my own vials and painted the name on it or glued seashells to it, but I have never done it and now I have missed out on Dominican Republic, St. Thomas, Tortola, Bahamas, Miami, and Atlantic City.  I saw a cute hand-painted ukulele that I wanted to get for Billy, but I found that most shops carried the exact same things and I walked on.  I ended up finding a shop that had awesome Dr. Suess-inspired t-shirts, such as "Brat 1" and "Brat 2" or "Monster 1".  I was going to get those for the kids, but decided instead to get "Sis 1", "Sis 2", and "Bro 3" with St. Maarten screen printed on the bottom.  I was getting tired and didn't haggle as well as I had been.  And we didn't make it back to the open air market to find the ukulele I had wanted.  I figured they might have them at some of the other islands, but I never saw another one.  I am kicking myself for not getting it when I saw it!

We found a place called "That Yoda guy movie museum" so Scott had to stop there.  I'm not a Star Wars fan or aficionada, but it seems that the creator of Yoda has a museum there with Star Wars stuff, including some Yoda figures.

We stopped at a little cafe to sit and drink a Coke and use their free wifi for a bit to communicate for a bit with our family.  Then we got back on the bus and went back to the port and onto the ship.  We spent a little time at the pool and I went down one of the 4 slides.  But, then nature called and I went back to our room.

We took a nap and when I got up, I put on the most brightly colored clothes that I had brought and went down for the second "Thriller" class.  We had dinner in one of the general dining rooms, called "Taste".  As near as I can tell, those two dining rooms right across from each other have the same food, just different atmosphere.  I think the third dining room might be the same, but it's larger and has a stage for live performances.

After dinner, we went upstairs to the upper deck where the 80's party was going to take place.  Probably the most fun I have had in a long time.  I love the music because it's my generation.  They had fireworks over the ship.  When it came time for the flash mob to do "Thriller," the problem was that the "stage"/dancing area was not raised up--it's just part of the floor, only made out of different material so you can see where it is.  We were told that if we got lost, the cruise directors would be in front of us and to just watch them.  However, when we rushed to the "stage", there were still other people there and we couldn't see the cruise directors at all.  And since the other people didn't take the class or apparently learn the dance somewhere along the way, they weren't quite doing the choreographed moves that we had rehearsed.  And there was a photographer that was trying to get pictures, and she focused on me but every time she would set for the shot, I would need to turn.  So, finally after several attempts, she asked me if I could just pause for a second, so I froze in the classic claws in the air stance and let her take her picture and then I had to hurry up and figure out where we were and catch up.  It could have been better managed geographically, but it was fun, nonetheless.  My husband took a video of the whole thing and I still haven't watched it.  Then the 80s party continued with songs that were near and dear to my formative years and I sang along and chair danced and everything!  It was a blast.  It was also funny watching drunk guys trying to hit on women, especially when they were married.

Cruise Log Part 4: Are We There Yet?

Monday the 8th, another sea day, Scott was sick.  Seemed like allergies, but it was enough that he rescheduled his massage and stayed in bed.  I had my facial scheduled, so I went down to the spa.  I was getting a microdermabrasion/oxygen thing, hoping to get rid of my dark spots.  However, I didn't see a noticeable change.  The commercial part of the procedure was trying to get me to buy $800 worth of facial care products.  Sheesh!

I went down the the Garden Cafe to eat a bit of breakfast.  Then I went back to the spa for my last appointment, a hot stone massage.  I was hoping I would get someone different than the girl I'd had the first night, since she really hurt me, but that's who they gave me.  However, the hot stones were much more soothing and relaxing.  I always pictured the standard photo of hot stone massage: a woman with several stones lined up on her spine.  However, I found that they keep several round smooth stones in hot water.  She oils you up really well and then rubs the stones on your body until they start to lose their heat, then she puts them back and gets more out.  This chick was kind of bugging me because both times, she was getting extremely close to crossing the line of areas that I did NOT want to be massaged.  Massages at my chiropractor are thorough, but they cover you and ensure your dignity at every turn.  Maybe it's an international thing.  I had a Slovakian friend that didn't understand personal space.  I like that all of the ship's employees wear nametags that include their country of origin.  It's nice to see where they all come from and how amazing to see all these nationalities together.  Several in the spa were from Mauritania.

After the massage, I went to the Garden Cafe and filled up a plate and went back to our room.  I had books and crocheting to keep me entertained while Scott slept.

In the evening, I had seen in our daily newsletter that there was a class to teach the Thriller dance.  They were going to have an 80s party the next night, with fireworks, so they wanted to have a flash mob dance to Thriller.  That sounded like fun, so I went down and learned the moves.  I am not the most graceful and I do not have rhythm, but I still like to dance.  There were even older ladies in this class, so I didn't feel too silly.

They had a rule that you were not allowed to bring personal hair driers or fans on the ship.  However, I didn't get this memo before and there was no way I was going to go without my hair drier, so I smuggled it on board and kept it hidden.  They had a built in hair drier, but I use one with a brush attachment, so I have to have mine.  I was using it and apparently put too much load on the breaker and blew it.  They got the electricity back, but we lost the TV until the next day.  They never came out and asked me what caused it, but they mentioned that it sometimes happens with hair driers.  So, for the rest of the trip, I kept my hair drying short so I wouldn't blow the breaker again.  We had one plug in in the entire room, so we had to alternate charging phones, my camera battery, our laptops, and using my hair dryer.

We got room service for dinner and watched a movie in our room (I think we had to watch it on the laptop, since I wrecked the TV).

Cruise Log Part 3: Sailing, Sailing Over the Ocean Blue!

Sunday the 7th was a whole day at sea.  I woke up and hadn't slept well at all.  On our last cruise, I had slept like a rock.  We opened the balcony door and listened to the sound of the water and got the breeze off the ocean and the rocking of the ship, instead of making me sick, lulled me to sleep.  However, this ship is equipped with electrical shut offs.  First, you had to have your key card in a slot to have any electricity at all.  As soon as you take it out, the lights and power all go out.  Second, if your balcony door is open, the air conditioning shut off.  It was a little too warm to go without any air conditioning so we didn't get to sleep with the balcony door open.

I went down to the spa to get my mani-pedi and then my conditioning treatment.  The manicurist talked me into an upgrade on one of the services, which apparently threw off the pricing.  Again, it was a commercial, with them trying to sell me expensive oils and such.  "It's affordable because since you only use a couple of drops, the bottle lasts a long time.  You can use it on your whole body and your hair too!"  At least the deep conditioning wasn't a commercial.  She didn't try to sell me anything.  Though, I don't see that it made a bit of difference on my hair.  I figured out that they were double charging me.  They had charged our room account when we initially made the appointments, then I found that the individual employees were charging me again at the end of every service.  So, I had the front desk at the spa trying to figure all that out and subtract charges.

We had lunch at O'Sheehan's, which is sort of like a sports pub that has burgers and stuff.  We went to Teppanyaki for dinner.  Teppanyaki was our favorite on the last cruise.  It was still good, but not as good as we remembered.  One of the chefs came out and was getting started when another chef came over and said he had the wrong table, so they switched around.  We had "THAT" guy at our table.  The eternally single guy that talks way too much that you fear will either try to sell you insurance or get you involved in a pyramid scheme or try to talk to you about his cult.  We had another couple at our table that we ran into often on the ship and were friendly with.

After dinner, we had our pictures taken by the photographers stationed around the ship.  Then we went back to our room and watched a video.

Cruise Log Part 2: Come Sail Away!

The next day was Saturday the 6th and time for the cruise!  We checked out of the hotel and set up some reservations for our return and then took the rental car back.  From the rental car area, we took the tram back into the airport and caught a taxi to the port of Miami.  I was trying to get there early because I wanted to book spa time ASAP because I was afraid the days at sea would fill up quick.  They tell you not to arrive more than an hour prior to boarding time, but by the time we got there, we were in loading group 10.  I was getting antsy, but it turned out that I didn't have to worry.

When they called our group number, we found that the rooms weren't ready yet, so we didn't really have a place to go.  So, I went to the spa and we got a tour and started booking services.  They had a deal for getting increasing percentages off with each subsequent service, so Scott talked me into a second massage and he booked one too.

Then we went to the Garden Cafe, which is a buffet-style restaurant, to eat and wait.  It was really packed because there wasn't much open and available.  We finally got into our room and were a little disappointed because it was smaller than our last cruise.  The balcony was smaller and so was the room.  They had a mandatory drill so everyone knows where to meet in case of emergency--ours was in one of the dining rooms.  As soon as the drill was over, I needed to book it back to the spa because I had booked my massage then.  I wish I hadn't made it right then because I ended up missing setting sail and the crowds leaving the drill were nearly impossible to get through and the elevators were packed.  The spa was up eight decks--16 flights of stairs and I did not want to do that.  Elevators would open and they would be full and the people on board would push the close door button and keep going.  Once when this happened, I ducked in quickly and squished myself in.

The massage was okay, but not near as good as my usual masseuse at my chiropractor and about four times the price.  And it turned out to be a big commercial.  I'd booked 75 minutes, but they were giving 15 minutes free on the first day, so it ended up being 90 minutes.  However, they spend part of that time trying to sell you products.  Seaweed apparently will relieve the knots in my back and apparently seaweed is quite expensive!  Later in the evening I was stiff and sore and Scott said my shoulders were actually bruised, so I was not thrilled with my first spa experience.

I ordered a bit of room service, but then we got ready and went to the "Illusionarium."  They have a steam punk magic show and dinner.  I was glad I had eaten some because dinner was not exactly my favorite.  We had some pictures taken there that I thought were really good.  The show was good, but I think I expected more.  Some of the tricks were difficult to figure out how they did it, but most of it was pretty tame.  At one point, there were some birds and we got splattered with what we believe must have been bird poop.  However, I wasn't sure how because we were in the back of the room, nowhere near the stage and no one between us and the stage seemed to react to a spray of poop.  We were a little put off, trying to brush off white stuff from our clothes.  When we got back to the room, Scott ordered some room service too because dinner had been pretty small.

Cruise Log Part 1: Welcome to Miami (Bienvenido a Miami)

The last time I went on a cruise, I documented our trip as we went along, trying to blog daily.  This time, I didn't do that.  I took notes to remember things and started writing this account about a week and a half after we got back before I started forgetting details, but with the holidays and I was sick pretty much the whole month of January and part of February, I didn't get back it until now.  So, my memory of the details may have faded somewhat.

I blog sometimes, not to tell someone else my story, but so that I can go back and remember later.  I suppose I could just do that in a journal, but blogging is my journal that I am willing to share with others.

It took me a while to get to writing because we arrived home 10 days before Christmas this time and things were hectic.  In my mind, I knew it was Christmas.  I saw the decorations in Miami and the Caribbean, but since I have always lived in places with cold weather and snow, it did not compute to me to see these decorations alongside palm trees and sandy beaches and in tank top and shorts weather.  So, a day or two after I arrived back home, it dawned on me that Christmas was in a week and my kids were starting their winter break in a couple of days.  I had serious shopping to complete, plus other plans and arrangements to be made.

I'll likely break this blogging up into pieces, as I did with my first cruise blog, so as not to overwhelm (you OR me).

This year was our 5th anniversary, so my generous mother-in-law decided to mark the momentous occasion with a gift cruise.  All-inclusive--hotel, flights, rental car, excursions, and spending money.  We started planning the cruise back in the spring or summer, but when it got close, time seemed to fly by.

My mother and my husband's mother were going to babysit my children while we were gone.  This made me quite nervous.  If you are personally acquainted with me or have followed this blog for long, you know that my son is not a typical child, but has quite a few special needs.  Now, granted, we went on a cruise 5 years ago and my mother-in-law babysat them alone.  However, there was quite a bit different at that time.  Yes, my son was having problems at the time, but they hadn't escalated to the magnitude that they have been at this year.  At that point, there was some behavior problems and some concern that there might be a problem that needed to be investigated, but he was four years old and manageable.  Now, he is nine and has been hospitalized twice this past year for threats of violence to himself and others.  He's been suspended numerous times.  He's been diagnosed with ADHD and bipolar disorder and there are conflicting opinions about whether he might have a form of autism.  His old school couldn't handle him, so he is in a special behavior program at a new school.  And he is strong.  It's increasingly hard for me to control him, let alone his two grandmas.  The other difference is that the last time, the kids were not as involved in outside activities as they are now.  While we were gone this time, there was an orchestra concert, a music program, two karate classes, a church Christmas party for the teen girls, two youth group meetings, drama club, pancake breakfast for charity, etc.

So, I began the arduous task of writing out detailed instructions.  The grandmas scoffed and said all would be well and I shouldn't stress about it, but what they didn't understand was that that was how I was dealing with my stress.

Things got really hairy when the week before our trip, my grandmother took a nasty fall.  It was my mom's birthday and the day before Thanksgiving and we were trying to Skype my mother so the kids could sing happy birthday to her.  At that moment, my grandma showed up at my mom's house and said she had fallen at the store and thought she might have broken her wrist and needed to go to the hospital.  She says it nonchalantly and then looks around and sees that my mother is doing laundry and in true tough lady grandma form, says, "Oh, well, if you're busy, I can go myself.  Or we can go see the doctor next week."  My mom dropped everything and took her to the minor emergency.  Turned out her wrist was both fractured and dislocated.  And she would need surgery.  They scheduled surgery the same day that the moms were supposed to leave to come here to babysit.  My grandma is so tough that as soon as she got home from having a mastectomy a couple of years ago, she started doing laundry.  We thought this time would be the same.  But once the adrenaline wore off, she was in excruciating pain.  She walked the floor, moaning and crying most of the night and the pain was so bad, she was vomiting.  Thanksgiving day, mom took her to the E.R. while my uncle prepared the holiday meal (for which 8 of our large family showed up for).  They did a form of traction on her and put a cooling pack around her wrist and sent her home.  The surgery was outpatient and supposedly scheduled for early in the morning.  We were worried that my mom would not be able to come because as bad as this was going for grandma, my mom might be needed to care for her.  She moved a block away from her to be close to her and we couldn't see her leaving grandma immediately after surgery.  We would have liked for grandma to have come with mom so she could have had someone to watch over her and nurse her (my mother-in-law is a retired nurse), but she wouldn't consider leaving her house for almost two weeks, not to mention her post-op appointments.  My uncle took two days off of work and my aunt took a couple of days off after that, so they had grandma under supervision for six days with the weekend.  So, my mom decided that barring any complications, she would still come.  The surgery didn't start until the afternoon, but everything went well.  They put in a plate and several large screws.  After she recovered, my mom left and I felt guilty.

By the time they arrived, it was dinner time, so we ate together and had a couple of hours to talk and go over things before I had to go back to packing and we all went to bed.  We had to be up early to catch our flight.  Long drive to the airport, park at long term parking, shuttle to airport, check baggage, go through security, then sit and wait for the flight to leave at 8:10am.

This was my first time in first class on a plane.  I have always hated flying because I am claustrophobic and I hate being squished in with other people.  It's not AS bad if you are seated with friends or family, but when it's strangers, they are inevitably in my bubble.  My first time ever flying when I was 18 and going to Germany to live with my new husband, I ended up on a huge plane (I think it was a 777) with two seats, an aisle, five seats, another aisle, and two more seats across one row.  And, you guessed it, I was in the middle of the five seats.  Fortunately, I was surrounded by some elderly church ladies who were very nice, but even that doesn't stave off claustrophobia for an 8 hour flight.  First class was great because we had priority boarding and the seats were larger with more leg room and we were given drink service twice along with snacks for the less than two hour flight.  We also didn't have to pay extra for baggage--we were each able to check three bags.

Now, this is where we hit some turbulence.  No, not in the air, but between me and my husband.  I had planned on us each having two suitcases and was desperately wondering how I was going to fit it all in for 12 days when he told me that we were allowed three.  I was relieved.  However, he didn't want me to bring three.  So, we had a brief disagreement about the bags.  The other hitch was that apparently our luggage has seen better days.  Our two biggest bags were tearing.  One was still usable, though the outside pocket was not--the other one was beyond hope.  So, we had to settle for smaller suitcases, vowing that one of our next purchases would be a new set or luggage.  And while we were at it, some of those new-fangled rolling ones that you don't have to tip--they just follow you like a dog on a leash.  We settled on my taking three bags and his taking two.  He carried on his laptop bag and I carried on my laptop/camera bag and my crocheting bag with my purse tucked inside.

Now, you may ask why in the world I needed three suitcases (and still some of my stuff rolled over to my husband's suitcase).  The last cruise, I had read somewhere that you shouldn't overpack.  Don't take too much, you don't need it.  So, I didn't.  And then I started running out of clothes.  And lamenting my lack of variety in my wardrobe.  Due to that, and the fact that we were spending three days in Miami prior to the cruise, and two days after, I wanted to have enough clothing and have a variety for whatever we decided to do.  I am glad I did.  We did do a little bit of laundry in Miami on the third day.  I came home with clean clothes, it's true.  But, I would rather come home with a couple of extra outfits than to run out or wish you had thought to bring this thing or that.

Back to the flight.  My husband put me by the window because I love clouds and I am a photographer.  My claustrophobia didn't bother me at this since we had plenty of room in first class.  We had a layover in Atlanta and then we pressed on to Miami.  The clouds were amazing and I bored Facebook friends with pictures of them.  I have long pondered whether God would allow me to play on the clouds once I went to heaven since I love them so much, so looking at them from above instead of below, or being between layers was thrilling to me.  I'm easily amused.  I wish I had gotten the camera out quicker.  Just before we landed in Miami, I noticed the shadow of our plane on the clouds and surrounding it was a rainbow circle.  It was beautiful.

We arrived in Miami after 2pm, local time.  The last time we were there, it was in the 50s and raining, which didn't bother us since we had left Kansas City with a ton of snow on the ground, but the locals acted like it was arctic there.  This time, it was warm and sunny.  I called our hotel about a shuttle and to see if we could check in earlier than the 4pm standard time and they said that they were booked up and wouldn't be ready early.  We took the shuttle there, without having anywhere else to go.  We stayed at the Embassy Suites because we really liked it when we stayed there in Ohio when we were on vacation with the kids over the summer.  They have a wonderful tropical common area and a restaurant, so there are plenty of places to hang out, if need be.  But, as it turned out, it needn't be.  We checked right in.  We were going to get a rental car, but we mused that if we didn't plan on leaving the hotel that night, it would be silly to pay for an extra day.  We ended up ordering in from a local pizza place.  Scott got a stromboli and something else and I got a hamburger sub.  We have been wary of local places after our experience on our summer vacation, but this place was good.  Though they did get Scott's stromboli wrong.  Scott went down to the gift shop to get some drinks, but they must have been there for a while because they were flat.

The next day was Thursday and we slept in.  I only get to sleep in on Saturdays and even that is subject to the whim of the kids.  It felt nice to not have to be anywhere.  When we got up, we took the hotel shuttle back to the airport and got the rental car.  I'm going to include a graphic map to show you what I am going to describe.  Our hotel was right next to the airport.  We took the shuttle to the airport and then rode a tram to the rental car station which is just east of the airport and just south of our hotel.  You'd think it would have taken us less than five minutes to get back to the hotel once we picked up the car, but we took a few wrong turns and got lost in Miami traffic and it took us at least half an hour to find our way back.  Even with our phone's GPS.  We rented a Buick something-or-other and it had a wicked rear cam that showed the track you were going to go if you kept at your current angle.  I love my rear cam on my van, but that had me geeking out.  Our hotel charged $16 a night to park there or $18 for valet parking.  We figured $2 was worth it to be able to just drive up to the front door or have someone bring the car around for us, so that's what we did.

Miami drivers are nuts!  I apologize for saying that if you are from Miami, but if you are, then you know it's true.  We were talking to a couple in the shuttle from the hotel to the airport that are from there that warned us about it.  They were not kidding.  We watched a guy in the left turn lane, suddenly decide he wanted to turn right at a red light and get over in front of the other two lanes of traffic to do so.  We saw entire traffic snarls because people would not merge when the signs indicated to do so, they would zip all the way up the line and try to squeeze over in front of all of us who had followed directions.  I was flipped the bird by some guy that I refused to let over in front of me.  He was trying to squeeze in the few inches between me and the car in front of me and I almost believed he was going to take my bumper off before giving up, but I'm stubborn and refused to give, so he got mad and flipped me off, I shrugged because it totally broke my heart [read with sarcasm], and he raced on, looking for another sucker.  He found a hole and later down the road, I passed him with smug satisfaction.  They are worse there than New York City or even Washington D.C.  We thought traffic was bad there when we visited this summer and now my oldest daughter is paranoid about people honking horns.  She hears one and yells, "who (or what) are you honking at???"  She would have LOATHED driving in Miami with all the horns honking.  Once, I took a split second at a light that had just changed before the message traveled from my eye to my brain to my foot to change pedals and the person behind me was already honking.

We went back to the hotel.  Scott had said I would be in charge of finding things to do while we were in Miami, so I set about looking at the room guide and the vacation guide that was left in our room and found a couple of things that sounded interesting.  The first was the Venetian Pool in Coral Gables.  It sounded like a tropical paradise lagoon, but was really a pool carved out of coral.  But, I found out it was closed for renovations.  Then, I saw the Coral Castle.  That sounded intriguing, but the more I looked up pictures and information about it, the more I thought that while it sounded interesting, it was not going to be worth the drive or the admission.  I decided that seeing pictures of it online would satisfy me just fine.  So, that left Miami Beach.  I wanted to go swim in the ocean and take pictures of the beach and the palm trees and lighthouses.  Scott said we were going to get plenty of beach in the Caribbean, but I wanted to go in Miami too.  And we started researching jet ski rentals.

Scott had said that the one thing he wanted to do was to ride a jet ski.  I was not interested at all.  I saw them as high speed death machines.  I do not like to go super fast and I certainly didn't want to fall off because I am not a confident swimmer.  I suggested that I would ride on the back of his, but he insisted that I should get my own.  We spent part of the day researching Groupons and reading reviews online before we finally decided on one we liked.  I had wanted to go to the Florida Keys, but it's a three and a half hour drive from Miami to Key West.  So, it would be seven hours round trip.  Neither of us really wanted to drive that long, even if I did think it would be neat to see and drive on the Overseas Highway.  So, we settled on a jet ski rental place in Key Largo.  Miami Beach was a must see for me, but I really wish I had just gone south to Key Biscayne.  But, that's a story for later.

I had wanted to spend a large portion of my spending money on the spa on the ship.  I wanted relaxation and pampering after all the stress of this year.  But, I wanted to have my hair dyed and highlighted and I figured that they would charge more than it was worth on the ship and might not have the color I wanted, so since we had really decided not to go anywhere, I decided to go get my hair dyed while I was in Miami.  I found a Groupon for a color and highlights for $63 and I called ahead and they said that if I came right away, they could get me in before closing.  So, I hurried out.  I promptly got stuck in rush hour traffic.  The highway systems there are toll roads, most of them, and they flash you as you drive under the cameras.  If you have a "Sun Pass", they charge you less, but if they have to bill you by your license plate, you pay more.  I was really ticked at having to pay to use this highway that was at a standstill.  I was paying to PARK!  I finally got there.  One thing that I noticed about Miami is that they are all super excited about Obamacare.  I saw signs everywhere and right next to the salon, there was a giant blow-up doll of Obama.  Frightening.

I went in to the salon and they told me that even though the Groupon said "color and highlights", it only meant PARTIAL color.  Which should have been my first clue that this was not going to be a good experience.  From perusing Groupons, they are usually quite specific about "partial color" or "single process color", etc.  I asked how much for a full color, since I'd already bought the Groupon and the owner told me $20 more.  I said do it.  I showed them a picture of the color that I wanted as the base and then said I wanted some golden streaks highlighting.  We had a discussion about not going too light.  I had really wanted to do a tri-color, but I decided against it on the spot.  I was afraid this would cost even more and be even more difficult.  They went back and started mixing and were gone quite a while.  Instead of putting sort of a reverse cape on me, like I usually have, they put a smock sort of thing on me.  When she started putting the dye in my hair, my scalp started burning.  I have been dying my hair since I was a teenager and at this point, I dye it 2-3 times a year.  Sometimes I have it done professionally, sometimes I do it myself.  I don't ever recall my scalp burning from the solution.  It has when it's been permed, but never when I colored it.  I probably should have spoken up, but I figured it was just the initial foreign object and it did lessen, though it itched quite a bit.  She was really rubbing it into my scalp which was odd.  Then she did the highlights.  One thing that alarmed me was that occasionally, I would see dye go flying.  Once, a drop splattered my arm.  Once, my nose.  I saw that she had gotten some on her arm and her shirt and when I picked up my cell phone, I saw some on my case.  I was a little concerned about her carelessness with keeping the dye where it was supposed to be.  When she finally rinsed the dye out, I was surprised that she shampooed my hair at least three times during the process.  It's been a while since I have done a professional dye job, but as I recall, I don't remember them shampooing following a dye, just conditioning.  Anyway, they had taken a before picture of my hair and as she was combing it out, she asked me if I wanted her to blow dry it.  Maybe I lead a sheltered life, but generally, when I go to the salon for a chemical process, they dry my hair as part of the service.  Granted, it's not styled, but you can't really tell the true color when it's wet and you need to see that they gave you what you wanted.  Is that just a Midwest thing?  Do they not do that as a courtesy elsewhere?  I guess I should have questioned this, especially after the woman next to me when I came in had had a long, extensive blow dry.  I was beginning to think I would never hear the end of that hair drier.  So, I said sure and I figured they needed it dry for their "after" picture too.  She began blow drying and brushing and putting argan oil in my hair.  And, just like the other woman, she took a very long time.  I was starting to feel sorry for her and the owner because they were past closing time and were just staying open to finish my hair.  When she finished, my hair looked sleek and not a speck of frizz!  The main color was still just not exactly what I wanted, but I was beginning to wonder (considering this was a second attempt at this color) if my hair was just not conducive to this particular shade.  The highlights looked great and overall, I thought it looked amazing, even if the color wasn't as deep as I'd hoped.

I went to the counter to pay and not only did they charge me the $20 extra for the full color but they also charged me $35 for the blow dry!  I was shocked!  $35 to blow dry my hair???  And the kicker was that it was pouring rain outside and I didn't have an umbrella.  So, $35 to walk out and through the parking lot and have the blow dry ruined.  $35 to blow dry and oil hair that wasn't going to be seen except by my husband and the food delivery boy in our hotel room.  I had been prepared to give a larger tip, but now that I had paid $63 for a Groupon and another $55 that I felt was a total scam, I was not in a generous tipping mood, so I only gave her $10.  Even that made me cringe because my Groupon "deal" had now cost me a total of $128.  The owner and I chatted about the Miami drivers and he chalked the bad driving up to all the people from Latin America who bring their country's bad driving habits here.  He said he is from Columbia and they drive much worse there.

I ran out in the rain and sprinted across the parking lot, trying to shield my expensive hair with a piece of paper I dug out of my purse.  And I drove back to the hotel.  I mentioned that the only person to see my coif other than my husband was the food delivery guy.  I had wanted to go try Benihana since I found out they had one near Miami Beach because I use one of their copycat sauce recipes and I love it.  But, we decided not to get out again in the rain and ordered in some Chinese food that was pretty good.  In our free time, Scott played games on his laptop or napped and I crocheted or listened to my audio book.  It was nice to just sit back and relax and do whatever we wanted.  As we were sitting, eating, I noticed a blotch of hair dye on my skirt.  Her wild painting and hair dye flying had landed on my skirt because the smock wasn't long enough to cover everything.  This was a new skirt that my mom had just made me and this was the first time I had worn it.  I was furious and later gave negative reviews on every site I could find.  They were nice people, but between overcharging and ruining my clothing, I wasn't happy.  My scalp was red and flaking for days afterward, as well.

The next day, we were going to go jet skiing.  We headed down to Key Largo.  The place was a bit hard to find.  We found the address with the GPS on our phones and saw a sign over a parking lot indicating it was there.  But, all we saw was a gift shop and a restaurant and behind that, guys working on who knows what and boats in a channel.  When Scott went to ask someone, one of the men behind the gift shop asked if he could help me and I told him we were looking for the jet ski place.  He asked his buddies where "that girl" was and one asked me to follow him around the boardwalk that bordered the waterway.  He commented that the jet skis were brand new and nice, so we were sure to enjoy it.  Across the waterway from the gift shop, there was a jet ski dock and life preservers and a girl and a guy.  The girl introduced herself as P.J. and said she would be our guide.  Scott found me and after we talked to P.J. for a bit about what the plan was, he went to change.  I had worn my swimsuit there with a sarong covering my bottom half and a t-shirt covering the top.  I kicked off my flip flops and my cover-ups and put on a life vest and P.J. brought us some bottled water.  We had to keep our driver's licenses and water in a small "glove compartment".  I had my waterproof camera strap wrapped around my wrist.

We headed out through different channels towards the bay.  There are lots of nice vacation homes along the canals, with boats and jet skis moored in front of them.  You cannot go fast through these channels for safety reasons and also I believe it's a courtesy so the residents don't have to hear loud motors and they don't have to deal with the wakes that are caused by fast moving aquatic vehicles.

It didn't seem so hard.  Once it's started, the jet ski propels forward slowly on its own.  It's pretty stable staying upright, though turns freaked me out a bit, so I found I was only comfortable turning when I slowed way down.  My husband was flying around the bay at 50-60mph, but I didn't care about speed.  I was really enjoying it more than I thought I would and I took some video.  I got up to 30-35 mph, but that was as fast as I was prepared to go.  The kids saw the video and called me chicken.  It was really fun.  There had been another jet skier in the area where we were and when I saw someone had fallen off their jet ski, I thought it was him.  But, when our guide came zipping over, I realized it was my husband!  He said he hadn't even been going fast, just a wave caught him and instead of trying to fight to stay on, he just went in the water, like she'd instructed.  However, those things only had one bar at the back to remount if you fall off.  And it's up high, and it's spring loaded so that it pops back up if you aren't actively pushing it down.  It sits just below the surface of the water and if you are in the water up to your chest because of floating with the lifejacket, you can imagine how high you have to get your leg up to even get on that bar and then you have to pull yourself out of the water and up onto the seat from there.  And there are no good handholds.  Not good design features.  Our guide said she had trouble getting up on it from the water and she was a tiny little thing.  Scott tried and would almost get it, but then run out of strength.  Then P.J. abandoned her jet ski to jump on his to try to give him some leverage to get up.  But, the longer this went on, the worse it was because he was getting more and more fatigued.  P.J. hopped on the back of my jet ski and had me take her to hers, which had drifted away.  It was a little scary getting next to his so she could get on mine and next to hers so she could retrieve it because they had documented scratches before we went out and we would have to pay for any damage we might cause, so I was scared of scraping.  But, I managed to get close enough without scratching and she complimented my driving skills.  She'd had an idea and took off across the bay.  She went to a fishing boat and spoke with the captain.  He brought his boat over and put down his ladder and Scott was able to climb that and then step over onto the jet ski.

By that, time, he was exhausted and had had enough.  Our time was about up anyway, so we started heading back.  I totally want to do that again!  I was so crusted with salt though, afterwards!

When we got back, we went into the gift shop and bought some souvenirs.  I apparently spaced out and got myself a Key West shirt, forgetting we were in Key Largo.  Whoops!  Guess I was Key-fused!

We were tired, so we ordered in.  I got food from Burritoville (which was pretty darn good) and Scott tried the pizza place again and they got his order right this time.  We made a trip to WalMart to get some videos, an HDMI cable, some bottled pop, laundry detergent and other sundries.  When we got back, I did the little bit of laundry we had, so we wouldn't start off the cruise with a bag of dirty laundry and so we wouldn't run out of socks and underwear!

Happy Birthday in Heaven

My husband wonders why I am focusing on what would have been my dad's 70th birthday today.  It's not that I don't think of him every year on his birthday or on the day he died and other times, but I mentioned it because it would have been a big birthday.  Maybe it's the numbers.  So many to mark the passage of time that seemed like it flew by so quickly.

This year is my 20th high school reunion.  And, if I had stayed married to my first husband, we would have been married 20 years this year.  I remember thinking that 20th anniversaries were a big deal and was such a long time.  But, now, it doesn't feel so long.  I feel like high school was yesterday.  Twenty years ago, my dad was 50 and my grandpa was getting ready to turn 70.  I remember my grandma writing to me and asking if I could believe that "that young man" was turning 70.  But, today, if my dad were still alive, HE would be 70.  And if my grandpa were still alive, HE would be 90 next year.  I'll be 40 next year.  My mom will be 70 in a couple of years and my grandma will be 90 in three.  40 used to seem so old, until I started staring down the barrel of it.  70 was the age of my grandparents, now it's my parents.  90 years was an amazing length of time for someone to have made it to, but my grandma is so strong and vibrant that 90 seems incongruous.

It's all perspective, I suppose.  My kids think I'm ancient and I don't feel that way (well, in some ways I do, but otherwise, I feel like it hasn't been that long since I was their age).  I thought 70 was near death when I was young, but I don't think of my mom that way now.  94 was how old my great-grandmother was when she died and she always seemed so frail, but now that my grandmother is nearing that decade, it seems completely different for her.  Maybe it's that my former perceptions are not matching with my current reality that is making me focus on it a bit more.

In any case, it's not depression that's causing me to fixate, it's the numbers: 20, 40, 70, and 90.

My son can melt my heart even when he's causing heartache

Today my son was supposed to meet a new psychiatrist.  That turned out not to be a problem getting him out of school due to his being suspended yesterday for punching his teacher in his junk.  Yeah.

So, we had a psychiatrist we liked who had him pretty stable and had seen him through two hospitalizations.  But, my ex, who barely shows up and has no clue what's going on, despite being provided all the testing and documents, decided to throw a wrench in everything.  We've been dealing with custody issues in court for a year and a half.  The only straw he could grasp at was to claim I'm overmedicating the children.  He never got a second opinion, as he told the court he needed time for or went to any doctors' appointments or even spoke to any doctors... until he called Billy's psychiatrist and told her he disagreed with Billy's ADHD meds (that he's been on for 4 years) and that he had 50/50 decision making power and he wasn't going to give him the meds anymore.  The doctor understood the situation and sided with me, but felt she couldn't legally prescribe the meds anymore and furthermore didn't want to be in the middle of this argument and quit being his doctor.

I'd hoped the court stuff would be done in December, so our primary care physician gave us three months' worth of meds and I'd hoped we'd get it settled and could go right back to her.  But, court proceedings were continued and i tried to go back to our PCP but was seen by another doctor in the practice who lectured me about it being my responsibility to find a psychiatrist and only giving us a month's worth of meds.  I'd found some leftover meds of a lower dosage from when we upped the milligrams a few months back to get him by in the meanwhile.  Even 10 milligrams difference, we can tell there's a huge change.  Children's Mercy only takes patients who also have a physical ailment.  So, i set up this appointment with a doctor that had been recommended to us by our insurance liaison.

There was something about the guy i didn't like, but it boiled down to him saying he couldn't take Billy as a patient unless we had sole custody or Billy's dad not only signed authorization saying he was ok with the treatment but actually came to the appointments and participated in the treatment.

Our lawyer had his dad in for a deposition a couple of weeks ago and he denied ever telling the psychiatrist those things and said he believed the only thing wrong with Billy is ADHD, though ironically, that's the meds he didn't like.  He admitted he's never gotten a second opinion, gone to any of their appointments, or contacted any of their doctors.  Yet, he's ruined all of Billy's chances to get treatment.  He claims to be concerned about the meds, but this has left Billy with no one to monitor his meds since August.

Billy has 9 more of the low dose ADHD meds.  Even if the case were wrapped up tomorrow, we couldn't get in to a doctor that fast. His other meds, antidepressants and antipsychotics that keep him from self-harm and violence against others will run out, respectively, in March, April, and May.  If nothing happens to intervene, his behavior at school will deteriorate as will his grades, he'll likely start threatening or attempting suicide again, or start more violence towards others and we'll end up with another hospitalization.

Needless to say, I've been angry and upset ever since.  Fury at first, then sorrow.

Billy brought me a coloring page of the Incredible Hulk and had written on it, "you're as strong as Hulk.  Don't be sad."  On the back, he'd drawn a diagram where no pills equaled unhappy face and unhappy face equaled both of us.  Then he wrote off to the side "we don't want that, we want this."  Below, his diagram showed unhappy face does not equal us and smiley face equals strong.  He also brought me a drawing of "supermom."  He told me that even without meds, he'd try to be good, even though it's hard (though no amount of mind over matter can power through bipolar disorder).  He hugged me and it made me cry that he was trying to cheer me up when I'm fighting for him.