Maui: The Last of It

Well, this is the end. Of the Hawaii recap, that is. We really enjoyed our trip and when people ask us what the best part was, we answer "Not having the kids." And the feeling was mutual. Of the four kids, only Katie missed us. Her tender-hearted little self would burst into tears if anyone even mentioned the words "Mommy and Daddy." Jack could barely pull himself away from the pantry of sugary treats to speak on the phone to us and right after we came home, Noah asked when we were going back to Hawaii so he could go back to Grandma and Grandpa's.

Hawaii was stunning but we're not sure we'd go back. Maybe if the kids want to when they're teenagers or something. The wild parts of Maui were so much fun to drive through and explore but driving through the towns looked about like many Florida beach towns. There's just so many other places in the world I want to go: Rome, Greece, Madagascar, Indonesia, the parts of Mexico in which I won't get shot, etc.

But it is beautiful and I'm so very glad Matt and I got to spend a week there together. On the last day, we walked around the resort for the last time and checked out of our room. That was noon and our flight wasn't until about 5 so we settled in some lobby chairs for a little reading time. Soon after, we got a text update from the travel company to say that our flight was delayed until 8pm. An hour later, it was 9:45 pm. Soon, midnight.

To say that we were panicking would be an understatement. We had no hotel room, our rental car was due back later that day and we were already tired, looking forward to 11 hours of flying. Plus, we knew that if we were much later, the grandparents would be dropping the kids off at our house whether we were back or not. When that flight was then pushed even further, until 1 pm the next day, we called the airline.

"No, no, " they said, "we moved you to a different airline and you're confirmed on the 9:20 pm flight tonight."

That was a relief but I strongly suspected that Matt's dad had called the airline upon hearing the delay - "You get those two on a flight today or so help me..."

We drove around Maui, had fish tacos at a famous local restaurant, and went to the newly opened Target. It's the first one there and people were going crazy. It was like black Friday. (The big kids laughed when I told them how crowded Target was. They can't imagine a world without Target. And really, neither can I).

I was chatting with an employee and she apologized for the weather (which was rainy that morning) and for us not being able to spend a lot of time on the beach. I told her it was ok, we were from Florida so there's lots of sun there and we have a pool to swim in. She said "You have a pool at your house?" with her mouth gaping open. Come to think of it, I didn't see any personal pools in Maui. Perhaps it's uber expensive what with land being at a premium. It's all sinkholes where we come from, lady.

A curious thing about Hawaii: Lots of tattoos of their state. I saw them on men and women - on necks, on wrists, and, unfortunately, on the chests of some women. Because nothing's classier than a chest tattoo on a lady.

Can you imagine getting a tattoo of, say, Wyoming?

"Did you bring a picture of what you want?"

"Nah, just draw a square."

Also, lots of anchor tattoos. Some with the odd saying "I refuse to sink" in flowery script. 

Isn't that the point of anchors? To sink?

Why not a drawing of arm floaties instead, artfully tatted on your ankle or bicep? That would really make much more sense.

I refuse to sink

Anyway, we got on our flight later that night and Matt and I popped a couple motion sickness pills before the flight so we would sleep. Here's the thing about sleeping on planes - I'm terrible at it. So I have to take something. Here's the thing about me taking sedating medication - I'm terrible at it. It affects me within minutes and I'm slurring my words. It's a crapshoot either way.

The entire flight, Matt sat in his chair, arms resting lightly at his sides, eyes closed in peaceful slumber. I'm sprawled out on my chair and the (thankfully) empty chair next to me. On my side with my hair in the aisle and my legs curled up on Matt's lap, on my back with one leg bent over Matt's chest and the other draped over his knees. I forgot to put on my seatbelt and the attendant tapped me awake and I came to violently, crying "What? What is it?" 

We had a layover in San Francisco and I sprawled out on the bench, facedown to sleep. I can really only sleep well one way: on my stomach with my arms and legs bent like a swastika. It sounds like the beginnings of a sacrificial burning, I know. Even after about 7 hours, the meds were still affecting me during our last leg. Matt and I were in different rows due to the switch and I was in the middle of my three seat row. Not long after taking off, I apparently dozed off a bit. 

You know when you start to sleep and your muscles sometimes jerk? There was that going on, plus the sedative meds, plus my restless leg syndrome. 

My left leg jerked violently and kicked the guy next to me.

"Oops, sorry about that. I'm heavily medicated with one motion sickness pill. Legs do that sometimes. Well, you know what I mean, you have two."

Also on that flight were two young guys behind me. Conversing loudly in that slightly arrogant way that young 20-something guys are prone to do. Here is a smattering of topics covered in a roughly 20 minute time:

*The Theory of Relativity

*Women They've Slept With 

*Best Bread for Reuben Sandwiches

It was like a strange game of Jeopardy - "What is busty blondes?" "What is pumpernickel?'

I would've jumped in at the Theory of Relativity but I had only read one chapter of that book.

Fine. Half a chapter.

We finally got home and it was so good to see the kids and our parents and our home again. We brought cheap souvenirs for the kids (including the Matt's free lei from the hotel for Jack and the rest of my travel applesauce for the toddlers). I was going to get them Hawaiian shirts but they wouldn't appreciate the $40 each they would cost. I did seriously consider buying a couple from Ebay to be at our house when we got back. Maybe Gymboree is Hawaiian for something. They wouldn't know.

Thanks for the Hawaii souvenirs, Mom! You're the best!

We are VERY fortunate to have both sets of grandparents nearby. I didn't have that growing up and envied those who did so I'm happy my kids get to experience that. They took good care of our kids. Maybe too good.  Matt's parents and my mom came over the night we got back and here's how the conversation went concerning the week at their houses:

Matt's Dad: "They got to leave the table and come back again for their food."

Matt's Mom: "They had dessert without finishing their dinners."
 My Mom: "We had ice cream for dinner."

Oh, c'mon! Needless to say, the next day was a bit of detox. Withdrawal, even. Back to math and oatmeal and joyless children.

So that, in a very big nutshell, is our first Edward Jones trip. Aloha! Now, I've got to get back to washing my own towels and nagging my kids. They're so happy we're back.

Maui: Rugs, Car Sickness, and Snorkels

Next is a picture-heavy, not-very-funny post about our week in Hawaii.

First of all, this hotel.

Both of these are taken from the lobby. It's open air and huge. There are all sorts of reading nooks and plants. There are a few pools and a hammock, which is where I spent some enjoyable afternoons, reading Mary Roach's Gulp.

Notice, if you will, that I am wearing shorts. It was in the 70's the week we were in Hawaii, maybe a couple days in the low 80's. Pretty much the exact weather in Florida. Many of the people in our group asked why we were even in Hawaii. Certainly not to escape a dismal winter - more to see the area. It was cloudy and rainy about half the time we were there. We felt bad for the people in our group who planned to sunbathe all day every day. Matt and I donned our swimsuits once, to go snorkeling in chilly waters. It was almost painful for us, watching people on the beach and around the pool, stripped down to swimsuits in 75 degree sun. Desperate Minnesotans and New Yorkers, trying to soak up as much warmth as they could.

There was a funny thing about the hotel elevators. Every single one of them had these rugs in it:

Three times a day, they were changed to say "Good Morning, Good Afternoon, or Good Evening." That's right. Three times a day, the rugs were changed. It is actually someone's job to change out the rugs. And really, Carpet Relocation Specialist sounds pretty good on a resume.


On our second morning there, we got up at 3 am to watch the sunrise over the Haleakala Volcano. It was stunning.

Yup, a 2 hour drive for that. Good times. Later that day we drove to another town and took a selfie along the coast. Because we're cool like that.

That night we had a luau for the company. The picture of the dancers is mostly the backs of audience members, but you get the general idea.

During the trip, we took a day and drove the famous "Road to Hana." It's a road with hairpin turns, often narrowing down over bridges to one-way roads. It rained all morning we drove and there were several trees down in the road which backed up traffic. We didn't stop at any of the places I had written down to stop (banana bread, coconut candy, smoothies - it was all food, really).  It was a joke among those who had been to Maui to tell the newcomers that it's a great idea to throw your kids in the back of the car and take the drive. As we drove it, I could see why that would be difficult. We would've been cleaning that morning's breakfast out of the rental car.

Around the town of Hana, the sun came out and we decided to travel the rest of the road around the volcano, a road sometimes not recommended for being unpaved and difficult.

It was breathtakingly beautiful. Easily the best drive we've ever taken (and Matt having driven across the country a few times). We stopped at a state park and hiked half way through the drive. The funny thing is, I had spur of the moment decided to put on makeup that morning. I had planned to wear makeup every day of the vacation just to jazz things up. I had, of course, forgotten all about my new plan until Friday, 5 days into our 7 day trip. Anyway, I got really sweaty hiking in the rainforest and absentmindedly wiped sweat out of my eye with my shirt and got mascara all over my shirt. This is why I don't wear makeup!

I told Matt in indignation "Look, the graffiti isn't even correct!" And then as we got closer, I saw that someone had corrected it. A person after my own heart. "That makes me feel so much better," I said to Matt in relief. "It shouldn't," he replied, with a look of concern.

We keep on going and there were fewer and fewer cars. We were told that Jurassic Park was filmed on that side of Maui and it's easy to see why that location was chosen. It's a virtually untouched rainforest.  It's probably a sad sign of my generation but my first thought, when I saw the sun shining ribbons of yellow on the ocean and land, was, "This looks like a movie."

This is how crazy close the cliffs were to the road. See that curve? You have to honk your horn and slow way down in case there's a car coming the other way on the narrow road.

Really, State of Hawaii? Where, oh where, has the proper use of adverbs gone?

We stopped at this funky little general store. I got a cheap silver bangle that says "Aloha" and we ate a snack and drank pop on the porch while chatting with other patrons.

This was a local winery. It goes without saying that we popped in for some samples.

Really amazing sculptures of hula dancers. It has a great history, as evidenced by a sign, but all I could think was a chorus of a song: "If you've ever loved somebody, put your hands up..."

Finally, as an end to this long, long post of pictures, our last day in Hawaii we went snorkeling. As I said before, it was hella cold for these Floridians but we still enjoyed it. Matt suggested we hold hands while we snorkeled so we didn't get separated. We were like the Romeo and Juliet of the sea. We saw turtles and angelfish and starfish. It was like being on the set of Finding Nemo. We had some Mai Tais and food on board the ship too and met some lovely people and talked about cardiology, adoption, parenthood, sea mammals. The usual conversation topics of completely normal people. We also saw a pod (a herd? a gaggle?) of dolphins, swim-sleeping (so we were told).

Later that evening, we had the farewell dinner. It's always a little tough, trying to make small talk with a bunch of other people we don't know. You can't ask the usual name and where they live and what they do, because we're all wearing nametags with that information. But by the end of the week we'd made some friends in the group and passed an enjoyable evening. One more post in this vacation series chronicling the way home. I know you're all dying to know what it will be about but I can give you a couple teasers, including the Theory of Relativity and being heavily medicated.

If that doesn't whet your appetite, I don't know what will.

Maui: Getting There is Half the Fun...or Something

Matt and I got home from our week in Maui yesterday. I started collecting books to read on the trip a couple months ahead of time. One of them, a book on physics by Brian Greene, was actually given to Jack but he wants me to read it aloud to him so I figured I'd better get a head start so I don't stumble over the words like an idiot.

The Elegant Universe: Superstrings, Hidden Dimensions, and the Quest for the Ultimate Theory is such an impressive looking book that I thought that perhaps the flight attendants would notice what a cultured and educated person I was and bump us up to first class, assuming that I did not belong in economy. Like a princess in a pigsty.

I gave it my best shot but what I ended up reading was Tina Fey's Bossypants.

Needless to say, we stayed in Economy. Where we belong.

I was out of place anyway because I was not wearing one of the following: leggings and riding boots, socks with flip flops, or stilettos.

At what point in the decision-making process does one think that stilettos are a good choice for travel? Perhaps the 5" heels are for clubbing while the 3" are made for easy wearing? There I was, in my sneakers and yoga pants and I was out of place.

Something has gone terribly wrong when you wear stilettos to a place with moving sidewalks and TSA body scans. Most likely these are the same people who refill their ice cube trays with Evian and insist on hyphenating their children's last names.

During our final flight to Maui, I sat behind a girl of perhaps 14 or 15.

She, of course, took copious amounts of pictures on her cell phone. Often of the clouds from her window. I imagine she posted them to Facebook or Instagram with an absurd amount of hashtags: #Maui #Airplane #Clouds #Heaven #ComplimentarySodas #WearingMyStilettos #YouWishYouWereMe #ThatCloudLooksLikeAnAmaradillo #RunningOutofThingstoSay #StillHashtaggingThough #TinyBathrooms

With four kids at home, even the flight to Maui was enjoyable. I got to drink my pop without someone saying "This is for me?" while drinking it. Matt and I watched a movie on the flight, even though there was considerable white noise from the headphone jack. No matter - we were watching an entire movie! An adult movie!  Matt and I got to talk to each other without interruption. Sure it was uncomfortable at first (So...how's it going? Do you have enough armrest? Say, what does that cloud look like to you?), but we got the hang of it quickly. I imagined the conversations that Jack was having with my Grandma:

J: "What are these medication bottles for?"
G: "High blood pressure."
J: "High blood pressure can kill you. Want me to tell you all the diseases you might get as an old person?"

And then the ones Matt's mom was having with the other three kids:

Marcia: "Do you want graham crackers?
Everyone: "Yes!"

She distributes them and suddenly, a blood-curdling scream.

Marcia: "What?! What happened?
Noah: "Tali took mine!"
Tali: (inaudible high pitched screams in Chingrish)

Kate begins to sob - "My graham cracker broke in half but not on the line!"

I didn't envy them.

Our final flight was delayed four hours so we missed the welcome dinner at the hotel. We were hungry, as airlines have now cut out food service on most flights. Our 8.5 hr flight from Dallas to Maui had not even peanuts although the bathrooms are still as lovely as ever. So there's still that.

Imagine our surprise when there was a note for us at the counter of the hotel from Edward Jones, welcoming us and telling us to order room service that night on them.

Apparently they did this for all of the people from Matt's company on that delayed flight.

Giddy, we called up room service and placed an order.

We never order room service. Ever. And we especially wouldn't at a place that charges $600 for a room.

We were out on the balcony, overlooking the ocean, when our food arrived.

I was wearing a nightie so I told Matt to run and get the food. Nothing crazy, but short and strappy and lacy across the top.

The guy asked if he can set up the food for us and Matt says "Sure, on the balcony."

My eyes bugging out, I push my chair to a darkened corner and cross my arms over my chest.

The guy comes out and flips on the light, exposing my Target slip in harsh florescent colors. He does a small double take at the sight of me but I assume he's seen much worse. People in towels, people in no clothes, people in stilettos settling in for a night of relaxation.

He puts a tablecloth and a little floating Hawaiian flower on the table and sets out our plates. He only brought a butter knife for my filet mignon (filet mignon!) so we had to make sure it would still cut with that. That's right. I had to uncross my arms and cut my steak in front of him.

He got tipped with more than just money that night, I'll tell you that.

The setting of food on the balcony was so lovely I had to take a picture.

I almost took another picture of the food at a better angle but I knew it was a slippery slope from there. It starts with pictures of food and ends with hashtags. Every time.