Day 5: Going with the Flow

For most of Phoebe's life, I have repeatedly proclaimed that she is so chill.  She's almost always willing to put up with whatever the rest of us are doing and very happily "go with the flow."  We've constantly debated how much of that can be attributed to her personality, how much of it is simply because she's the third kid, and how much of it is actually because we are so much more relaxed and confident in our own parenting abilities.  In answers to our own wonderings, we've been content to agree that it must be some sort of combination of all of the above.

In any case, Phoebe handles it all very well.  Including an entire day spent traipsing around the northwestern coast of Costa Rica.  The actual hotel portion of the resort we stayed at was actually a few short miles from the actual coastline of the property.  This meant that from our hotel room, we had a short drive to the beach.  Also, the natives that we were with had a few different ideas of where to hang out on the beach and where the best surfing could be found.

So day number 5 in Costa Rica began with breakfast, and a general layout of the game plan for the day.  Tim and I felt bad because we were with two other couples, and we were the ones with the baby, so we were always the one to complicate plans.  Phoeb's may be chill, but having a baby on this kind of trip always changes your flexiblity somewhat.  Even with a chill baby.  Everyone else was on vacation and were attempting from making plans of any kind, but because we were trying to maintain optimal baby happiness, we were attempting to have SOME kind of naptimes!

The "plan" we came up with for the day: go to a different beach a short distance away at the neighboring resort, get some lunch, maybe check out another beach and come back to the hotel for Phoebe's afternoon nap.  Pretty simple, loose plan.  When asked, we did say that in an ideal situation, we would have Phoebe back for an afternoon nap around 1:00ish.

Here's how the day actually played out.  We left around 9:30ish for the beach by the Marriott resort.  It was AMAZING.  I don't think I took a single picture at that beach.  I was too busy enjoying it.  So you'll just have to take my word for it.  We put Phoebs in the stroller and strolled the beach for a bit, and she napped like a champ. 

Shortly after she woke up, we loaded back up in the cars and headed to a second beach.  This one was a bit busier than the resort beaches, but we got a much better taste of local culture.  It was everything you expect in beach culture, but it was Costa Rica instead of San Diego or Cocoa Beach.

The craziest part was that we parked in the parking lot and couldn't see a drop of water anywhere.  To get to the actual beachfront, we had to walk almost a quarter of a mile along this rickety, wooden plank boardwalk through the mangroves to get to the water.  If we hadn't been with people who had been there before, we would have never found the water.  

Phoebe wasn't so in love with this beach.

But at least Tim got a taste of surfing.

We hung out at this beach until long past baby lunch time, while Tim and I frantically fed Phoebe everything we had stashed in the diaper bag for a "just in case" situation.  And she survived with hardly a protest.  Once we left the beach around 1:30, we stopped at a restaurant that was just at the edge of the parking lot.  We ventured back through the mangroves, and Phoebe almost fell asleep in the stroller.  Once again, "going with the flow."  The restaurant was this perfectly "thatched roof" nearly outdoor beach lunch stop.  I ordered a fruit salad (in Spanish, thank you very much), and to my surprise, it came with ice cream on top!

Restaurants in Costa Rica are a totally different experience.  In the sense that you are on Costa Rica time.  You wait to order.  You wait for your food.  You wait for your bill.  A simple meal can take hours.  And usually does.  

This one was no exception.  Poor Phoebe was absolutely exhausted, but she was hanging in there like a champ.  And once lunch was finished, we decided to part ways with our friends.  They took us back to the hotel, and the rest of the crew went shopping in nearby Tamarindo, and we finally laid Phoebe down for a nap and chilled out at the pool right outside our door while she slept.  

After her nap, we met the rest of our group down at the resort's pool/beachfront and bar for sunset on our beach along with a little bit of pool time and dinner.  After dinner, we headed back to our room just before everyone else to get Phoebe back to bed.  Incidentally, she unquestionably prefers the pool over the ocean.

Looking back on the day almost makes me laugh.  I spent a good portion of the day trying to balance enjoying our surroundings, not being the difficult people with the baby, and worrying that Phoebe was not going to be able to handle all that was going on.  But really, was she phased by it all?  Not hardly in the least.  As I've boasted hundreds of times, "she just goes with the flow."  

And I'm beginning to learn that I should should take some lessons from her.  Relax.  Go with the flow, Aim.  It's all gonna work out just fine!

Day 4: The Beach

After a full day of traveling on "Tico Time," we finally arrived at our hotel at about 4:30.  We got checked in and where headed to the beach within minutes.  This resort was unlike any other I have ever staying in, in that the rooms where not right near the beach.  We actually had to get back in the car and drive a couple of miles to where the beach front was. 

It was well worth the drive.  Once you checked into the beach club, there was an infinity pool (which I saw for the first time here).  For the uneducated like me, an infinity pool is a pool that is built up a bit from the ocean, so that the edge of it looks out to the horizon and it literally looks as if the pool goes on forever.  It's pretty amazing. 

Past the inifinity pool was the ocean.  We've been told that this particular spot on this particular beach is one of the top 5 places to surf in the entire world.  For as much as I know about surfing, I have no idea if that's true or not.  I do know the waves, the beach, and the surfers we watched were absolutely unbelievable. 

We got to the beach just before sunset, and so we were able to watch the sunset over the Gulf of Mexico, along the northwestern shores of Costa Rica.  Standing here at the water's edge was one of the scariest, intense, spiritual moments of my life.  Even though I like to pretend that I am a writer, I think I have absolutely no words great enough to explain what I was feeling in those moments. 

But since I like to pretend that I am a writer, I have to at least try!

The waves that evening were unlike any I have ever seen.  They were beautiful.  The beach was absolutely spotless.  Nothing like the dirty, overpopulated Californian beaches that I am used to.  There were no picnic remains, cigarette butts, or people for that matter anywhere in sight.  The sand was soft, clean, and full of shells.  The water was not vibrant turquoise like you see on some beaches, but rather clear as could be with whiter than white swells. 

I have never felt as small and insignificant as I did with those waves washing over my feet.  Sometimes, especially as Americans, we get so caught up in our own worlds and our lives.  We think and act as if the world revolves around us.  Living in the United States breeds in us this mentality that "It's all about me."  Even if we try and deny it, fight it, it's always there.  It's our culture and how we live. 

But man, it takes one or two of those massive, powerful waves washing over you to remember, you could be caught up in one of those and be gone in an instant.  In the blink of an eye. 

And what's even more amazing than that is that those waves are normal life.  They are not a natural disaster or a freak occurance, or a one in a million event.  It happens all day long, every day, 24/7/365.  That power, that majesty, that beauty, that intensity.  It's always there. 

And in the scheme of it all, how do I fit in?  Those waves will continue, with or without me.  Wowsers.  Pretty amazing stuff to give you perspective.

CR Day 3: La Paz Waterfall Gardens

They don't call it the "rainforest" for no reason.  Holy smokes; it's amazing my camera is functional in any way at this point.  If I had a dollar for every time I've heard "I've never seen it rain so much here," I might have been able to pay for our entire trip.

The day brought us to La Paz Waterfall Gardens, and the key word here would be WATER.  We left San Isidro, and drove through the cat hair rain, into the sunshine, through the mountains, under the clouds, over the potholes, and the weather would change every ten minutes.

Until we got to where the Waterfall Gardens were.  The cat hair rain had turned into definite mist.  But we are, after all, in Costa Rica, and I had been warned to bring an umbrella.  Being I didn't have an umbrella, I decided now would be as good a time as any to get one.  I was glad I had brought it to the waterfalls.  And, since we were, as mentioned, in Costa Rica, I was not about to start complaining.  (Even when Tim conveniently offered to carry Phoebe in the front carrier, meaning he weasled his way into using the umbrella I had purchased for the occassion.)  Rain or no rain, I was going to experience this rainforest!

La Paz Waterfall Gardens were explained to us as the owner's "own personal Jurassic Park."  We couldn't wait to see what this meant.  It was kinda like the zoo meets the butterfly gardens meets waterfalls meets Jurassic Park.  There was a bird area where we got to feed the toucans, there was a butterfly section where the chrysallis were not behind glass like at the Butterfly Pavallion, there was a snake and frog area, an orchid area, a monkey area, and a large cat area where you could play tug of war with the leopards on the other side of the glass.  No joke.

There were also some pretty amazing waterfalls.

And some rain.  Okay, more than some.  Lots.  I think I wrang out a waterfalls worth of water out of my fleece hoodie by the time we stopped for lunch.

And for those of you who are keeping track, yes, Phoebe was with us the entire time.  She endured the rain like you absolutely wouldn't believe.  Not a complaint out of her the entire day!

Seems to me she had the right attitude.  We may have been wet, but we were wet in the rainforest in Costa Rica.  WOW!!!

In the bird hut

In the butterfly "pavalion"

checking out the butterflies

the orchids

poison dart frogs

waterfalls- i don't think the picture does justice for how wet we were

lot of good that umbrella was doing...

Day 2: COSTA RICA!!!!

"May the Lord bless you and keep you.  May the Lord make His face to shine upon you and be gracious unto you.  May the Lord lift up His countenance upon you and give you peace."

For the last year, Tim and I have prayed this blessing (taken out of Numbers 6) upon our kids every night.  But after having experienced my first full day in Costa Rica, I couldn't help falling asleep on Thursday night feeling as if the Lord were making His face to shine upon Tim and I as well.

Phoebe breezed through the 5 hour overnight flight like she was an experienced world traveler.  I normally get a little uptight in situations like the customs experience, but I managed to get both Sweetest P and I, the stroller, the carseat, our two suitcases and our two carry-ons through as if I had spent my whole life practicing.  It couldn't have gone more smoothly.  Tim told me that he expected to meet me immediately on the other side of customs and "rescue" me from an over tired Phoebe, and do whatever he could to get me some sleep.  STAT.  He was totally unprepared to see me breeze through the doors, calm, cool and totally together.

The rest of the day is a little bit of a blur (because even though it did all go super smoothly, between holding a baby and an uncomfortable airplane ride, I didn't get much sleep between Denver and San Jose).

I can tell you that I spent the ride from the airport to our lodging totally soaking it all in.  The sun, the air, the architecture, the people, the traffic, the landscape, the insanity of it all.  We got to where we were staying, and it was nothing that I had imagined.  The sun was shining, it was greener than I've seen since I left Minnesota, but everything was WET.  And I learned a new phrase.  "Cat hair rain."  Most of us would call it mist, but it's slightly more than mist.  Somewhere between mist and very light rain.  And here in Costa Rica, I guess they call it "cat hair rain."

Our activity for that first day was a tour of Cafe Britt, where they make coffee.  We learned all about the coffee process- from the picking of the beans to the packages on the shelf in the store.  And we found out that the adults in Costa Rican coffee store are the same as kids in a candy shop.  And why wouldn't I be, after I had just survived an overnight, international flight with myself and a baby?

That night, as I lay in bed, I feel like I spent hours jabbering to Tim about how I really felt the Lord's blessing upon our trip and our time in Costa Rica.  So thankful to be here.   


*PS- pardon the quality of these pictures.  We have Tim's work computer with us, rather than our own, so I have edited all the pictures in our online albums, rather than on the computer, as I eventually intend to transfer them to our computer at home.  As a result, you are seeing the unedited versions.

Posing with these crazy statues outside Cafe Britt- waiting for the tour to start.  Man, do I look old.

They had all these crazy trash cans around the yard.  I wanted to take pictures of more of them, but they all kinda represent evil spirits, so something told me it just wasn't all that appropriate.  I guess they put on masks like these and chase little kids through the streets to chase the evil out of them before Christmas.

We were told that we would get all kinds of good prizes if we volunteered when they asked, so Tim jumped at the chance.  He's getting ready for a professional coffee tasting experience.

Stirring the coffee before he tasted it.

Tim showing off his "great" prize.

Costa Rica Day 1: Leaving Home

Maybe that title is a misnomer, seeing as how the first day technically didn't get me any farther than the airport, but it was the beginning of the journey, and I feel like it was significant enough that I need to document it.

As the days got closer and closer to departure, I was beginning to not just realize, but also acknowledge that I was having a little bit of anxiety over our trip.  In fact, it wasn't until the first week in January when I knew for sure where Sophia and Noah were going that I even began to get excited about Costa Rica.  We had talked about the possibility of me accompanying Tim for almost 6 months, but it was just the very beginning of January, when I finally felt the details coming together and found myself smiling at the thought of our trip.  That's when I realized that yes, I had been a little stressed about the details, but now it was time to think about the fun!

But then Tim left Sunday night, in the middle of a snowstorm, leaving me with the kids, a couple of days of work ahead for me, single parenting, and the daunting task of organizing details for 3 kids going in 3 separate directions; 2 of them without me, and the youngest going on a international flight, overnight, with me.  Many would call me crazy; I like to think of myself as adventurous!

In any case, by Monday morning, I was beginning to realize that I was more than a little apprehensive about the upcoming flight with Sweetest P.  By Wednesday, although I had prayed about it some, I decided that it was time to quit praying half-heartedly and to truly "cast my cares" upon the Lord.  I earnestly prayed for traveling mercies and begged the Lord to show favor upon me and Phoebe for 6 hours while in the air.  And I pleaded for more faith to believe that the Lord would answer such a "trivial" request.

Wednesday flew by in a blur of preparation.  I braced myself for an emotionally ugly good-bye scene with the two older kids, and continued packing what seemed like endless bags.  (Except they weren't really endless because I was trying to avoid paying for excessive checked baggage.)  Bedtime came around, and I laid Phoebe down as usual, and took the older two over to the neighbors, where they would be staying for the first part of our trip.  They were so excited to have a "sleep-over" with their surrogate CO grandparents that they barely noticed I was leaving!  Thank God for for distraction; we'll call that blessing number one!

About 9:00, just as I was expecting my ride to show up, I got Phoebe out of bed, packed her in her carseat (why not, I had, after all, been packing endless bags all day long), and loaded up the van.  I was so grateful for a great friend to not only drive me to the airport at this ridiculous hour, but that she was also willing to accompany me to the ticket counter with aforementioned endless bags (plus now a stroller, carseat and baby!).  We'll maybe call this blessing #2!  I should have taken a picture for the record, but I think I was too distracted trying to remember all the important things (you know, passports and whatnot).

I hit the ticket counter just before 10, and let me tell you about the two Frontier agents at the counter.  That's right- two.  This night shift at the airport is a whole different ballgame than I've ever experienced.  It was such a laid back, relaxed atmosphere that really seemed to set the tone for the rest of the night. 

My next stop was a newstand store that happened to still be open (truly!) for ridiculously expensive airport priced earphones, since I hadn't managed to find mine ANYWHERE in my house before I left.  (Any guesses where they might have turned up?)  Miracle of all miracles (minor blessing, perhaps?), there was a store open and I was able to obtain some before even going through security. 

Ah, security.  Who doesn't dread the TSA experience?  Would you believe it was nothing?  A breeze.  Me, the babe, the stroller, the carseat, the diaper bag, the purse, the two 3+ oz. bottles of milk, and all.  We made it through like a cake walk.

I endured over an hour at the gate, waiting to board, although the time seemed to fly.  (Pun fully intended.)  I kept pusing the stroller back and forth, hoping Sweetest P would go back to sleep, but she never did.  We finally  boarded, and I know everyone around me was silently cursing their terrible misfortune of a seat so near a baby.  Overnight.  But would you believe my Sweetest P was so sweet that all those same people totally forgot she was there until we got off the plane?  That's right- she was perfect.  Absolutely perfect.  But that would be getting ahead of the story, since the actual flight didn't really happen until Day 2.

So, as the beginning of Day 1 of the Great Adventure drew to a close, I found myself stepping from the familiarity of DIA to the aircraft that would carry me into the unknown.  All the while praying in extreme gratitude for the peace that had engulfed me throughout the day, and in faith that Phoebe and I would have a great flight.

A Little Mommy Pride

I'm in the kitchen getting lunch together the other day while my two favorite preschoolers are in the dining room playing "Going to Africa in Noah's Ark" under the very large dining room table covered in blankets of all varieties.  Pretty normal occurrence in our house.  And I hear my Princess Lou tell her brother, "Mr. Sir, guess what?  My teacher told me I could be Mary."

That part isn't quite a normal experience in our house.  The conversation was not directed to me, but upon overhearing it, I'm not gonna lie that my heart skipped a little beat.  Or two.  I headed straight for the ark that might have been floating somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean for all I knew to verify that I had just heard the story correctly.

"Princess, did I just hear you right?  Are you going to be Mary in the Christmas program this year?"

"Well, my teacher said I could."

This was followed by a long series of questions from me to investigate whether this was accurate information, or if my sweet, innocent, sometimes confused 5 year old had maybe misinterpreted the conversation with her teacher.  For all I can tell, she's got her facts straight.

I think I am more excited about this than she is!  Don't get me wrong; she's thrilled.  As evidenced by the fact that she deemed it worthy enough to report to her brother.  But I think I might be embarrassingly excited about this monumental event.  I mean, this is a big deal.  Mary is the coveted, sought after, main part in the Christmas play.  Only someone highly deserving gets such an important role.  I'm pretty sure it would have been enough glory to ride out an entire year for me if I would have ever had such an honor.  I don't think she gets it.

Or maybe...more likely...I don't get it.  As I'm discovering happens more frequently than I care to admit, maybe my 5 year old does have a better perspective than me.  She's excited.  Which is good.  But maybe instead of being so excited for Princess Lou, I should step back and shift my focus to what the story represents, God incarnate, here on earth, in the form of a babe.  WOW!!!  Maybe who gets to reenact the play 2000 years later isn't quite as important as the original nativity story.  And maybe it's possible that my 5 year old understands that better than I do!

But that's not gonna stop me from being just a little bit proud.  Or maybe I'll be absolutely humbled on the day of the program to learn that my sweet princess was more confused than I thought and ends up in a generic angel costume once again.

"Chore Helper Checklist"

I've been on a mission lately.

In the last couple of months, I have spent a lot of time thinking about discipline.  I even started a post on it way back in August, but since then, I've discovered that this is more than a simple blog post can cure.  Maybe one day soon I'll discipline myself enough to finish that post.

Until then, let me share this little tidbit with ya.  Several weeks ago, I stumbled upon this little "chore helper" checklist.  I even got it on half-price sale.  :)  Anyway, I downloaded it immediately and put it to good use just as fast.  And let me tell you, it's my new love.  I'm maybe a little too obsessed with the checklist these days.

It's kinda hard to tell from the website, but I feel like this list is just exactly what I needed to help me keep on top of household chores.  I feel like this is something I have struggled with more than ever since our latest family member arrived last February, and this checklist keeps me both motivated and on top of the daily duties.  I love how it incorporates the usual household stuff with less frequent tasks like flipping your mattresses.

But my absolute most favorite part about having a checklist like this is that it helps keep me from being OCD about cleaning.  Sometimes I just avoid all cleaning because wiping the kitchen counters down might lead to emptying out every cupboard in the house to be vacuumed, washed and reorganized.  But with a simple checklist to keep me on task, I can wipe down the counters, check it off the list, feel productive and know that one day I am going to flip the page and it's going to say Dec. 5th: Clean out one kitchen cupboard.

Best of all, it even includes things like scrapbooking, baby books, and hobbies!  Yes, that's right, it includes those things as part of the daily "to-dos!"  So, if this is the kind of thing that helps you keep your house in order, check it out!

And I'm off- to check this off my Chore Helper Checklist!