Blame Canada

Well, we're back from our cruise and it was a blast-blur. Seriously, I don't remember going to bed the whole trip - it was that much fun. I feel like I'm going to go into post-vacation depression or something.

Since the cruise promised their on board connection was crappy, I opted not to sign up for it and didn't touch my iPad until we got to land. I felt so loved to find 287 new messages in my Inbox when we reached Saint John's Ale House, our first "pub" stop in Canada.

I planned to catch up on my blog business there...honestly, I did. How was I to know Canada's standard serving glass was 20 ounces? After four pubs do you think any of my comments would've made sense?

Exactly.

Here are some highlights of the buffoonery we took on our journey to the Great White North.

Looking for sharks...yeah.

Our fabulous window. If you could've been on the other side of it, you would have seen one of us dance naked in front of it at one point. Including me.

Who's gonna see you - a dolphin?

Case in point:

Gollum in Room 126

While babysitting our baby cousin, you can imagine the strange looks we got when my husband pushed the stroller. Two bi-racial kids, one blond-haired, blue-eyed baby? I could see the confusion in the stranger's eyes.

Asian woman adopting white baby? Or Daddy has super white genes?

I told my husband to just say the baby's from another mother and let them out figure the rest.

"Baby from another mother"

And here's Samu on three days of endless buffet food featuring all-you-can-eat hot dogs, fries, pizza, ice cream and cookies.

I'm down (lost at the arcade games)

I'm up (gimme another SODA)

And in between: time to dance naked in front of the window now?

Finally, we just told him to shut up.

"I can't shut up," he said, "I'm a non-shutter-upper!"

No kidding.

He's got a retort for everything. Then again, so does my husband whose idea of a sunset picture with his son should look like this:

Boogers by sunset

 Facebook photo album for those who dare. Thanks to everyone for sticking around while I was away getting Canadian roasted. I promise to be blog stalking as soon as my land legs come back.

Travel Broadens The Large Intestine

I'm not a psychic but I predict that by the time you finish reading this paragraph you will be extremely envious of my position.  I'm on vacay with the fam in Aruba. That's right, we left the pouring rain, record breaking levels in fact, to beautiful 81 degree weather, turquoise blue water and white sandy beaches. It is gorgeous over here.

We are staying at the Divi Tamrajn All Inclusive Resort - same place as last time. All your food and drinks are included. What that means for me and Mikey is an endless glass of Heineken. Sweet. The only problem is, the bar doesn't open until 11am. Now, who drinks at 11am you may ask? Well, on vacation we've been known to start at eight in the morning. The two hours between breakfast and the bar opening can seem as torturous as a day at the library.

We learned our lesson from the last time we were here so we came with a plan. To kill those hours we are forced to stay dry, we will work out at the gym and sweat out off the booze the hard way. I know - eww. What kind of moron works out on vacation, you might ask. But if you've ever worked hard to lose those tough last pounds you know that undoing it all on a vacation is just unforgivable. I finally got rid of the post-pregnancy pounds and when I tried on my bathing suit yesterday it felt really good. P90X doesn't call itself Beachbody.com for no reason - it really worked. Besides, it makes the beer taste better.

The only thing to hate about Aruba is getting there. I hate to fly. The security points are a hassle and I can't believe that it's making air travel any safer. Plus, the airlines just want to charge you an extra hundred dollars for everything. We were seven pounds over on our luggage and for that they would have charged us an extra hundred. So we took some shit out and stuffed it into our carry on. No big deal but it did make me realize that we could never smuggle the baby in our bags to save on airfare. At least it's a good excuse to not have to buy any souvenirs.

Better than any t-shirt or refrigerator magnet is the gift of broadening the mind. Our five-year-old took his first swim unassisted by floating devices in the pool yesterday. Kazuki was so hot when we arrived at the airport that all he could talk about was going in the pool. Since our rooms weren't ready, he didn't have his "swimmies" but he was so gung-ho about getting wet that he jumped in the pool without them. Next thing we knew, he was doing his doggie paddle and staying afloat - they grow up so fast.

As for the three-year-old, he lived up to his name of Christening a throne in every place he visits. During our lay-over in Atlanta, he warned us that he had to "go poopies" just as the plane started to board. Knowing Isamu, when he says he has to poop - he really has to poop so, I took him to the bathroom and watched this huge brown torpedo slip out of his butt. In a way, I guess I just say this because I'm envious of his nerve. And considering his older brother is the king of constipation, I should probably count this as a blessing. As we walked out of the bathroom - him five pounds lighter - I told him that now he could tell people he took a dump in Georgia, too.

So as I watch the sunset from our balcony, drinking perhaps my 17th glass of Heineken (it's six ounce glasses folks), you may still be harboring that jealously from the first paragraph but take comfort in the fact that I will have to go home eventually. And one day it will be you sitting on this sandy beach blogging a "Ha-Ha" to my sorry ass but until then, I will continue to enjoy the sun while my house back home floods with rain water.