Sheesh. You know what’s hard to do with a baby in the house? Write, that’s what. I keep thinking of things to blog about, but invariably I think of them at three o’clock in the morning while I’m trying to avoid falling asleep in the rocking chair. I signed up with my writing coach to do a memoir class, and I have no idea how I’m going to muster up the brainpower I need for actual serious writing.
So, vacation! We went on vacation.
It was very, very good.
For all my planning and list-making and worrying about the logistics of travelling with a three and a half month old, it was fine. Great, even. Moose travels well! Or possibly, she’s been protesting our Canadian winter this whole time and is just a more relaxed baby in Mexico. I don’t blame her.
This was only the second time I’ve ever been to an all-inclusive, and Lauren and I were positively giddy about the lack of cooking or cleaning to do. The resort was very family friendly – lots of shady areas, stroller-friendly walking paths, and best of all, take-out containers available at every single (excellent, varied, gluten-free friendly) buffet. Lauren and I managed more meals together in a week than we’ve had in total since Moose was born.
This was our first time travelling as a family, and so we also had some of our first experiences explaining our family to the outside world. I was so prepared to be challenged at the border, armed with copies of Moose’s long form birth certificate along with her passport (we are fortunate enough to live in a province where we are both named as parents with no extra legal maneuvers), but customs was fine. I was less prepared for all of the well-meaning resort staff and fellow travellers. “Who’s Mommy?” “Is she yours?” “Where’s the papa?” “Is Daddy at home?” – now, while she’s still so little, it occurs to me that we’re going to have to figure out how we’re handling this before she’s old enough to understand what we’re saying. It’s easier to gloss it over, particularly when you know it’s a frame-of-reference issue, but that won’t work forever. I did entertain myself quite a bit imagining responses to the many dad questions… “The mid-western United States, we think,” “Damned if I know,” “Oh, B4133? No idea.”
Moose is an avid people-watcher and made friends everywhere we went. This was also Moose’s first experience with a forward facing stroller! She seemed a bit stunned.
It was a lovely break, exactly what we needed.