Surfing USA - Wow am I Old!

Well, we did it. We went surfing. It was awesome. Jason and I tag team parented with the kids. I went for the first 2 hours, then with a totally cool high five... we traded boards/kids.

Please note, that is Jason in the photo... and yes, he is inches from the snorkeling dude... and the snorkeling dude just barely ducks out of your way... secretly hoping you are about to lose your wedding band because just under the surface he is wielding a metal detector that has detected him almost 200 wedding rings in the last 2 years!!

I admit, I felt very old/flabby/boring/uncool when I showed up for my lesson. I was extremely nervous when my lesson partner showed up... a 56 year old balding dude named "Dave" from Oklahoma. Does Oklahoma even have an ocean? I was extremely worried the old guy would be better than me, with his pasty skin and his extremely dense chest hair. Happily, I was able to hold my own for the duration of the class.

My instructor, "Dylan" referred to me as "Brrraoo" (you know, "Bro" or "Brother"). I wasn't sure whether to be flattered or insulted, but eventually I realized he was just unable to retain my name in his mind. Nevertheless, I did enjoy his truly easygoing surfer style. I tried not to correct him when I would return to him after a failed surf attempt and he would say... "Whoa Brraooo, that ride was totally wicked!! Totally better than the one before". Like, Hello, I did not even stand up that time... I just paddled, missed the wave, and came back. Don't get me wrong, I really like my instructor, he was a stereotypical surfer dude and I appreciated his ongoing praise of my skills. A girl likes flattery... ALWAYS.

Needless to say, the area we surfed in was extremely rocky/corally (probably not a word... but you get the picture) and SHALLOW. It was also extremely busy and we were attempting to surf next to about 30 other newbie with instructors. Several times we would literally play bumper boards... at one point, a teenage girl actually had her hands touching down on my board while still standing on hers and I was doing my best not to totally wipe out and take the both of us out (ha ha, I think I am finally using that term in its original form).
 
Those lessons were a couple days ago, but my carefully aged to perfection body has informed me that throwing myself into a surfing lessons, and reliving my lifeguarding days is no longer a valid option. Don't get me wrong, I still have some muscles in my body, and every one of them has been screaming at me since Monday morning. In fact, my shoulders were aching so much on Tuesday morning, I almost couldn't get Cecilia out of the playpen in the morning.

Since the lesson, we have been taking it easy with fun days on the beach, playing in the condo pool,  and zipping up the coast for some sightseeing. Hoping to rent a board and get out again soon. In the meantime, a pic of Jason proving that Crossfit does keep you nimble enough to throw your 3 year old in the air after surfing lessons,   and a gratuitous shot of the my little Monkey, who learned how to climb onto the pool chair and open the Camera bag while I am photographing to other two...

"Look what I found Mama - is this important or breakable?"

Of Craters and Keychains

One of the premiere activities on Maui, the Haleakala Crater sunrise has been toted to be one of the top things to do on the island.

Jason and I roused the children at 3:30am to pack up and drive the crazy switchback road in the pitch dark to see the 6:09am sunrise. Well, we were only off on our timing by about 9 minutes. No matter how much you try,  between the elevation gain, the crazy drop offs on the side of the road, and the 180 degree turns, you just can't go any faster.

Nevertheless, by inappropriately parking in the No Parking Zone... quickly throwing the extra layers on the kids, we were able to dash to the crater face to view the sun making its first peek through the clouds in a truly biblical fashion. We made it!!

A quick trip to the loo and the car and we were going to head off on a hike with the kids to view the islands and check out all the interesting sights and enjoy the splendour of the volcano.

In the 50 meters between the bathroom and the car, I lost the keys. Really. I did it. It was all me. I had them... and then they were gone.

Common theory is that I flushed them down the toilet, but I want to continue to believe that someone picked them up and did something with them. Anyway, after an hour of searching everywhere (and ignoring the breathtaking vista)... we finally called the Car Rental dude and he offered to bring us a spare key (begrudgingly I am sure... this drive is not one executed by locals that often). And to boot, there was a bike race going on up the highway... which drastically slowed down what could be already deemed a slog up the hill.

Needless to say, we enjoyed the views of the Haleakala Crater for a total of 7 hours... with two kids and two adults and 4 croissants and a baggy full of macadamia nuts. Oh, and they don't sell food at the top of the mountain.

Well, with my tail between my legs, I have professed to have flushed the keys. Not sure how I did it, but I am still hoping the keys will turn up at some point just to prove that I am not as clumsy as that.

Happily, we acquired many photos of one of the most beautiful places on earth... Enjoy.

Parents to Sherpas to Beach Bums

Let me speak frankly.

Traveling with children leaves a little something to be desired.

Gone are the days of hopping on an airplane and enjoying the opportunity to doze ad hoc... to comfortably sip a beverage of my choosing... to watch mindless television on a tiny screen.

Instead, all efforts to get myself, my husband and my baggage... no wait, I mean... CHILDREN (and then baggage) onto the plane, feels hasty, nerve wracking, and cumbersome. There is nothing smooth or awe inspiring about it; just my husband and I loaded up like poorly trained sherpas who have clearly brought too much stuff, and allowed novices (aka the kids) to attempt the proverbial climb.

Either way, traveling with a 3.5 year old and a 10 month old is a lot like traveling with... well, a 3.5 year old and a 10 month old. I can't complain. However, please note that Gravol does not work on all children... and babies who don't get their own seats only want to sleep when their "person"al pillow is in the most cramped and uncomfortable position of all time.

Fast forward to the good parts (where I shall skip the chaos of acquiring our condo key... and the first night where we only had 4 hours of sleep)... we are taking every advantage of the most beautiful heat and sunshine on earth.

Our Sherpa powers have been further put to the test with our daily trips to the beach (when in Maui right?) Laden to the nostrils with beach gear and blankets, towels and toys, sunblock and sunhats, we elegantly trudge our way across beautiful sandy beaches to the location of choice to sunbathe, sandcastle (that's right, just turned a noun into a verb), snorkel and soak in the rays.
Interesting point of note, although we almost arrive with 2 bags of stuff, our departure from our day at the beach results in having nothing in the bags... and every little item being somehow carried in our hands. The bags are meanwhile just as heavy as when we started... simply because they are entirely filled with sand. I wonder if that happens to real sherpas?

Well, all joking aside, this time with our family has been nothing but fun and joy. My kids are still adorable and my husband looks like a superhero in a swimsuit!!

Bring on the sunshine.

Maternity Leave... It's a Vacation Right?

I started 2009 with a bang. I gave birth to my first daughter, Calla at 2:30 in the afternoon on New Year's Day. The ongoing joke for me as a new mom was that Maternity Leave was going to be like a year long vacation.

Ha. 

Well... the body forgets pain and the mind forgets crying babies... needless to say, our second beautiful girl came into the family picture in October 2011. The somewhat traumatic arrival of Cecilia Grace marked the beginning of yet another year long vacation in the throes of parenting a newborn.

Well, 9 months has passed since she has "graced" our home, and I decided it was high time to put this one year vacation theory to good use. It has taken a little while to get the whole thing rolling, but needless to say, the vacation has arrived. In less than one week, we will be boarding a plane, children and all, and heading to Hawaii to finish off my Maternity/Parental Leave in style...

For 7+ weeks.

49 days if you prefer.

I admit, I couldn't do it without my husband, Jason. Or Cecilia for that matter, without her, parenting leave this time around wouldn't have happened.

Anyway, just thought I would bring you all up to speed on how this is all coming to fruition. Careful spending, careful saving, and an abundance of unused Vacation time on my part has facilitated this adventure. Not to mention the generous support of the Canadian government for funding Jason's parental leave.

So, without further ado, we shall be packing up our buckets and swimsuits; sunblock and rashguards and hitting the Hawaiin beaches... endeavouring to reach that mythical state of Aloha.

If you care to join us on our adventure, I will try to keep the blog updated with our photos and tales of adventure as often as I can.

If it is any consolation to all of you back home in Canada... you will mostly all still be experiencing the awesomeness of Indian Summer... (except Calgary, who knows when the snow might show up on your doorstep... literally).

Aloha.
Julie 

Pet “Pee”ves!!

So after a long break from my Blog… I am jumping back in with a totally random topic I MUST get off my chest.

The subject matter… The Problems with Public Washrooms.

Ok, my family members and a few very close friends may already be aware of my numerous issues with public washrooms, but allow me my rant and perhaps learn a thing or two about me in the process. I have listed these feelings in no particular order.

#1 – Toilets that are not properly affixed to the floor.

Seriously Ladies, you know what I am talking about. You get in to the stall, and sit down, only to realize that you are listing to Starboard. Something is definitely not right. You clench all your thigh muscles for all your worth and try to relieve yourself. How are you supposed to feel relieved with all that clenching? Seriously.

#2 – Toilet Seats that are not properly affixed to the toilet.

Once again, you come rushing into the loo with every thought of relief, only to sit and have the seat itself slip to Port or Starboard… and suddenly you are most definitely touching the icy cold porcelain with your bare skin. Then you have that fleeting image of little germ/bacteria soldiers spying their chance to start their march onto your unprotected skin… and ewwww. Seriously, Germ Armies. They are hard to wash off your upper thigh when you are in a public place.

#3 – Stalls that are made for midgets who carry no baggage.

Ok, I realize that I am personally pushing the 6ft mark for height, and I fact have the longest femurs of anyone I know… including a 6’4 colleague. When I sit on the toilet, I do not want to have to sit in a compromising position just so my knees aren’t jammed into the door. Also, when I am turning to close the door with my purse and my shopping, why is it necessary for me to precariously straddle the toilet in order to get the door closed? Not to mention accidentally setting off the auto flush function while straddling the open bowl just to get the door closed (see point #4).

#4 – Automatic Flushers

I understand intellectually the beauty of the automatic flushing sensor. I mentioned the Germ Army earlier, and I guarantee they live on the flusher… but have you had it automatically flush while still in the middle of the act? It is not good. In fact, I find it extremely stressful. Germ Army riding on a tsunami. Yuck.

#5 – Toilet Paper

OK, I can’t talk about toilet pet peeves without discussing the paper. I would like to challenge Murphy’s law that every 20^th public toilet you use (I am speaking for women here), is always out of paper? And if you are lucky enough to have a neighbor next door who is willing to share under the door… why do they give you 4 squares of paper!!! WHO USES 4 SQUARES? Hippies!! And Eco Friendly crazies!! Give me a wad and let me choose how much I want. I guess that is not the bathroom’s fault.

#6 – The Handwashing Experience

So I will close with the hand wash. Hopefully the last thing you do in this bathroom. So you approach the sink with some haste with visions of bacteria soldiers dancing their way up your arms. You lean up casually against the counter to reach the soap only to realize you have now soaked up all the counter water onto your pants/skirt. It kinda looks like you may have peed yourself, but the there is a film of soapy gunk there too. Delightful. Not only that, you discover that the soap is empty and the water is pretty much the temperature of a glacial fed river. Nothing says cleaning like glacier water!! Either way, maybe the germ soldiers all caught hypothermia and died. There is more than one way to finish off a germ army!!

I realize other people have other bathroom pet peeves, often relating to fellow patrons. I also have these negative feelings, but they are reserved for a later blog.

Glad I got these feelings off my chest. I will try not to be so graphic next time.

Dispelling and Creating the Myth of the JKB

For those of you who are looking for a scientific explanation of Japanese Kamikaze Bees, allow me to redirect you at this time. I have no biological evidence of Japanese Kamikaze Bees... however, I would like to share with you that there is a species of hornets called Asian Giant Hornets. They are pretty bad ass - and I am a full on Spheksophobic (ie. I fear wasps and hornets). I am pretty sure I would pee myself should I ever encounter an Asian Giant Hornet - however I might get a Personal Best Triathlon time should I be pursued by one of these bad boys while riding a bike, or running a foot race.

Anyway, although the internet seems generally unfamiliar with this species of bee, allow me to share with you my personal experience with these wild creatures.

On a beautiful summer day at "Ye Old Swimmin' Hole", I was swimming with my best friend Colleen. Our boyfriends were adventuring in the woods nearby and my faithful, non swimming dog was basking in the sunshine. It was at that time, Pookie (the dog), began wildly leaping in the air and gnashing her teeth at a fuzzy, buzzy enemy - the Japanese Kamikaze Bees.

Side Note - I have a degree in History. It is not a very solid degree... not to say that History is not solid, but rather, my efforts in Academia was questionable. Nevertheless, I remembered at that moment, my lessons in World War II and the Japanese Airforce Pilots who would fly suicide missions against the Allies at the time. These pilots would volunteer to crash their planes into various targets in order to eliminate the competition. There was also a prevailing theory during the War that it was, in fact, probably better to die than to be taken captive... therefore, many wounded planes would simply crash into enemy lines/tanks/troops in order to prevent capture (and probably a more torturous death). For the record... this Blog is also not specifically intended to be a history lesson, or any political commentary - if you would like to learn more about World War II or Kamikaze Units, please research this topic at your local library - or even hit up the internet for more information.

Back to the story...

Pookie was a kind and gentle hound dog. She wouldn't hurt a fly if it flew into her mouth. She would, however, kills hornets, wasps and bees. She hunted like a cat... reclining lazily in the sun, until the unsuspecting buzzer would fly close enough for her to chomp it from its airborne state. She would leap majestically, and with a snap, terminate that buzzing beast in one fell swoop. Occasionally, she would get a sting in the face before the buzzer would die, but even with multiple stings, Pookie was relentless.

So, back to the bees. The bees on this summer day were merely going about their bee business... molesting flowers and making that bzzzzzz... that buzzy, buzzy, make my neck crawl, and my phobia heighten, buzz. Jerks. And Pookie, my faithful hound was dispatching them as quick as she could.

Well... these bees started sending out their bee signals to their friends. These were the big, fat, fuzzy cartoon bees. Really endearing in a book, but not so much when I accidentally step into a flock of them in a flower patch. Incidentally, did you know that a group of bees is called a BIKE!!?? How bizarre to a bee-phobic triathlete!!

Anyhoo, as the Emergency Bee Signals were sent out... the bees began arriving at our location, flying in their leisurely honeybee way... and Pookie was snatching them out of the air. She dispatched of at least 7 before I started wondering who put the call out for Bees on a suicide mission. These big bees did not stand a chance against my athletic canine. Their teddy bear bodies were piling up at her feet. These bees were on a suicide mission, and I was starting to feel bad for them. In my head, my not so killer, not so swimmer dog was starting a genocide against a race of bees. Unfortunately, my phobia kept me firmly planted in the water up to my eyeballs to prevent the possibility of stings, buzzes and brushes with bees.

It was rather suddenly that I realized that the suicide mission bees were about to be backed up by the entire Air force. Right out a slow motion, military movie montage... so came the bike of bees... and Pookie realized her time was up. With one last snap and twist in the air, my hydrophobic dog retreated into "Ye Old Swimming Hole" with her fearless leader. Me.

For the record, we were in fact skinny dipping at the time.

By the time the boys returned... we were still up to our eyeballs in water... fearing the imminent return of the fearsome bees.

Pookie had long since swum across the river to the safety of the other side.

And we had coined the term, Japanese Kamikaze Bees.