Here I am back, and I think I need a vacation from my vacation. At least I have a few days off to adjust to life in the real world before I have to dive back into work. Facing rain and cold weather (well, cool) is a shock after wearing shorts and swim suits for a week.

We had a great time. I worked really hard at making this a vacation of a lifetime for the kids, and for the most part, I think I was successful. I didn’t bite off any head until we were in the airport on the way home at least, but that’s extremely stressful anyway.

The kids weren’t too happy about waking up at 3 AM to leave, but they were too excited to sleep in the truck. The plane ride was a first for Seamus, and John hadn’t been on one since he was five, so I don’t think he was as blasé about it as he tried to be.

Hitting San Diego was a shock since we were dressed for the warm weather. We found the rest of the family right away so the kids all had cousins to distract themselves with. That turned out to be the pattern of the whole trip — combinations of brothers and sisters would fight, but throw cousins into the mix and they were all good.

After waiting hours for a shuttle for the mile that we could have walked and in line to get checked in, which was like Disneyland only not so much fun, we were onboard and on our way. The kids wanted to immediately explode and scatter, but none of us parental types thought that was a good idea. Besides, we had to do the lifeboat drill:

O was in my room and Mom and Dad were right down the hall, so we were in the same lifeboat. I was a little worried about being a parent to three before we left, but it turned out that as long as one of the three was a cousin, it was much easier. The cousins rotated every night, and when I had Phoebs, I ended up with smacks on the face and a fuzzy head up in my armpit each night. She’s very cuddly, and I always chose to have the youngest one sleep with me over the stinky boys. If it wasn’t Phoebs, it was Seamus, who at least sleeps on his own side and doesn’t snore.

I should have grabbed a picture of the room. What was cozy for one person was a little claustrophobic for four, especially when three of them were boys. I’m not the neatest person in the world, and there wasn’t enough space for all of us to unpack anyway, so my room always looked like a boy-bomb had gone off in it. Uncle Rob took one look and shuddered, never to cross my doorstep again.

The ship didn’t sail until dark, so we took all of the kids to the aft deck and let them watch the goings-on.

And then it was a whole day at sea. The kids didn’t want to go to the kids’ club, so we spent most of the cruise on the Lido Deck with the pool. I got more swimming time in this week than I have in the last five years — not by choice, but because Seamus isn’t a strong enough swimmer to be on his own and it wasn’t fair for all of the other kids to swim while he had to sit out. By the end of the trip, I was content to sit on the edge of the pool and let him bumble around on the sides.

Both Mom and Dad and Gramma and Grampa spent a lot of time hiding from the thundering herd, but they came and sat with us each day. Grampa especially seemed to get a kick out of the kids having a good time.

Next stop, Cabo San Lucas, and I’ve just discovered that I’ve mislabeled all of my photos. Things sort of blended together there; good thing they sent us home or I would never have known what day it is.  

For my Dad’s birthday, which was the Friday we left, I had wanted to go out with him on a fishing cruise and take all of the boys. But fishing was pretty expensive and the only sponsored trips were on days that we already had reservations for other things. Dad did not want to take four boys out on some random boat that I picked up at the dock, so instead we brought Mom and Dad on our extremely touristy-sounding Pirate Ship Snorkeling Adventure.

But as hokey as that could have been, it wasn’t. It was an old wooden ship, and sure, the sailors were all dressed up as pirates, but they were really great. The ship was only about half full, and they motored us out of the harbor and past the edge of the bay (where I discovered that I didn’t take nearly enough pictures, as was the theme of the whole trip for me.) They took us out past the arches and hoisted the sails and turned off the motor. Sailing was so nice and peaceful that I could have done it all day, and was why I’d forgotten that I even had the camera. I was too wrapped up in actually enjoying myself to remember to document it, which is really a switch for me.

After we sailed around and watched some whales in the distance, the captain took us back into the bay to do some snorkeling. The swimmers in the family suited up first, and I held back with Seamus. John and O were buddies and took off together while I hoped they would please wait for Aunt Bonnie.

Finally, Seamus and I went in the water. I’m not all that much of a swimmer though, and I got a mouthful of seawater. Between that and having a frightened kids clinging to me, I decided that snorkeling in the deep wasn’t all that much fun and I decided that we should go in before my incipient panicking brought on an asthma attack. Fortunately, these pirates were the rum punch variety, so I was quite happy to stay on board and partake with my mom and No, who came in when he saw me coming in.

So poor Aunt Bonnie not only had her own Phoebs clinging to her like a limpet, but the two older boys following her in to the beach. Uncle Rob and my dad (the best swimmers of the family) had gone off in a different and more challenging direction.

I lurked by the plank and took pictures of everyone coming in. Of course, that’s not the most flattering angle, what with the mask and the flapping swim fins, so most of the pictures aren’t exactly fit to print. I could, but I’d be keelhauled even if they had to fly me back to Mexico to find a ship willing to do it.

Here’s O coming in though, and he looks like he had fun.

And I got what I think is the happiest picture of my Dad that I’ve ever taken:

Sadly, the boat ride was over way too soon, but we all learned a lesson on “Embrace the Corny” that day. And also that rum punch is very good.

After we hit the dock, the family dynamics started to shake down into their natural orders. We stood at the end and debated which way to go. Dad had had enough family togetherness and went back to the ship for some peace, and the rest of us were hungry. Since Bonnie and Mom are just a little decision-impaired, they were perfectly content to follow Rob and I, who are very good at making decisions. Unfortunately, this was where Rob learned that while I’m good at the snap decision, they aren’t always right, so we walked up into a kind of shady neighborhood before we figured out that we should have turned around.

Finally though, we got going down to the tourist section where we belonged, and Rob and I agreed that the first restaurant that we saw looked just fine. Then we all had to have the family discussion over whether or not it was safe to drink the ice with the sodas (I lived dangerously, but really, who wants to deal with a kid with Montezuma’s Revenge on vacation? Turns out that we were all fine for the whole trip.)

And the street vendors, my god! You couldn’t get a bite in your mouth without some little kid blowing a whistle in your ear or asking if you wanted a bobble-head turtle! I had predetermined that I wanted a piece of silver though, and negotiated a vendor for a nice coral bracelet. The family laughed at me because I’m the most hard-assed of the bunch and here I was buying the first thing. Well, the second if you count the picture of the iguana in a sombrero on O’s head.

Lunch was great. Pheobs declared that my shrimp burrito contained “krill” and that she wanted no part of it. A little too many nature videos, anyone? But she did have a bite of my shrimp and actually liked it, so I teased her about her krill for the rest of the trip.

After lunch was shopping, and getting there involved figuring out how to manage the thundering herd. It turned out that as long as we had one parent leading and one riding drag, we were OK, but man, it was like herding cats. I swear, five kids can go in fourteen different directions at once. Bonnie stopped and had Phoebs’ hair braided, which is terribly cute on a five year old but not so much on an overweight middle-aged woman, so I restrained myself.

It lasted for the rest of the trip too, but I betcha Bonnie’s got it undone by now, since some of the older girls on the ship were complaining about their hair falling out in chunks after they took theirs out.

Next stop; Puerta Vallarta

On Christmas Day in Puerto Vallarta, we scattered to the winds. Bonnie and Rob had found that the zipline tour through the cruise was booked months ago and found an independent company offering one that was even better, but Phoebs was too young to go and Seamus and Aunt Julie were too chicken. So they went and swung like monkeys from the treetops and the three of us and my mom took the younguns to a kids dolphin encounter.

Only when we got there, the lady was very specific that those of us with pink tags were to wait and she’d come collect us later. We thought they must have had a smaller pool for the little guys, because the bigger kids and the adults were right in front of us. We watched one of the other groups for almost an hour before we got antsy. The parents of the other little girl waiting went and made sure that they knew we were still there, and ten minutes or so after that, I did too.

Finally the tour guide came and got us and was all apologetic. It seems that she’d meant to include us with another group and had forgotten about us. Poor kids, and they were so good about waiting too.

So one of the trainers took these three little guys all by themselves and they got some really great one on one time with two adult dolphins and one baby. Since we ended up being a special group, their photographer was busy, so they lifted the no-cameras restriction and let us parents in to watch up close. I got some outstanding pictures with my good camera and really regretted when I burned through two rolls of film and had to switch to the digital. I had double prints made for the other family too, so they didn’t miss out (turns out they were from the town I grew up in — small world.)

The kids had a great time, and Phoebs even fed a squid to Nuna the dolphin, when she’d insisted that she wasn’t going to touch the icky stuff (such a girl!)

I’ll have to post pictures from John’s monkey trip when Bonnie sends them to me, but sadly, their photographer had the day off and they weren’t allowed to bring cameras in the canopy, so there aren’t many. And John’s strangely silent about the tequila factory tour they took on the way home!

Next stop: Mazatlan and time at the beach!

The next stop was Mazatlan and Rob and I agreed that it was time to let the kids have some free fun at the beach. The eight of us hopped in a taxi that dropped us off at an alarming bar that seemed to have been the scene of a riot the night before. There was broken glass and plastic cups everywhere, and the place absolutely reeked of stale beer and piss.

The taxi driver assured us that this was the way to the beach, but the gate was locked. So seven people hopped down from the wall while I got more and more nervous about the six foot drop — heights are not my thing, you know. A friendly catamaran sailor tried to help me down, but eventually I just jumped and landed badly on my bad ankle, which was sore for the rest of the day.

This beach was sort of between some private resort beaches so it wasn’t too busy, even though it was a national holiday and lots of families were out. The kids played in the surf for a while and then Rob rented some boogie boards and there were kids flying everywhere.

Some guys with waverunners who apparently were friends of the catamaran guy came by, and Rob and I each rented one for half an hour to take the boys for a ride. Seamus was a little nervous and wanted to come in before his turn was completely over, but John had a great time. I let him drive for a while, but the thing was so strong that I had to hold onto the steering yoke while he did — not so I could steer for him, but so I didn’t slither off the back end when he accelerated. Again, we’ve got to wait for pictures, because O brought his underwater camera out and we all took pictures in the middle of the ocean before we had to come in.

I learned a lesson about not putting sunscreen on your own back — I have fingerprints where it took and I’m lobster red where it didn’t. The kids got a little toasty too, so we left the beach and went to lunch and bought T-shirts before we all got too cranky.

The next thing Rob had on his agenda (Rob’s a good one for the agendas, and it was great to just let someone else be in charge for once) was to see the cliff divers on the other side of the city. Cabs at the beach are modified golf carts, so we took two and held informal races all the way down there.

This side of the beach wasn’t very touristy at all, so while Bonnie went to look for a 5 peso potty, the boys and I took a peek up at the platform of the divers. I took one look at the arched concrete stairs with no rails and backed away. Rob took his boys up it, but No came down on his butt, so I’m thinking it wasn’t just me.

We paid one of the divers ten dollars to jump off of the cliff — doesn’t that sound oppressive? But really, that’s what they were hanging around to do, and they only did it for tips. We were between tour groups, but once he was up there, a crowd gathered to watch. He climbed right out on the railing, crossed himself and meant it, and dove into the rocks. I could hardly watch, but I did get a picture.

Then we all bought necklaces from a street vendor which the boys were thrilled with — we all wore them for the rest of the trip and mine pleased me much more than the fancy bracelet. They were much cheaper than the beach vendors’ things too, of course.

That was also the night that Gramma and Grampa took us out to the fancy dinner. The kids all did really well, even though the chef’s Amuse Bouche selection didn’t go over too well with most of them. Phoebs pilfered Seamus’ shrimp and I ate his Salmon Tartare and there was generally a lot of switching around.

The cap of the evening though, was the Baked Alaska desserts that the waiter lit on fire at each place setting. Seamus and No both ordered that and their eyes got huge when they were presented with flaming desserts. Sadly, our family knows from years of plum pudding experience that the blue alcohol flames just don’t show up on pictures, but by now, a picture that you point to and say, “That’s where the flames are” is as much a Christmas tradition as anything.

The last stop was a new one for this ship line in Pichilingue and La Paz. We had to take a shuttle to get to the beach, but the city seemed to be courting the cruise ship trade, because they provided all of the busing to the beach and the city, and they were the best buses that we were on for the whole trip.

This stop was inside the Sea of Cortez, so the boys’ hopes of boogie boarding again were dashed, but I loved it. We went to this tiny little beach with a few bars and restaurants that didn’t mind you using their lounge chairs, and one guy with an old blazer launching fishing boats directly off the beach.

The sea was so even and shallow that we waded out for at least a hundred yards. I was watching schools of fish dash around me when I spotted a puffer fish minding its own business. I called the boys over and we herded the thing into the shallow water so the little guys could see it. Phoebe was not amused (she was worried about sharks) but we got a kick out of watching it puff up before we stopped tormenting it.

Rob rented a couple of kayaks and his boys paddled around for a while. I took Seamus out too, but I wasn’t all that confident in my arm strength to get us back in if the wind picked up any more.

The boys all dug sand cities and got covered in mud while I drank what was easily the strongest margarita that I’ve ever had. I swear I was loopy for hours. He put at least four shots in it and laughed at me when my eyes got big. This was when I discovered that it’s not tequila that I don’t like; it’s bad tequila that I don’t like. Apparently the good stuff is just fine with me, and I brought some home. So I stumbled around picking up tiny shells for the future fish tank and didn’t notice that it was getting overcast and everyone else wanted to go home.

If I ever decide to quit polite society and go live on a beach, this one will be high on my list of potentials.

Bonnie and I zipped into town later on our one excursion without the kids. This town reminded me so much of my college town — touristy, but not overly so. It didn’t stink and barkers didn’t accost you every three feet. I know they want the tourist trade, but I hope they can keep their sense of self among the throng.

I think that was the night that Bonnie and Rob and I got dressed up and went to an actual sit down dinner in the dining room with Gramma and Grampa while Mom and Dad watched the kids. We did drag them to the dining room one night, but it’s really not a kid-friendly experience and the buffet worked for them.

We also took our family portrait that night:

Everyone’s there except my aunt and her husband. Grampa was pretty peeved that they didn’t come but honestly, they would have been like having sand in your swim suit for eight days and the rest of us had a better trip for it.

The last two days were sea days and we really stretched trying to keep the kids entertained. There was a lot of swimming in the pool and they finally checked out the club and made some other friends. Except Phoebe, who had made friends on the first day, apparently by the sheer factor of being five and a girl. She had friends all over the ship. The boys had built-in playmates though, and didn’t get tired of each other.

I was surprised at how well the eight of us (parents and kids) got along, actually. I haven’t spent that much time with my sister since I moved out at eighteen, and we got along great. Mom and Dad and Gramma and Grampa could just leave when the herd got too noisy for them, but we were kind of all stuck together since neither of us wanted to dump the whole lot on the other.

It was both easier and more exhausting than I’d though. Easier because the kids entertained themselves and didn’t even squabble, which was a minor miracle. Harder because I’m used to having an awful lot of my time to myself — even when I have the kids, they can be in another room, and we don’t all sleep piled up like puppies. I think besides that trip to town with Bonnie, I had about an hour when the small kids were at the club and the big kids were off doing their own thing.

But that’s OK; this trip wasn’t about me. It was about the kids getting to have the times of their lives, getting to really know their cousins, and spending one last hurrah with all of our family. At least Grampa says it’s the last hurrah, but he’s said that for at least fifteen years. We’d really like him to stick around at least until 92 since 91 is Tuesday. I hope he got what he wanted out of the trip, and I think he did. At the end of it, Bonnie and I presented him and Gramma with a photo album of pictures we’d taken during the vacation and put together on the last day of the cruise. I’ve got some more pages to add to it, but I wanted them to see what we were doing off of the ship while they were enjoying their quiet time on it, and to see that we really genuinely enjoyed ourselves.

So thanks Grampa. We did!

I think being off the hook for most Christmassy things (and atheist and all, I still call it Christmas and think people are being stupid about it) has let me get away with a little too much Grinchiness. It is nice on the one hand that I don’t have to face a traditional holiday without half of my family, whose loss I still feel pretty sharply this time of year. But I think it lets me indulge my bad attitude a little too much.

I’m going to have to make a concerted effort to have fun on this cruise and not let my rotten mood affect everyone else. My sister called yesterday, and I’m afraid my pessimism spread to her. Sorry Bonnie, actually the kids and I will be fine with an extra boy at night. John is thrilled to get his cousin to himself for that long!

I haven’t spent this much time with my family since I was eighteen, so of course, there hasn’t been any fighting in that length of time either. I don’t expect any now, because we’re all adults and like each other very much, but I do have to remember to watch what I say in a manner that just doesn’t come up at a once-yearly four-hour visit.

And it’s the kids’ Christmas too, and their vacation as well. I’m going to have to concentrate on not being grouchy and letting them have their fun. Bonnie’s much better at that than I am — even with 50% more children, she’s a much more relaxed mom. I’m going to have to take my cues from her.

I joke about just staying drunk the whole time, but there’s a little truth to that. A little alcohol (not a ton!) will loosen me up, and the kids can’t get into any trouble anyway. Not on the ship at least; different rules will apply on shore excursions.

We do have a few of those pinned down too. Aunt Bonnie’s taking her kids and John on a jungle canopy tour. I’m sure it will be fascinating, but it would be sort of a waste for me to spend money to cling to the side of a tree in terror thirty feet in the sky, so I’m passing. I will however, take all four boys and my Dad on a fishing trip, because while she’s the adventurous, tolerant aunt, I’m the outdoorsy hunting/fishing aunt, and I’ve always wanted to share that with all of them. Finally, they’re old enough for a short excursion like that, and I’m really looking forward to it. No, I hadn’t yet mentioned to my Dad that all of the boys are coming, why do you ask? Happy Birthday Dad! Here’s a zoo!

So I guess I am getting excited about the trip. I am all packed and ready to go once I take care of the mail and newspaper later today. It’s just not feeling very Christmassy, and that’s OK. I did get away with hardly wrapping anything, I only went to one party, and we didn’t even put up the tree. I did send out cards, which I’ve meant to do for the last five years (wow, that’s some procrastination) but addressing them from my office in front of the computer isn’t quite the same as filling them out in front of the fire with music in the background.

It is very relaxing, being a slacker, but I do feel a little bad that the kids are missing out. True, they have all of that stuff at their other house, and they’re getting something really neat in return. I guess it wouldn’t be Christmas without a boatload of guilt coming from one direction or another, would it?