By its very nature, having a child in general and being a stay at home mommy in particular thrusts one into a whole other world of activities that the other folks (such as those who enjoy perusing the Sunday newspaper while sitting on their veranda and sipping a latte in peace) simply aren't involved. In an effort to keep our kiddos occupied and our days moving, we  mommies know where the best playgrounds are, what special exhibits are happening at the Children's Museum, and when the pool is the least brat-packed. Additionally, for many a mom, annual memberships to the Aquarium or the Butterfly Pavilion or the Zoo just seem to go with the territory. Not, however, for this mom. Let me not beat around the bush on this one: I don't really like animals. There. I said it. So sue me.
As a child, I attended countless circuses, took more than a couple trips to the zoo, visited a petting farm or two, and made several visits to science museums. As a nanny, I revisited all these same places-except fortunately this time I was getting paid. And, never, as a child nor as an adult, did I really enjoy these experiences. Maybe I am missing the gene that leads one to get all smiley at the sight of a barrage of elephants lining up tail to trunk. Perhaps I am heartless for not oooohing and aaaaahing at the sight of a tiny baby goat being fed by a baby bottle. I do know that as a result of a nearly debilitating phobia of snakes, the idea of entering any sort of indoor facility that may have glass enclosures makes me just plain nauseous. (Why is it that EVERY such facility has to have a snake? What role, exactly, does a boa constrictor have in an aquarium?)
So, when I became a mommy, I decided that I would take my child to the zoo when she was old enough to know what it was and ask to go. This lead me to turn down many 'play dates' with other moms who were getting the most use out of their zoo memberships. I did break down and go to both the Aquarium and the Butterfly Pavilion with the same friend but only because I was too embarrassed to tell her that I don't do that sort of thing.
Being true to my word, as soon as Carter heard about her little friends' zoo trips and asked to go, too, I did what any good mother would do: I had my mom take her. She had a ball; though, in reality, she was definitely the most excited about the cotton candy (as was I since she brought me a souvenir!) Then, about two weeks ago on what was quite possibly the hottest day of the summer to that point, I succumbed to the peer pressure of a favorite new friend (who happened to have free guest passes with her annual membership) and went to the zoo. Additionally, my Charlotte girls were visiting; they thought it sounded fun; and I always strive to be a good hostess.
I wish I could say that the experience of seeing my little one's face mesmerized at the site of flamingos and monkeys changed my opinion of zoos and the like; but, in fact, it did not. While at the zoo, I actually envisioned myself running through the exhibits trampling over people and animals using my double stroller as a bulldozer. When my mommy friend, asked me which path I'd like to take, I answered, 'Whatever's fastest.' I was able to feign enthusiasm when looking at the animals with Carter, but inside all I wanted to do was get to that darn cotton candy and shove it in my mouth while driving home in my air conditioned SUV!
So, should you invite me and my darlings to join you and yours on a trip to an animal-related play-date, don't be offended if I make up a silly excuse to politely decline. I'd love to join you for a stroll around the park or a lunch picnic or a pool day. But, when it comes to lions and tigers and bears, I really just don't care!

Lessons Learned in Paradise

Memorial Day is often considered the official kick-off to summer, and Hubby and I took that kick-off quite seriously by heading to Hawaii over Memorial Day weekend. We spent a week celebrating our fifth wedding anniversary by taking a vacation, sans kiddos, to the Four Seasons on the Big Island . I could blog on and on about what an amazing trip we had, how wonderful it was to travel without children, how refreshing it felt to sleep until our hearts' content each day and nap at random, how splendid the perfect temperatures were, how gorgeous the resort was, and how tasty the food (and beverages) were. But, rather than creating feelings of envy in the minds of my readers, I'll just share with you a few lessons that we learned on the trip.
Lesson # 1... when your server walks up to your breakfast table and says, 'Would you like to try our fresh-squeezed juice of the day? It's a watermelon and apple combination.' What she means is, 'Would you like to pay $16 for two small glasses of juice?'

At breakfast on day one, still blissfully unaware

of the staggering cost of those pretty glasses of juice.

Lesson #2... placing a couple of Ambien that you intend to take before getting on the red-eye flight home in the same bottle as your daily medication is not a good idea. Mistakenly ingesting said-Ambien before embarking on a  40 mile car trip to a full day zip-lining excursion is an even worse idea and may lead your wife to want to murder you as you experience Ambien-induced psychosis. There's a reason you are supposed to go to sleep after taking those things!

My not-so-fresh-face hubby

after his pharmaceutical mishap. 

Lesson #3... despite having never taken a full week's vacation, the week will pass far too quickly. No matter how hard you try to savor each day, each hour, each moment, you will still look up and wonder where the time went. Before you know it, you will be hit in the face with reality. In the real world there are jobs to do, appointments to keep, chores to do, lawns to mow, clothes to wash, and schedules to maintain.

Our final hours in paradise.

So, cherish this time, soak up the memories, but also remember that it is this love that you have for your one and only that created this life that awaits you. A whole summer lies ahead with babies to snuggle, stories to read, games to play, trips to take, and even greater memories to make.