mistergardner

Day 7 Kauai -

The trip is winding down, and so are we. Amber Smith said in a comment that vacations aren't called vacations when you have kids, they're called adventures. I second that wholeheartedly. This has been one hell of an adventure. Today we woke up LATE (like 7 o'clock!) and leisurely made our way to our favorite beach so I could snorkel along the reef that forms the cove. When it gets to this portion of a trip I always get kind of melancholy and nostalgic for the days that have just passed, and I sat in the passenger seat, watching the rainforest pass by, the huge vines overtaking many of the trees. It's an almost perfect drive, crossing one lane bridges – smelling the new rain, seeing taro fields alongside a meandering river, all flanked by huge mountains on one side, the pristine blue ocean on the other. This place is absolutely ridiculous. The picture is just one snapped from the side of the car going 50 – I happened to catch this waterfall that we didn't even see going up...

At the beach, I was assaulted by blue – the sky meets the ocean and there are so many different shades of blue that hit you – it's pretty amazing. We met another chick and her mom, and Isla splashed around with Tegan while I swam around – staying pretty shallow, because I forgot to get flippers, and um, I'm not the strongest swimmer around. Still, I got to see a ton of colorful fish flitting about among the coral and rocks – even some eels and what looked like seahorses – although they were probably just another type of fish. Whatever, they were cool. What is not cool is a 12 dollar snorkel mask that lets water in the nose area and snorting salt water while in about 16 feet of water, then forgetting one is in said water and inhaling without the snorkel in one's mouth, then sputtering one's way back to the shallow area where two redheaded girls aged about 7 giggle at one's antics. That's dumb.

Near-drownings aside, the snorkel trip was beautiful – Isla even fell asleep in the car on the way home, so we got to listen to songs without her wailing soundtrack in the background, just the phenomenal scenery to keep us company. Then we relaxed and ate safeway sandwiches on the lawn of the hotel, while Isla chased chickens and “beep bops” (the name she has dubbed the little black birds with yellow beaks and eye coloring that scare her with their loud blue-jay like cries). After a walk around the coconut marketplace laughing at the stuff they try and sell tourists like us, I somehow convinced Tegan to let me go out and swim and chill by the ocean by myself while Isla took her second nap. Our beach by the hotel is a little more “extreme” than the one we swam at today – but it was fun nonetheless.

O.K. Reality check. Tegan and I are in denial about taking toddlers to restaurants. We still think that we'll be able to enjoy a nice dinner at a sit down place sometime – that Isla will magically relax and hang out quietly in one of those wooden high chairs while we laugh and chat about our day, then eat a child's portion of whatever delicious morsels we have ordered for our meal. Dude. Get a grip. We went to a nice italian restaurant called “Kauai Pasta” and the minute she was placed in the high chair the outing went to crap. She began screaming, then reaching for the knives on the table, banging them as hard as she could against a plate. Once we wrestled the plate and knives from her, she wailed again – now the tourists in the restaurant, trying to enjoy themselves, started to glower over their sunburnt noses at us. Damn. OK- we've done this before – we'll just take turns. I eat half the salad, then Tegan hands Isla off to me, and I go outside with her until the food arrives. We hurriedly stuff our faces while blowing on some pasta bits to cool them down for Isla as she throws whatever piece of food she can get as far as she can in every direction – the tradeoff happens anew, and we shovel pasta and steak in our face in record time. I think the food was good – but I don't know – it was all a blur. When we will get it in our thick heads that we can't do this anymore for awhile, I don't know. Maybe never – I mean, she might be able to handle our favorite restaurant when we get back to the bay, right?


As I write this, I'm watching my baby, beautiful for all of her outrageousness, just in diapers, eating goldfish off of the carpet, and I'm thinking how happy I am to be a dad, in this place... anywhere.
Happy end of the vacation everybody. Goodnight.