It’s been two months since my last post, and that is because I’m a selfish jerk. And I’m sure you’re saying, “But Heather. Nobody cares if you write in this or not, so if you choose not to, it’s not really hurting anyone but yourself.” First of all – how dare you?! Secondly – you’re so off base. I have tens of readers who look at this thing and to them, I apologize.
So, since last writing, I made the four hour trek across New York State to Rochester, to meet my precious, little Lemon and, let me tell ya, it was worth the eight hours in the car. She is so precious. Allee and Ryan selflessly let me snuggle her the whole time I was there (With the exception of one time when she started fussing. I handed her off to her Daddy and, within minutes, poop exploded out of her diaper. So, at least I know they’re teaching her manners over there, because she didn’t want to defecate on her guest.) I have taken to showing her off as if she is my own. Whenever Allee posts or sends a pic, I demand that everyone around me ooo and aahh over it. We plan on going back out in a couple of weeks, to help Caroline celebrate her first Christmas. I’m counting down the days.
In October, Jason and I also took a very low-key trip to this little place you may have heard of – Aruba. “But Heather, you guys just went on your honeymoon! Did you suddenly turn into rich jet-setters?” you ask. Rich – no. But jet-setters? Apparently. We were lucky enough to receive an all-expenses paid trip to the Riu Palace all-inclusive resort in Aruba. If we DID have to pay, it would have been worth every penny. Any place that gives me a rum punch cocktail minutes after I walk in the door can have all my moneys.
I know you must be thinking (Do you like how I’m doing your commentary? ‘Cause I do.) “Wow, Aruba, huh? It must have been gorgeous there. I bet you woke up, ate a delicious breakfast buffet, went to the beach where you started drinking frozen margaritas at 10:00, stayed there until 1ish, when you moved to the pool which is closer to a bar. Then, I bet you grabbed something else to eat, went inside to get out of the gorgeous sun for a bit, then came back out a couple hours later and did it all over again. I bet you saw amazing, romantic sunsets – both on the beach and from your room balcony. And, I bet when you were watching the World Series in the resort’s Sports Bar, you drank rum punch and helped yourself at the make-your-own-nachos bar. And, I bet you did that every day, for five days.” Wow. You are spot on. One thing you left out, though, was the horrible, worst-I-ever-had case of food poisoning I came down with the night before/day we left.
I’m hoping I never again have the privilege of spending an hour in customs and flying on an international flight while throwing up approximately every thirty minutes. If I ever DO have to do that again, I hope that we don’t land in Philly in the middle of a hurricane, and watch as our flight goes from On-Time to Cancelled.
But that’s a blog for a different day.