Black Belt Mama

Orlando is the New Gilligan's Island

On December 11th, my family and I left for a trip to Disney World. We spent a night at the Philly airport Embassy Suites with my parents and laughed about how we were so happy we had our own rooms at the Caribbean Beach resort in Orlando. Six people sharing one bathroom is do-able for one day. On the 12th, we went to the airport and sat for over an hour waiting for them to finish repairing some kind of generator on the airplane. When you're a nervous air passenger anyway, repairs that are happening in front of your eyes, don't comfort you. Not a bit.

Lil C survived her first flight as if she was going for a car ride. We kept the girls entertained while in the air and landed filled with excitement. What waited for us was a very long line.

It would end up being the theme for the week.

It took us several bus loads full of people until it was our turn. Once on the Magical Express, we were just plain excited. We had the whole day to spend at the park and our luggage would arrive in our room when we returned from the park.

Lil C enjoyed meeting Ariel and Big I enjoyed having her memory restored of the magical place that is the Magic Kingdom. Mr. BBM and I quickly remembered that weekends in the park are no picnic and tried to avoid becoming too frustrated with line-cutters and rude people in the parks. Also, since it was the first day, we bit our tongues when we realized that Disney was routing us through not one, but two gift shops just to exit the Snow White ride. Gift shops with Disney princess and clubhouse fans are no fun for a parent trying to keep the budget in check.

Monday was a better day. We started off at the resort pool where the girls were having a blast. The adults were having a nice time too, right up until Big I told Mr. BBM she was going on the water slide and then didn't come out at the bottom. A full on search began and when we didn't find her in the bathroom, I started to really panic. A good 15 minutes went by without being able to find her and I started running towards the manager with the walkie-talkie, right as Mr. BBM turned up with her. She had been in the "companion bathroom." It had been an emergency. Needless to say, our fun at the pool was over. It took a good hour for the adrenalin and all the bad images to leave my head. My Dad couldn't get the book "The Shack" out of his head during our frantic search; I couldn't get the research paper and speech about Human Trafficking out of mine.

In the afternoon, the girls met characters and made their way through the World Showcase in EPCOT. But Lil C kept yelling out that her mouth hurt. As much as I wanted to believe she was simply in need of a drink, deep down I knew something was up.

Tuesday morning she woke up with a fever over 100 and my heart sank. My hopes for an event free vacation were dashed once again. With our car parked in Philadelphia, I began searching for other options to get her seen by a doctor. Within an hour, a shuttle picked us up and took us to Urgent Care where Lil C was diagnosed with an ear infection. Fortunately, the place was attached to a pharmacy and I was giddy loading up on water bottles that were only $.89 after paying $2.75 the day before.

Lil C started feeling better almost instantly and we spent every day in a park, including our departure date on Saturday, the 19th.

After watching the weather reports for back home that included the words "worst snowfall ever" and "blizzard like conditions," we knew we were in trouble. Flying into Philly in 50 mph winds and horizonal snowfall wasn't going to happen. Being an experienced traveler, Mr. BBM got on the phone with USAir on Friday night. Actually, I should say that he "got on hold" with USAir, because he spent about three hours on hold, just waiting to talk to an agent.

When a terse and snot-tastic agent finally answered the phone, Mr. BBM and I were both sleeping. However, I soon realized that "Hello, USAir. . . Hello USAir" wasn't part of my dreams and yelled for Mr. BBM to pick up the phone. In a daze, he asked about our flight and we were told it was listed as affected. We were able to switch our flight to Sunday afternoon for no charge. We did it, and Mr. BBM used hotel points to book a night at the Embassy Suites. So much for only sharing a room once on vacation.

On Saturday morning, my Mom woke up sick as a dog, but there was nothing for us to do about it. We had park tickets, but no place for her to rest. We had to check out. She spent the day as a trooper, making her way through hoards of people that made me claustrophobic and annoyed. We were definitely "disney'ed out," and when I say that I mean that we were "peopled out." People can really suck. In fact, at one point, if I hadn't spent six days treking through miles and miles of park and hadn't been suffering from both knee, back and hip pain, I think I would have physically removed the huge family who cut us in the bus line and made us miss the bus back to our resort.  And when I say "removed," I mean from this Earth.

On Saturday night we made our way to the airport and then caught the shuttle to Embassy Suites. Our room was really nice and we had a few drinks and decided to make the best of it. At least we didn't have to deal with another public restroom in the Disney Parks. Good God, when you have two little girls, I swear it's all you do.

The next morning, we got all packed up (again) and went to the airport. It listed our flight as "on time" and we were thrilled. We boarded the plane at 1:30 p.m. for the 1:55 flight. At around 2, the pilot came on the radio and said we would be delayed about 45 minutes because of conditions in Philly. Because our first flight had been cancelled, I was sitting with Lil C, a row ahead of Mr. BBM and Big I. My parents were 20 rows ahead of us. After another 30 minute delay, we backed away from the gate and went out to await our take-off. After 45 minutes on the runway, we were told we were going back to the gate. It continued like this all afternoon. Once back at the gate, they gave us drinks and we sat and waited and waited and waited. At 4 p.m. the pilot said he would let us off the plane to get food since there was no food on board. He told us to be back no later than 4:45 because we were probably going to get the go-ahead at 5 p.m. Everyone got off the plane, minus me and the kids and some other families. Mr. BBM went to get us food.

We ate, and were ready to go at 4:45. The eternal optimist, I still believed it was going to happen. At 5 p.m. there was still nothing. We were delayed again. Finally, at 6 p.m., the pilot told us he had some bad news. Philly was gridlock. They had only taken in 16 flights the last hour and the runway lights were covered with drifting snow. Our flight was cancelled. I may or may not have screamed "NOOOOOOO!!!!" I know I at least did in my head. I knew this already though, because the man sitting behind me got a call from his son, who had looked it up on the internet. We were listed as cancelled before our pilot even knew. I asked the flight attendants if they could just drive the plane up the highways and get us home but unfortunately, the answer was no.

We got off the plane and made our way to the ticketing agents once again. The line was insanely long. Every flight to Philadelphia had been cancelled. The problem was that some of the flights were cancelled before the people got on the planes so we were at the back of the line. My Mom and I took the girls (a sleeping Lil C who had fallen asleep on the parked plane, woken up and assumed we were home) to retrieve our bags. When Mr. BBM approached, I knew it was bad news. We weren't flying home until Tuesday afternoon. All Monday flights were booked.

Back to Embassy Suites we went for two more nights. On Monday, I spent about $25 doing laundry in the hotel and my dad and Mr. BBM went out on a 3.5 hour trek to get my Mom a called in antibiotic.

Finally, yesterday, we were able to make it onto a non-delayed or cancelled flight and return back home. Don't get me wrong; I had a great time while in Disney, but the drama that always happens on my vacations has got to stop. This is the third vacation in a row where Urgent Care has been required for Lil C. I just thank God for Embassy Suites' Manager's reception each night (free drinks and snacks). It's seriously the only bright spot during those last few days in Orlando, and what each one of the adults in our party lived for during those last few days.

The next time I go to Orlando in the winter, I am driving. And to Mr. BBM, "I told ya so."

Blog Her 2010, I'm SO There!

I did it. I bought my ticket for the Blog Her conference in NYC next summer and I am already excited. For years, I've been watching the pictures roll in, reading the posts about it, and wishing so badly I could be there. Next year it finally happens. This girl is afraid of flying so I had to wait until it came to the East Coast. New York City, here I come!

I'm a little nervous that after four years of conferences, people already have their "groups" to hang with and that I'll be hanging out solo, so I'd like to ask a couple questions. Who else is planning on going?  Can I convince some awesome readers/bloggers to go? Anyone want to split the cost of a limo to drive us there? Think I should volunteer to teach a "Self Defense Class for Bloggers"? Should I wear my gi so I'm recognizable?

(I'm totally kidding about that last question.)

Visiting the Old Haunts and Corrupting the Children

On Thursday morning, Mr. BBM and I packed up the kids and headed off to Pittsburgh. A couple months ago, my parents took Big I to the "happy valley" or as we Pitt grads like to call it, "enemy territory." She came home with a Penn State hat and a Penn State t-shirt for her little sister which is currently being used as a cleaning rag residing at the bottom of her drawer. Big I also came home with the idea that she was going to attend Penn State one day. Mr. BBM and I have been silently biding our time.

The time was Thursday.

We arrived in Pittsburgh and when she saw the Cathedral of Learning, she was intrigued. Who wouldn't be?

  

We quickly passed by the Pitt campus and went to one of my favorite places where I waitressed while in school, the Union Grill on South Craig St.

Everyone who reads here knows that I kind of watch what I eat and try to eat healthy. It's part of the martial arts lifestyle (or should be anyway) and I do my best to eat well. Well, for the past four days, I ate really well, but not exactly the healthy way.

My favorite thing to eat when I worked there was a cheddar cheeseburger (that was seriously like the size of my head) along with a generous side of garlic roasted mashed potatoes with mushroom gravy. I used to make myself feel a little better by putting a slice of tomato on top of my burger. Vegetables, you know.

I did the same thing on Thursday and I enjoyed every single bite of that delicious enough-calories-for-an-entire-week meal. The mashed potatoes and burger which have frequented my dreams over the years tasted the same. It was like the entire world disappeared when I was eating that meal.

After gorging ourselves, we headed a few blocks over to Pitt's campus. We both knew that the girls would be impressed with the Cathedral of Learning so we started our tour there. Big I and Lil C both thought it looked like a castle and couldn't believe that we had taken classes in that building. We took them up to the 36th floor and showed them the rest of the campus and the city from above. They were impressed.

 

Next we walked through the library before taking them to the fountain in front of the Frick Arts building.

We let them walk around in the fountain with their shoes off and we knew we had them both. Happy what? That's right.

The art building was equally impressive and they enjoyed walking through the countyard garden around the fountain on the interior of the building.  

Then we let them ride the new carousel on the lawn. After that, Mr. BBM bought them some kind of Asian bubble drink. We knew we had them both at the Cathedral. We were laying it on thick and they were loving it.

 

"So what do you think?" we asked Big I.

"I'm so going HERE!" she yelled out.

We bought a Pitt sweatshirt for Lil C and a new Pitt hat for Big I and we drove off to drop off Mr. BBM for his business meeting.

We spent the night in a nearby area with Renovation Girl and had a great time. I literally ate my way through that entire visit too. I need that orzo recipe RG!

In the afternoon we went back to Pittsburgh to retrieve Mr. BBM and decided we'd have dinner at Johnny's Place on North Craig St., the place where Mr. BBM and I met many years ago, instead of fighting with traffic to get out of the city. It wasn't 20 seconds after we walked in and Johnny was already asking us how we've been. I swear the man forgets no one.

Johnny and his wife Karen, used to keep their place open late at night and it was the place to be in North Oakland back in our day. Johnny used to mix up new shot concoctions and let us try a pitcher of them on the house to see how we liked them. He always had the best drinks and the most amazing food. His burger rivaled the Union Grill's and his wings. . . there is no comparison.

Several years ago, Mr. BBM had a trip out to Pittsburgh. He asked me if I wanted him to bring anything back for me and I told him "wings from Johnny's." They survived a flight home beautifully and I was a very happy girl. When we walked in, Johnny immediately asked Mr. BBM how those wings turned out after the long trip home. It was like no time had passed. It has been at least six years. 

Most wings are too gummy, not cooked long enough and either drowning in hot sauce or completely dry. Johnny's Place has the most perfect wings; and one of these days when this wonderful couple retires, we're on the list for the recipe. The heat is not overwhelming, but just right and there's this spicy hint of asian sweetness to the sauce that is just amazing. Many of the Pittsburgh Steelers have signed his wall and call ahead to get their wings there too.

We sat at the bar with the girls and like old times, Johnny gave us one round on the house. Each time we have gone back over the years, it's been like visiting old friends, old friends who really know how to entertain.

 

Johnny's Place is currently for sale and there's no telling how long they'll continue to remain a glorious little spot in Oakland for wings and conversation. But as long as they're there, we're going to continue visiting.

I'll deal with the extra ab exercises that this weekend's caloric intake will require. It was so worth it. Pittsburgh, I really miss you sometimes.

Redemption, Bands and Breakfalls

For those who have been keeping vigil, wondering about the state of my back and butt, I thank you for your concern. I'm still a little sore, but I'm fine. On our last night of vacation, we went to the same restaurant. As we were ordering and I was trying to maintain proper balance on the center of my chair, a woman at the table next to us knocked her chair over and almost had a fall herself.

I call that redemption.

We wrapped up our vacation with a great last couple of days. On Thursday night, Mr. BBM and I went out to dinner by ourselves, and then went into the tavern to hear a reggae/rock band play. They were really good and we had a lot of fun (and a lot of rum). I spent a lot of time laughing at some of the locals down there who are absolutely insane.

I also invited the band to come play at a party I plan on having this summer on my new patio (once it's installed). I think they're planning on coming because as we were leaving, the guitar player gave me a high five and said, "see you at the party."

On Friday, we had a decent beach day and we spent the day building castles and having a blast. The dolphins were all over the place and my Dad spent the day kayaking around with them. Big I also took a kayak ride which ended up being much more of a ride than she bargained for. When the kayak dumped her after my dad lost his grip on the front of it, she was flipped out of the kayak and spent some time underneath it, under the water. She screamed, cried, coughed up some sea water and then told me that she had done a breakfall so that was why she was ok. Apparently, I wasn't the only one thinking about the martial arts while on vacation.

I'll be sure to post some videos and pictures, just as soon as Mr. BBM airbrushes my butt into a smaller size. Stay tuned.

Aution Ho!

Last night I convinced my parents to join us for a hibachi dinner. Our chef was hysterical. I think he said "Oh My God" and WasaBAY-BEE about 4000 times during our dinner. He also pelted my Mom in the head with carrots and peas. His aim was a little off. He also told my parents, who ordered well done steaks, that their dinner would be ready sometime tomorrow.

He called all of us "sweety-hearts" as he put our food on our plates and then would say "love you long time" and crack himself up laughing. No one really got it except for me. If you're a regular reader here, then you know about my rap music obsession. I have a strong appreciation for old school stuff. He also said I was a beautiful girl (using the tone from the Pharell/Snoop Dog song) and that Mr. BBM is a lucky man about 200 times. Clearly, I liked him a lot.

Despite how hysterically funny he was, the best moment of the night came before he arrived at our table. Big I was reaching out toward the cooking surface and we told her it was very hot and to keep her hands back.

"How do you know?" she asked.

Without missing a beat, Mr. BBM said, "Because it says 'aution ho!' right there."

Big I looked at him funny and asked what that meant.

Meanwhile, for 5 seconds after he said it and before I realized what had happened, I was thinking to myself, "Ah, 'aution ho' must be Japanese for 'Caution hot." Hmm, interesting. You learn something new every day."

And then I realized that the "c" and the "t" had just worn off. Japanese it was not.

We all spent the rest of the night telling each other "aution HO!" with emphasis on the second part, obviously. It seemed to fit well with our rap-song-singing chef.

Mermaids, Castles, and Beer Pong

At 4:30 a.m. on Saturday morning, my family and I set out for our beach week. The drive was fairly uneventful. There was one necessary stop at a shady bathroom where Lil C spent the entire time questioning me as to why I was using toilet paper to line the seat before I allowed her to sit (Yes, sometimes, I temporarily turn into my grandmother and I'm cool with that).  There were also people lined up before 9 a.m. to buy malt liquor in the store (Apparently they start early in those parts). We arrived here on the Outer Banks around noon and were able to get into our beach house earlier than usual. That's always a good thing, especially when you only get about three hours of sleep the night before.

We spent Saturday afternoon unloading the cars and settling in to the beach house. This year, we're oceanfront and we're enjoying that immensely. Yesterday, although it was cloudy much of the day and very windy, we spent the day on the beach and I wasted no time getting to work.

This year, the girls ordered a sculpted mermaid and the biggest sandcastle yet (pictures forthcoming, as soon as Mr. BBM gets his act together).

Mr. BBM made me a pile for the castle the size of a manatee, and I spent my afternoon sculpting from the top down. My dad and I decided that I need a mist bottle. These aren't your ordinary sandcastles anymore. This morning, the sculpture of the mermaid and the castle are still there and are being used as a photo backdrop for many a vacationer's picture. Big I was anxiously awaiting going down to the beach so that she could claim ownership and tell people that she helped; then my Dad broke it to her that our mermaid had been given some "plastic surgery." Two boobs turned into just one. Fantastic, and no, I don't have a picture of the new and improved.

The girls are having a great time, although Lil C has absolutely no fear which can be a bit terrifying for a parent. She's been a little cranky lately and a visit to Urgent Care this morning confirmed that she has a sinus infection. She's on antibiotics but that hasn't stopped her ornary need to sit on every sandcastle that exists on the beach.

Last night I suggested that my parents learn how to play beer pong and to our complete surprise, they agreed that it sounded like fun. We drove several miles up the beach to the K-mart so we could buy ping-pong balls. We're getting the cups today. Last night we realized we didn't have any good beer pong quality cups to play with so the game was postponed to tonight. My Dad woke up at 5 a.m. today so I'm figuring that by this evening his aim will be off and I'll be grand-champion.

Many years ago, I came home with a 4.0 GPA and my Mom was thrilled. My parents broke out a couple bottles of champagne and we drank it while playing Scrabble. At one point, my Mom announced that she was "stoned." She meant buzzed, but used the wrong word and we've never let her live it down. I'm thinking tonight, she'll be a bit stoned if the game goes on as planned.

Where NOT to Honeymoon Part II

This story is continued from a previous post. 

We awoke in the morning to more rain, but at least we could see where we were.  Our surroundings were beautiful, but that didn't change our disgust with the situation.  Mr. BBM tried to call our travel agent.  She basically told us her hands were tied.  We weren't getting in to Sandals St. Lucia anytime soon.  We decided we'd make the best of it. 

The sun began to come out.  For once the rain had stopped, so we thought we'd go play a quick set of tennis.  To get around the resort, either a golf cart or a van would come to transport you.  They dropped us off at the tennis/spa area and we started to play.  We were the only idiots stupid enough to be playing tennis instead of enjoying the spa.  But spa treatments were not covered by Sandals so we stayed away.  In retrospect, we should have gone and made them pay for it.  I'm sure we could have convinced them that we ate a sugar wrap or cucumber mask instead of bathing in it.

The air was thick with humidity and we barely made it through the set when it started to rain again.  We had no idea that they were so serious about October being part of the rainy season when we booked our honeymoon.  When we arrived back at our villa, all I wanted to do was take a shower.  I tried to run the water and nothing happened.  I tried to run the sink and nothing happened. 

The next thing we knew, there was a man knocking on our door with a large water dispenser jug of water. He explained to us that because of all the rain, the water filtration system had flooded and was contaminated.  This jug was our water for the forseeable future.  This is not what you want to be told after playing tennis is 99 degree weather on your honeymoon. 

We needed to use the water to bathe, brush our teeth, and even to flush the toilet.  This was not going to be fun.  We basically took sponge baths and then Mr. BBM assisted me with washing my hair.  We didn't want to waste too much water.  We weren't sure how much we would get or how long this would last!

We ended up needing that jug of water for just over 24 hours.  We were never so happy to see running water when it was finally fixed.  Of course, we could have just bathed outside in the rain because it rained pretty much non-stop.

Despite this, we tried to make the best of it.  We ate lavish meals that we decided to stick to Sandals.  We weren't as bad as some of the other couples who were ordering bottles of Dom to stick it to Sandals even worse.  We stayed at the Jalousie Hilton for four days and three nights. 

It was on Wednesday of our week long honeymoon that Sandals sent a boat for us.  It was faster to travel to the resort via the boat.  Unfortunately, Sandals forgot to tell us and one other couple, and we missed the boat. We had to take a van to the other side of the island. 

A driver came to pick us up and we drove up and down windy and terrifying roads.  I have never had such horrible motion sickness.  It was a scary drive I don't wish to repeat.  As we went through certain villages, the driver would instruct us to keep the doors locked, look straight ahead, etc.  It was just plain awful. 

When we finally arrived at Sandals St. Lucia, we were severely disappointed.  The brochures had obviously been airbrushed extensively and the resort was buzzing the way a fraternity party would be, not a honeymooning resort.  We were told we were given upgraded rooms, but they were directly above the DJ booth at the pool, which meant that the next morning we would be woken up to beer-chugging contests at 10 a.m.  It wasn't exactly the upgrade we were looking for.

Upon arrival we made an appointment to speak with the manager the next morning.  We were livid about our treatment and wanted some answers and payment for all of the inconveniences. 

That night, we ate dinner and then went dancing with our new friends from Boston. We had a pretty good time, but another set-back was just around the corner.

A few hours after arriving back at our room, I woke up alone in bed.  There was no noise in the room and I had no idea where Mr. BBM had gone.  I slowly crept around the room and found him in the bathroom.  He was curled around the toilet, trying to keep cool on the tile floor.  He had a fever and had apparently been sick with horrible food poisoning while I had been snoozing.  He looked green.

Mr. BBM spent the night getting sick on and off, and was too weak to make it to Sandals "orientation" and our subsequent meeting with the manager.  He told me to go.  What else was I going to do?  Sit there and watch him barf all day?  So, I went to orientation alone and was immediately singled out because I was without my husband.

"Oh, your man had too much to drink last night, huh?" the obnoxious orientation leader asked me on his microphone in front of a crowd of about 30 couples.  He was trying to embarrass me as he jutted the microphone out at me.  I doubt he expected me to grab the microphone with such force.

"No, actually my husband is currently curled around the toilet not knowing which end of his body to put over the toilet because he got food poisoning shortly after eating at one of your crappy restaurants."

That shut him up.

I stormed across the resort to the manager's office.  The other forgotten couple and I sat there shooting visual daggers at the manager.  His apology was not forthcoming and his only answer to our troubles was to offer us three free nights at the same crappy airbrushed resort, provided we pay for a total of seven nights and our own airfare.  We all told him where he could stick that invitation and left.  We obviously weren't getting anywhere with him.

Our next visit was to the resort nurse, who gave Mr. BBM something that finally calmed his digestive tract down enough to function outside the bathroom.  He spent all of Thursday and Friday feeling horrible, weak and still slightly nauseous.

On one of the evenings, we managed to get into the french restaurant on site.  Most of the restaurants were booked solid since the people who had arrived earlier in the week booked up all the reservations.  We were mostly stuck with the dregs. 

We expected the french restaurant to be romantic and wonderful.  It was anything but.  Tables were stacked close enough that I had to watch my elbows when I ate.  There was no privacy, no romance, only more disappointment and girls who appeared to be wearing prom gowns. It was like being stuck in a bad movie.

There were beer chugging contests at the break of dawn, dumpsters strewn about the property and the private beaches were anything but private.  You had to be careful because there were people begging for money all over the beach.  The beautiful hillside of the brochure was more like a mirage created by the artist who airbrushed it.  It was anything but a relaxing honeymoon.

On our final day, we finally had a little bit of sun.  I convinced Mr. BBM to take a kayak out into the Caribbean with me.  He was still feeling sick.  We rowed our kayak out into the sea.  It was beautiful, but as we got out as far as we were comfortable going, the water got dark as did the clouds.  And just like that, we were in the middle of a torrential downpour.  We rowed back to shore, convinced that we had a big bad cloud following us everywhere we went.

When our plane touched down in our hometown, we were thrilled.  I've never been so excited to go home.  It was truly the honeymoon from hell. 

    

The Beach in Review

Disclaimer: I am distinctly aware that there are more pictures of Lil C than there are of Big I in this post.  That is because a certain 7-year old decided she'd like to try on the attitude of a pesky 14-year old while on vacation, whenever the mood moved her.  Please don't tell me, because I am already well aware, that I am in for it, that this is revenge for being a boy-crazy-nasty-14-year old myself at one point in my life. I get it.  Just view the pictures and move on.  No lectures are necessary.  I have already consulted a locksmith to make sure she remains locked in her room indefinitely when she hits those teenage years.  The proof of the 'tude is in this picture. View with caution. Her glare can cause premature death. . .

Actually, this glare is probably more because a certain Mommy was a little bit obsessed with the sandcastle and gave Big I a designated "spot" to work on that did not infringe on my space or my Corona Lite.

We did get some smiles out of her. We just had to promise her things like ice cream and fairies to do so. . .

Then there's Lil C, who wanted to "surf" with Daddy and enjoyed every waking moment at the beach. . .

Non-awake moments too (Can I tell you how much I love the beach and the naps that it brings?):

Here, I'll prove it:

What could possibly be better than a little one napping on your lap at the beach?

O.k., besides sister's actually getting along for a brief moment.  Ah. . . that's pretty nice too.

The only picture of me not in my swimsuit the entire week (hating Mr. BBM for this because I highly prefer more covered up viewings of the bod that is BBM):

Completely pooped out after a rough night of miniature golf:

And another night of golf. . . She's a Tigress I tell you:

An adorable moment between a Pop-Pop and a grand-daughter. . .

While Mommy looks on with sangria in hand (are you sensing a sangria related theme to BBM Summer 2008?) . . .

The most fantastic sand castle ever built (notice the initials). . .

And more of my sandcastle because it's just. that. good (pictures totally don't do it justice either). . .

A satisfied BBM taking a brief break to watch the waves, after creating yet another masterpiece (the third of the week-quite relaxing because building them was kind of like meditation or something). . .

My parents, who upon discovering this picture is on my blog (4 years from now when they actually read it), will say "I look fat" and "My hair looks horrible" respectively. . .

Lil C doing an impersonation of Mr. BBM (Yes, it resulted in broken sunglasses.  It was worth it.). . .

My Dad catching a wave. . .

And almost getting dumped by it. . .

My Dad helping Big I and Lil C touch sting rays:

And me helping Lil C touch a sea star (she's smiling because I was talking in her ear like Patrick from Sponge Bob). . .

I'm not sure why I included this picture except to say "For me to poop on. . . "  I've obviously been watching entirely too much Conan O'Brien.  Oh, and birds like to poop on me. . . a lot.

Big I scaling the high wall, while Mommy shakes on with fear:

My favorite picture of the week. . .

It was an all-around fabulous vacation.

***There are new reviews up at The BBM Review.  If you're looking for a new deadbolt or new sparring shoes, you won't want to miss the latest and greatest.  The BBM Review was just nominated for a Blogger's Choice Award for "Best Blog About Stuff" so please click on over and vote for us!  We certainly appreciate the nomination and any votes we get!  Thanks especially to Becky for the nomination!!!

    

                  

Are you bored yet?

I know you're probably completely bored with my vacation posts and pictures; but, if you go here and check out my scrapblog of some of my vacation pictures (more pictures to come), I'll get entered for a free trip to BlogHer '07 where I can go represent for all the karate bloggers out there. 

What?  You're still here.  Go (pretty please)! 

Back-In need of another vacation

Coming back from vacation is rough.  There are the mounds of sand covered laundry, the unpacking of all the other stuff, reacclimating the munchkins to a decent bedtime, and coming back to realize that your next few weeks are going to be killer.

Big I auditioned for a play and now has 12 hours of play practice every week until the play is over.  Not only that, but parents are put to work while there.  Tonight, I was the green paint lady, while Big I tried to catch up from all the practices she's missed so far.  By the end of the three hours, we were both yawning something fierce. 

I also have to deal with the fact that I need to get back into a karate training routine.  I had these grand delusions of kata on the beach and practicing with my weapons, but the truth is (sigh) that being on vacation with two kids is hard work.  I think I finally understand why many of my friends leave their kids behind and go vacationing by themselves. 

As much as I wanted to take my sai out onto the beach, I was feeling a bit too self-conscious to ultimately go through with it and practice some of those throws.  There's also the fact that the Outer Banks beaches have lots of little crabs scurrying around, digging holes in the sand, and I really didn't want to have to explain a crab shish-ka-bob to Big I.  That's my excuse du jour anyway. 

I did do pilates twice and I also took a run on the beach. . . once.  I know, pathetic right?  But I can only take so much of feeling like someone just set fire to my lungs on vacation.  Instead I chose to read almost three books and sip some Corona's.

So I took a little break from training; but I'll get back at it. . . as soon as I vacuum up all this sand and put away the 2000 pieces of clothing I took along on vacation.

To all of you who contacted me with your words of support over my little "troll" problem last week, I can't tell you how much I appreciate your kind words and offers to help.  If you don't know what I'm talking about, you're better off. . . trust me.  ;-)  If you do, you know who you are, and thank you!

Karate Rolls equal Vacation Fun

So you know that tennis match I referred to last time?  The one where I was going to be taking someone "down in flames"?  Well, the only person who went down was me. 

I'm blaming it on the little hole in the court which was placed right where someone attempting to return a serve might step.  I stepped in the hole, my left ankle rolled and the rest of my body went along for the ride.  It was an absolutely fabulous karate roll, lemme just tell you.

In fact, it was so good that instead of cracking up laughing at me like I would have done had the shoe been on the other foot, Mr. BBM came running from the other side of the court to make sure I was o.k. before erupting in laughter.  And yes, it happened right as the resort bus pulled in with a crap-load of beach-goers from the bay side. 

Fab-U-LOUS.

I spent the next two days feeling like I had whiplash and cursing my 30-something year old body because "if I was a kid I'd be just fine!".  To heal my bruised ego, I spent the rest of the afternoon having a "funny face contest" with Big I.  I think I won.  I only picked one of the pictures to display because I had no idea how capable I was of contorting my face into. . . well, a whole lot of wrinkles!

If I was a kid, I also would have believed that this dude is indeed Jack Sparrow, as advertised. 

I was sort of hoping for a younger hotter replica, but when a pirate DJ shows up with hula-hoops, the kids aren't complaining. 

When I wasn't complaining about how bad my neck hurts, we took the whole crew and went kayaking over in the bay.  The bay here is pretty cool.  You can actually walk across the entire bay (if your idea of a good time is feeling the constant sting of jellyfish).  But it was a cool day on the beach, and the bay felt much warmer so we took the girls for some kayak rides.

Lil C went out for about two minutes before she decided she was just too far from "MOMMY!!!!" and stood up threatening to abandon ship.  Big I went out for a while and had a great time. 

My Mom and I also took the kayak out without kids (after I got Mr. BBM to carry me out to get in the kayak since I am so done with being stung by jellyfish after a short stint with wind surfing a few years ago).  My Mom and I paddled around for a while, took some pictures of wild life, dreamed about having a home on the bay, and then decided we'd head towards the "rapids." 

I don't know the last time you've been around rapids in the middle of a bay, but we were exposed to the sun and. . . whatever, they were rapids.  So, we paddled in their direction and then quickly realized that those "rapids" were actually the quickened pace and ripples of the water over a sand bar.  We were stuck in about four inches of water. 

Logic tells you that you're going to be o.k. when you're stuck in the middle of a bay that you can walk across.  But my Mom and I threw logic to the wind and panicked because being beached in the middle of the bay, meant one of us was going to have to. . . gasp!!!. . . get out of the kayak and get us unstuck. 

I stepped up, because she's my Mom after all and I got us unstuck in a matter of moments.  I also managed to avoid the dreaded jellyfish.  I'm sure we also provided some entertainment for the golfers nearby as I must have looked like I was walking on water to free us while looking like a complete loon as I high-stepped and scanned the water for any "predators."  It was quite an adventure. 

In other news, Big I has become a master boogie boarder.  (It could be because of her brand new beach braid.) 

She picked a black board with a pirate skull on it and took to the water like the Black Pearl in the pirate movie.  At one point, she got dumped and went for a bit of a karate roll herself.  Hers, however, was much more eventful than my little tumble. 

While under the ocean water, she saw, and I quote "a mermaid, a lobster, an octopus and a shark."  Holy crap!  If that's not enough to make you stick to the shoreline, I don't know what is!  And that's just what I have done. 

I finished reading Living the Martial Way and started on another book that I'm already half way through. And Mr. BBM bought me some sunscreen that goes on like stale Crisco which has been able to fend off another sunburn and then some.

Lil C has learned a ton of new words this week.  She is seeing sharks everywhere including at the pizza place where we ate tonight.  Apparently, there was a little something extra in those mushrooms on the pizza.  She's also quick to tell you that sharks bite, and then launches into her repertoire of animal sounds that always entertains surrounding tables and waiters. 

Lil C has cooled off on her love of seagulls.  The damn things are just too hard to catch.  Oh, and one pooped on her Mom-Mom's umbrella while she was under it, so I think she gets the picture.  She's cursed like her mama. 

She also breaks out in Rhiannon's umbrella song every time someone refers to the beach umbrella, as in "Mr. BBM, I think this umbrella is going to launch," to which she responds with "ella, eh, eh, eh."  It's really quite cool that my kids are learning hip-hop music.  Imagination Movers?  Pshaw!  What-evah!  She steals my sunglasses frequently to really add some style to her Rhiannon rendition. And despite the fact that multiple attempts by Mr. BBM to stretch those suckers out didn't work, Lil C had absolutely no problem stretching them out to fit a head of Ben Affleck sized proportions. 

Tomorrow it's more of the same. . . Big I and Mr. BBM boogie boarding while I scan for sharks intermittently between page turns.  Meanwhile, Lil C will be pointing out at the sea and sending most the beach running as she matter-of-factly states: "SHARK!  BITE!!!" 

. . . and spends the rest of the day lounging around in peace. 

 

SPF Failure and other Vacation Adventures

You can forget the black belt; just call me "Red Backed Mama" from now on.  It will take at least a week for the fluorescent red to fade.  In the meantime, if you need a cool light for a party or something, or perhaps a flashing traffic light?  My back is for hire. 

It's not like I wasn't careful.  I sprayed SPF 30 on my back and then what I think happened is, my hair quickly wiped all the SPF action away. 

Of course, building a huge sand castle for like two hours and facing my back in the same direction towards the sun probably didn't help things.  I'd like to also mention that both children could have cared less about said sand castle. . . but when I start something, I finish it damn it.  So I went at that mound of sand with gusto until I was shaky from lack of food. 

When I returned to the beach after eating lunch, the tide had come in but my castle was sort of holding its own. . . right up until some bratty boy jumped all over it.  Like any good martial artist will do, I practiced restraint.  I had to after all, because Lil C took off at warp speed after yet another seagull, my favorite animal ever.  Right. 

After getting Lil C occupied with putting sand in her hair and down her swimsuit, my Dad and I took Big I out in my dad's ocean kayak.  He held the back; I held the front and Big I got the ride of her life while my Dad and I got a workout (and a few shin and knee bruises).   

While the kayak slammed into my shins and the waves threatened to take me and my swimsuit for a whirl, Mr. BBM snapped away with his camera.

 

Afterward, Mr. BBM was quite proud of his photographic skills.  All I saw was a Black Belt Mama butt that was:
A. Too large
B. Too white
C. Too disproportionate with the rest of my body
D. All of the above. 

Hmm, let me think. . . I'm going with. . . D.  Regardless of me and my butt issues, Big I had a blast. 

Lil C hasn't been left out of the fun this week either.  At the aquarium, she made fast friends with fish, turtles, otters, and a couple sharks who were eyeing her up.  Video of her chasing seagulls may be forthcoming if I can figure out how to do that. 

At Cape Hatteras, Big I and Mr. BBM climbed up to the top of the lighthouse (equivalent to a 12-story building) while Lil C and I stayed safely on the ground.

Back that thing up child!  It's so good I wasn't up there because she would have had all body parts touching the outside of the building.  Standing at the railing???? I think NOT!

 

Two of those little specks down there are Lil C and me. 

And now, I'm about to go show Mr. BBM what's up in a spirited game of tennis.  The last time I played singles with him, I was about 6 months pregnant and I gave up after a good fight.  I'm thinking he's going down in flames. 

Red Backed Mama. . . out. 

Ahhh. . .

I have arrived. . .

My family and I are on vacation this week in the lovely Outer Banks of North Carolina.  We rented a new house this year, one with a pool and hot tub and it is just. . . well. . . ahhh. . .

We arrived here today after visiting some good friends in Dover, DE for the weekend.  The drive was rather uneventful, just the way I like it.  Of course, I did knowingly allow the girls to eat about 4000 M&M's during the drive, but the way I see it?  It was all to secure my sanity. 

Sanity is good. 

I arrived here only hours ago, but I've already done my pilates and practiced my sai kata's.  Yes, I managed to sneak my sai, nunchaku, and tunfa into my suitcase.  Insert big eye roll from Mr. BBM here.  Some may use the table in the bedroom for sunscreen.  Mine is for my stash of weapons.  It makes me cool. . . obsessive but cool. 

I just couldn't imagine not being able to practice with them for two weeks after I've been working so hard to get in good shape and make sure the kata's and all their parts are in there.  And who wouldn't jump at an opportunity to take a set of sai out on the beach and actually be able to do the throw into the sand???

Mr. BBM says I'm a dork.  I say, I'm not the one who has memorized 4,278 useless facts about Star Wars, so there. 

If you've been a reader here for a while now, you know that last year's vacation was quite eventful and not in the good way.  I'm looking forward to having a very uneventful week; and I'll be sure to bore you to tears with it if I can manage to put my lime and beer down and drag my derriere out of the hot tub for more than a few minutes at a time.

Oh, and if you happen to be in the Outer Banks right now and you see a crazy blonde chick doing kata in a swimsuit. . . yeah, that's probably me.   And no, there will not be pictures documenting such an event, so don't even bother asking.