I've got a super giveaway going on over at Givin' In A Fishbowl. Check it out here.
My grandparents retrieved us--me, two very sleepy boys, a car seat, a booster, three carry on bags, three personal items and one checked bag--from the airport. The boys did great on the flight and it was only touch and go once I woke them up and insisted that they attempt to get off the plane. Garrett was so tired he couldn't get his back pack on correctly and he stood in the aisle and burst into tears. Luckily, we were the very last people to get off the plane so only the flight attendants saw his meltdown. Matthew was exhausted and insisted that I carry him. Since I was trying to navigate three pieces of luggage down a narrow walkway, I told him I couldn't. He started sobbing and wouldn't move. Garrett then started forcefully pushing him down the aisle. Two tired boys attempting to get off a plane equaled disaster but once we met up with my grandma at baggage, we were fine.
We got back to my grandparents house around 7:40 and I put all of us back to bed. I set my alarm for a few hours later but woke up just before it went off. Garrett woke up shortly after and I had to wake Matthew after he'd slept a total of four hours. Otherwise he might never have gone to bed that night.
My grandma made us all pancakes and, once I'd packed up the car, we said goodbye to them and stopped to see my other grandpa for an hour. Garrett talked his ear off about the Navy. Side note: Garrett is kind of obsessed with the military. He told me the other day that he was going to first work at Red Lobster. Then he was going to be in the Army for awhile and then the Coast Guard. I explained that you pretty much pick one branch of the military and stick with it but I think that lesson might have fallen on deaf ears.
We then headed to my brother and SIL's new place. They'd set up a tent for the boys to sleep in so they were, obviously, thrilled. The boys were so tired that they had no problem going to bed at 7:30 PST which was actually 4:30 in the afternoon to their bodies. They slept until 7:30 the next morning so jet lag had nothing on them.
My brother, who works for Sea World, got us tickets and we spent the morning at the park. We saw the turtles, still an incredible exhibit but somewhat less thrilling when a wild sea turtle swims underneath you at a distance of about 18 inches. We saw the dolphins and the rays and the sea stars and the sharks. Jon took Matthew to see the penguins while I took Garrett on Journey to Atlantis. We watched the dolphin show. When we were out of time, I asked Garrett if he wanted to go into the kid area, see the polar bears, or ride the sky tower. He'd never been on the sky tower so he picked that. It was a great morning.
We headed to Miguel's (a favorite of mine since college) and had lunch with my old roommates--meaning that we don't live together anymore not that they're old. Unless you consider thirty to be old which, well, it kind of is. The conversation was great and the food was delicious. Everything was perfect except that my boys both decided that they didn't like the white sauce which means that they are not my children. Oh well. It just meant that there was more for me.
We went back to Jon and Heather's and played in their pool, had dinner and spent time with them. The five of us played a rousing game of Candyland.
I drove the boys to southern Utah. It was uneventful except for one of the worst pit stops ever. I stopped at a McDonald's for lunch and it took 25 minutes to get our food and get out of the parking lot. After waiting 20 minutes for the food, it took another five for the people in line at the drive thru to let me back out. I was seriously ready to go out of my mind.
We made it to my great aunt's house in Hurricane, UT and went to her pool. It was at her pool that I made a shocking--to me anyway--discovery. Matthew had been swimming with floaties in HI. At one point, in my aunt's pool, he told me he was done swimming. I got him out and deflated his water wings. A minute later he said he wanted to get back in. I told him no because we were about to leave and he'd taken off his floaties. "I swim by myself," he said.
"You don't know how," I told him.
"Yes I do."
He was being very bratty and defiant so I said, "Fine. Go." He turned and toddled off. I followed one step behind. I figured he'd jump in and sink and I would jump in a second behind him, pick him up, and the lesson would be learned. But this is my kid we're talking about (white sauce not withstanding). He jumped in, popped back up, and started swimming. It's very simple, barely swimming but it is swimming nevertheless. Somehow, in Hawaii, with all the time we spent in the pool and the sea, my kid basically learned how to swim.
We got up, had breakfast with my aunt and uncle, and then headed home. I bought the boys ice cream in Santaquin--because they have some of the best ice cream ever. We made it home to a very happy daddy and a very excited dog. Every time we walked out to the car to carry something in, he started crying (the dog, not the husband), which he hardly ever does. It was very cute.
So we're home from our two and a half week trek to San Diego and Maui. It was an amazing trip. We bought a CD of Hawaiian music while we were there because Garrett is having a luau party for his 6th birthday. One of the lines of one of the songs say, "This must be just like living in Paradise. And I don't want to go home."
Ain't that the truth.