I can't cram this into one blog. Too much went on. It gives me tired head just thinking about the massive amount of Kristin alphabet madness it would take to do one giant blog. So I am going to break this up into easily digestable pieces. You're welcome.
If we’ve met, you realize nothing for me is ever “normal”. Perhaps because I am not normal? Who knows. I prefer not to dissect that at the moment. Whatever the case, this was a theme that carried over into our family vacation last week. My whole family and I just returned from a Caribbean cruise. When I say whole family, I mean whole family. Not just the Durbin 4. My mom and Dad and my brother and his husband were there. Plus my aunt and uncle and her daughter and a friend and a very nice couple I don’t THINK I’m related to, lol.
It started out great. We hoped in the car and headed to Galveston Saturday morning. When we got to the condo we were spending the night in (thanks Richard!), the fog was so intense it was like gloppy hair mousse sitting on the city. Crazy thick. So why were we surprised to learn the next morning (departure morning) that the port was closed? I don’t know. I guess it never occurred to me the ship captain need to see what he was doing as he docked. He must be new. ::Giggle::
The low visibility made me slightly nervous as the biggest headline the week prior to sailing was the Italian cruise ship turned manmade reef thanks to a dingleberry steering and some rocks.
So we waited. And waited. And waited. This would be miserable for anyone. But we had 2 kids with us. I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but patience isn’t really a strong suit of America’s youth. Not to mention my youngest, who was in PERFECT health when we pulled out of our driveway, was quickly deteriorating healthwise. His sniffle became a cough which became a struggle to breath. By the time we got on the ship, I was seriously considering getting right back off and heading to the hospital. It was bad, friends. And I didn’t want to be stuck in the middle of the ocean with a 3 year old who couldn’t breath. We suffered through boarding and muster drill and took him to the medical center which was closed, but opened up just for us as he was in such bad shape. He got albuterol and oxygen and some steroids via nebulizer and we were told to stay with him and keep him contained for 2 days. Trenton was crying (he has such a soft heart for his little brother) and we were all beat, so we went to bed early night one… still without having set sail because of the still blanketing fog.
I awoke with a… start… at 3:06 AM. It seems the second the boat started moving (we were pulling away from the dock) my body said, “Hell NO!” and my land-loving digestive system staged a violent protest.
At breakfast the next morning my lurchy feeling had not subsided, so my dad gave me some meds which essentially knocked me out. I slept most of our first day at sea, lol. After that, I didn’t have much of a problem except for my hyper awareness of the boats rocking. It didn’t stop me from having a good time.
Because Carter has to be keep out of the water and couldn’t swim, the first day or 2 was… rough. Carter felt MUCH better (Thanks you, JESUS!), but that just meant he wanted to do things we couldn’t let him do. We basically just hung out and ate those first few days. Not that I’m complaining. It was nice to not HAVE to do anything.