MEXICO AND BACK

To put it simply, Mexico was AMAZING. Taking Cammy was the best decision and he loved it as much as we did. I'm so grateful he's such a chill kid (for now at least). The food, the sea, the drinks, the naps, all of it was truly breathtaking. But it's really good to be back, and we're not without grateful hearts to have made it back alive... You see, a few days ago a black cat crossed our path as we made our leisurely stroll back from lunch at the beach bar. Joking, we both said out loud to each other "oh shit...ha"

Well. Oh shit was right. Camden has a few bumps and bruises from an onslaught of minor accidents, sending me into a panicked frenzy of thoughts of subarachnoid hemorrhage & the sort. Camden & I also both caught horrific colds as I sit here still questioning Ebola. Chris & I almost filed for divorce. We got charged for a late return of a golf cart when it wasn't even late. Chris lost his big toe in an iguana accident. Camden pood on me on the plane home (as well as himself). Like, a lot. Luckily he had a change of clothes. I had no such luck. So I had the joy of romping through customs & border patrol for an hour smelling like a used donkey. Only after I spent 20 minutes cleaning him up in impossibly tight quarters in the plane bathroom. I think I scared a few flight attendants out of ever considering making their own offspring. Turbulence was terrifying. Plus at least a dozen other minor freak things we all chalked up to that damn cat.

Chris didn't really lose a toe btw. But it was a close call.

And that's a huge ass funnel cloud eclipsing my island sunset.

All in all, it was the most amazing trip that was so close to being destroyed by one tiny feral feline. It was so bad for a moment that I was actually fearing our plane ride home (I have NEVER paid such close attention to the emergency procedure speech as I planned my evacuation route and how to actually engage a flotation device). I thought this was seriously it you guys.

I asked someone if they knew how to reverse bad luck, as I sat fearing my death. The answer brought me down from my internal panic attack. They said, "aw, how can your luck be bad? You have a beautiful family, a happy/healthy beautiful son, and you're smiling." Instantly I thought about the poverty present throughout the streets we paraded through like idiotic tourists. We always take the daily stock of candy, chips and soda from the room's kitchen and give to the kids we see playing in the streets. It's like Christmas to them. They're so happy and grateful for a cold soda. A soda. It just blows me away every time how much we all take for granted.

It put things back into perspective, & right there it was as if I could feel the spell was lifted. We then had a nice flight home (minus the poo/horrific turbulence/missing our shuttle/by nice I mean we're alive). But we made it. And I'm using this experience as a wake up call. It's time to be grateful for what God has given us. No matter how many times I may get pood on. Oh my GAWD I'm kidding, that was seriously soooo awful.

But the other days were awesome. And it was really hard to leave.