Thoughts of Spring Break always conjure up images of sun and sand, drinks and tans, but this year was different, for Spring Break we went to a place where the daytime temperatures were colder than the nighttime temperatures in our home town of Albuquerque, New Mexico. No bathing suits, suntan lotion and fruity drinks for me (okay, some fruity drinks), we had business to take care of. My Father-in-law’s only request upon his death was to be buried in South Dakota in his family’s plot. So, with turtlenecks, hats and gloves packed, we headed north for Spring Break!
The last time we were with my husband Alan’s extended family was in 2010 in Santa Barbara, California for his cousin’s wedding. A very different occasion, there was sand, bathing suits and drinks, although not much sun, but enough to use the pool at the hotel.
I had just had Azul a couple of years prior and was not quite ready to let go of my maternity bathing suit, no matter how hideous it was, until the Santa Barbara trip. My new J Crew suit was awesome, a conservative cocoa color, one piece with a halter strap that fit tightly around the back of my neck. Although the neck line was not revealing, the halter strap made me much more comfortable. In addition to a new baby and a new suit, I had a new figure as well. Things were a little bigger than they used to be thanks to breast-feeding and the expansion of my pelvic bone, preparing for child-birth. But I was ready.
Jim, my father in-law, had flown to Albuquerque from Washington D.C., stayed a few days and then the four of us continued west to California. Most of the family stayed at the same hotel which was nice for family time, we don’t see everyone very often and this was the first time they would meet Azul.
One afternoon Jim, Alan, Azul and I went down to the pool. On the way we ran into the groom of the upcoming wedding, so he joined us as well. There was a lot going on, we were swimming and hot tubbing all while chit-chatting with Jim and company. In true fashion, my Father-in-law was able to read the newspaper at the table near the pool and talk at the same time.
Azul and Alan were sitting on the side of the hot tub and I decided to dive into the pool. Flawlessly I dove in, the coolness of the pool was exhilarating, and when I surfaced facing Alan’s family, I could feel the cold ocean breeze on my chest. Ahh. Then I realized, I felt it a little too much. I looked down and to my horror, although my halter strap was firmly in place, the front of my suit had slipped down below my breasts. I immediately covered myself and looked up to where my audience sat and they looked away. I don’t know how much they saw, I’m assuming everything, but they were perfect gentlemen and never spoke a word of it.
Soon more family joined us at the pool and we all moved on from the incident.
With much comfort this year, I was looking forward to greeting everyone in a Turtleneck sweater.
This weekend Azul and I decided it was time to deflate the blow-up pool we had set up in the back yard all summer. Now, if there is a secret on how to do this, please don’t tell me, because I don’t want to feel stupid. This is how it went down — first we opened the little blow holes (you know the ones you put the air compressor in to blow up the thing in the first place) and we sat on the pool to force the air out, that didn’t work. The air wasn’t coming out and we both just rolled off laughing. Next we decided to stick our fingers in the holes while we were sitting on it, so the air could escape, and when I say “we” I mean “me” because I am obviously the adult and the one making the decisions. Now, if you have never had to stick your finger in a hole, I’m telling you, you have got to get it just right for it to work! I’m on one side fingers engaged, while Azul is on the other trying to jump on the pool, but just getting bounced right off. Then he tried to jump on my side and it was like playing teeter-totter by yourself, with the far side in the air. Mind you, we’re an hour in, we can’t stop laughing and are getting nowhere fast. But, my Starbuck and I were not about to turn back or be outdone; we conquered our Moby-Dick, albeit with sore bellies from laughing so hard, and put him away, at least until next year.