Last weekend, John and I went to Mexico for a quick “let’s take naps on the beach” break. We didn’t realize until after we’d booked the trip (non-refundable, of course,) that we’d be gone on Mother’s Day, ensuring that I did not spend any time with my kid and that instead she would be in the care of her grandparents. Oops. (My mother: “you don’t want to be with your own daughter on Mother’s Day? REALLY?” Me: “Mom, consider it my Mother’s Day gift to you that you get several uninterrupted days with Poppy.” My mother: “Huh. Good point. Have fun!”)
May is not really prime Mexico vacation time – the weather here is finally starting to be nice, while in Mexico it’s the shoulder season, a little hot and muggy, a little bug-infested. But sitting on my breezy (windy) beach in a cabana chair, reading spy novels on the kindle, it seemed just about right. And we couldn’t really wait until prime fall/winter travel season anyway:
…yeah. So. That’s a thing that is happening. A boy, due in September. (I feel almost silly bringing it up – I feel good, life continues, it feels almost self-congratulatory to make a whole POST about it, since it’s a fairly ordinary thing we’re doing - but I have learned that the only thing people like less than pregnancy announcements is feeling they’ve been left out of the loop so eh, call it lesser of evils?) In sum: Mexico! Good times! Last hurrah on the kid-free travel for the foreseeable future!
So in a way, I guess, it was sort of a mother-themed trip. Just probably not what the Hallmark people had in mind.