Puerto Rico

(Originally published at Mile High Mamas).

Last summer, my daughter Hadley and I went on a mother-daughter trip to the San Juan Marriott Resort and Stellaris Casino in Puerto Rico.

Three months later, she is still raving about it.

And what’s not to love? For a parent, the great thing about Puerto Rico is it feels like an exotic international adventure with all the conveniences of home that make traveling with kids a cinch.

As an unincorporated territory of the United States, Puerto Rico uses U.S. currency, locals speak English and Spanish, there are no roaming charges for most cell phone providers and Americans don’t need a passport.

They’re pretty swell to Canucks, too.

Puerto Rico is also resplendent with local culture. Latin music fills Old San Juan’s cobblestone streets, culinary delights ooze with flavor, El Yunque’s lush mountain rain forest begs to be explored and the white-sand beaches host families and sun worshipers from all over the world.

The Fun

Hadley and I spent an afternoon discovering Old San Juan’s quaint shops as we eavesdropped on a medley of foreign tongues. The area’s flat-roofed brick and stone buildings date back to the 16th and 17th century when Puerto Rico was a Spanish possession.

Old forts still stand sentry over the city but none is more impressive than Fort San Felipe del Morro. Perched on a bluff overlooking the ocean, “El Morro” is touted as the oldest Spanish fort in the new world and was built in 1539 to control entry to the harbor and protect San Juan from attacks. The charge is $3 per adult over 16.

Even though six-year-old Hadley was not interested in the details of this National Historic Site, she was enraptured by the 360-degree views on the top floor that encapsulated San Juan. A wide swath of ocean-blue spanned so far that you’d swear you could see the curvature of the earth.

Those were my words.

Hers: “Wow!”

A popular family activity is kite flying on El Morro’s vast lawn. A kaleidoscope of kites danced to the wind as we laughed, tugged and raced against a backdrop so surreal you’d swear you had been dropped in a postcard.

Tip: Be sure to cool down with Piraguas (icees) located at a nearby kiosk.

Water

On our first day, San Juan was wrapped in a seamless blanket of moisture. On the second day, it was hot and humid.

This woosy Canuck will take the rain any day.

I was admittedly a bit worried to go to the pool first. A few years ago, my family went to Mexico and my kids never wanted to venture out to the beach because of the pool. Sure enough, Hadley immediately fell in love with the Marriott’s waterslide in the Main Pool and the fountains in the Kids Pool (with water depths ranging from 1 1/4-3′).

I fell in love with the Pina Colada Smoothies at the swim-up bar.

We all have our priorities.

I struck up a conversation with a mom who grew up in Puerto Rico and now lives in Florida. She brings her kids back every summer but always stays at the Marriott even before going to see their grandparents because the kids love the pool and activities.

You know it’s good when Grandma plays second-fiddle.

The activities to which she referred are housed in the towel hut by the pool. Guests can check out fun games that include a Giant Connect Four, Frisbee, Giant Tick Tack Toe, Giant Dominoes, Bowling for Kids, Beach Volleyball and numerous board games. There is also a different activity schedule posted poolside each day for adults and kids that include Arts and Crafts on Saturday & Sundays, Cookie decorating, Bingo, Yoga lessons, Zumba, Beach volleyball, Limbo for the Kids, face painting and more.

Beach

Much to my delight, Hadley loved Codondo Beach as well. Protected by a natural rock barrier, the beach is modest and under-crowded.

Haddie and I built lumps of sand we passed off as sand castles, drank a gallon of salt water as we catapulted over the swells and munched on crunchy coconut ice cream intermixed with sand, sunshine and happiness.

The Glorious, Glorious Food

I fell in love with Puerto Rican food. These tropical masterpieces’ roots are infused in cooking traditions from Spain, Africa, Amerindian Taínos and heaven.

Trust me on that latter locale.

A couple of our favorite restaurants:

Raices

I have been obsessed with plantains since I discovered them on my honeymoon and Raices restaurant in Old San Juan offered satiation at its best. The lively atmosphere is a bit touristy but they do a great job incorporating local customs with the colorful decor and staff uniforms.

Our appetizer plate, Boricula Festival, gave a great sampling of indulges that include cassava and cheese fritters, fried corn stick, fried cassava stick and plantains.

Mofongo is Puerto Rico’s signature dish and is a must-try for first-time visitors. Served on a bed of mashed plantains you have a choice of succulent beef, chicken or seafood. Raices’ version was the best I ever had.

OK, it was the only one I’ve ever had.

But I just can’t imagine how it could get much better.

Jam

Another must-visit restaurant is Jam. When my daughter and I walked into this ultra-cool and modern eatery, I immediately identified everything she could destroy in the room. It’s tough to say who was more delighted to discover the kid room tucked away at the back of the restaurant with toys and movies.

The extensive children’s menu included a number of drink selections (“Kid Tails”) dedicated to the younger set. Haddie sipped a Chocotini (chocolate and white milk with spiraled syrup in a martini glass) and dined on grilled churrasco strips with crispy tostones (fried plantains).

I sampled a number of different dishes, my favorite being a veritable cup of heaven: white bean soup with truffle oil. Pineapple Buanelos rolled in sweet coconut with Puerto Rican rum sauce topped off the gastronome evening.

Ristorante Tuscany

Ristorante Tuscany is the San Juan Marriott’s formal dining enclave and boasts a specially designed menu of Northern Italian cuisine fused with Latino culture. It was a perfect send-off for my final dinner. The Marriott does not offer on-site kids clubs except during the holidays so attentive, nurturing and fun Nanny on Call PR was brought in to throw the kids a Pizza Party in an adjacent room.

While the kids played games, watched movies and had their hair French braided, I dined on dishes such as Pear and Gorgonzola Salad with Fiocchi Pasta, Fettucine Michelangelo and Grilled Filet Mignon with Barolo sauce.

Julian, the San Juan Marriott’s Director of Marketing, delighted me with tales of the Marriott dynasty and his Australian upbringing. He divulged that as a young child, his mother often served him raw strips of beef for snacks.

Good thing Puerto Rico is much more civilized.

Revealed: A Picky Eater’s Innermost Thoughts

An important General Conference tradition (in addition to listening to our church leaders via sattelite) is the food that accompanies it.

At least that was the case until Jamie’s parents moved to Utah and our Sunday-morning breakfast tradition of blueberry muffins, sausage and eggs was dead.

That is why I was thrilled when my friend Eva asked if her family of eight could watch at our place. In return for offering up our TV, she brought fruit, cinnamon buns, sausage, bacon and juice.

Can you say no-brainer?

I threw in some homemade caramel applesauce, an apple tart, eggs and pumpkin oatmeal chocolate chip cookies so we had quite the feast.

Jamie, the kids and I snacked all day. By dinnertime, I desperately wanted something light and healthy so opted to serve yogurt parfaits. I made granola for the first time, chopped strawberries and blueberries and let the children build their parfaits with their favorite yogurt.

They both loved it and couldn’t believe *this* was dinner.

As Hadley was polishing off her final bites, she exclaimed:

“Huh.”
“What, Hadley?” I queried.
“I just thought it was your job to make dinner I don’t like.”

Sad thing is she meant it as a compliment.

An Attitude of Gratitude

On Monday, I had one of those days. All of life’s stresses caught up with me and I was just plain tired. Tired of always getting volunteered and no one else stepping up. Frustrated at being forced to say “no” just to keep my head above water. Exhausted at feeling like I’m juggling so many things that I cannot possibly give them my all. Tired of my knee that has grown progressively worse and is on the cusp of rendering me incapable of doing the activities I love. Tired of Jamie’s 15-hour work days, of clients who don’t pay on time and feeling financially strapped again and again. For feeling like we are constantly working and yet never getting ahead.

It was the culmination of several months of spinning so furiously on an axis you could almost feel the whirl of the universe. And I just wanted it to stop.

I purposefully have nothing on my calendar this week. I went to lunch in Golden with some of my besties: Lisa, Eva and Jennefer. We grabbed sandwiches and sat overlooking Clear Creek. We talked about nothing and yet it meant everything. We strolled the path watching the remnants of summer slip into autumn’s free-spirited, golden-tinged magnificence.

That afternoon, I played with Bode–Candy Land, then Sorry. I marveled at his generosity to offer me his turn when I was losing, to always bolster me up when I was down. When Hadley came home from school she selflessly divulged all the details of her day. We read her new library books and for the first time, she did not resist doing her homework. We grilled burgers and ate outside. During dinner, I announced we were going to talk about gratitude for Family Home Evening.

Last weekend was our church’s semi-annual General Conference where our leaders gather to impart wisdom and inspiration to people all over the world. President Thomas S. Monson’s talk about gratitude struck a chord with me.

We can lift ourselves, and others as well, when we refuse to remain in the realm of negative thought and cultivate within our hearts an attitude of gratitude…If ingratitude is be numbered among the serious sins, then gratitude takes its place among the noblest of virtues. Someone has said that gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all others.

I asked everyone to go around the table and say two things for which they are grateful. In a sweet, fleeting moment (and without prompting), we all separately expressed our gratitude for our family, health and God’s beautiful creations–a reminder of what truly matters.

We played soccer with the kids as we watched the coral sun slip behind the cerulean mountains. The children grew stronger with each kick, their enthusiasm and laughter echoing into the night air. Soon, all that was above us was the deepness and vastness of an ebony sky.

That night as we snuggled in bed, we read about Mrs. Frizzle’s whimsical adventures in the Magic School Bus and Lehi’s dream about sharing the fruit from the Tree of Life with his family. Bode and Hadley marveled at every word. I felt charmed and blessed. President Monson:

My brothers and sisters, to express gratitude is gracious and honorable; to enact gratitude is generous and noble; but to live with gratitude ever in our hearts is to touch heaven.

That night, I finally felt it: the still in the spinning.

And heaven seemed just a little bit closer.

The party, the trip and the pumpkin (in that order)

The Party
October has kicked off in typical Canuck fashion: chaos. On Wednesday, I hosted a Mile High Mamas party at the Denver Museum of Nature & Science to showcase their new Amazon exhibit.

The Trip
Thursday and Friday, I flew to California courtesy of Nintendo for a focus group with some of their other ambassadors. While there, we got to preview Wii Party, a board-game-esque with over 80 hilarious mini-games. It’s such a hoot that I’ve resolved to buy two extra Wii remotes so our entire family can play it. I’m sure Bode will be first in line.

Well, except it doesn’t involve his beloved Mario.
(The ladies in attendance: Amber from Nintendo, Gwen Bell, me, Janet, Marsha, Sizzle, Denise, Julie, Tracey Clark, Justine, Nintendo staff.)

The Pumpkin
I arrived home around midnight on Friday and Saturday was the weigh-off for pumpkin #2. As much fun as it was to hang out in the hot sun for four hours last weekend, I told Jamie to call us when his pumpkin was close to being weighed. He did just that 45 minute prior so I loaded up the troops and headed way up north.

I underestimated the amount of time it would take to get there and that Jamie would actually have gas in his car (he had borrowed my SUV to haul the pumpkin).

Here’s the thing about my dearly beloved: the man enjoys driving with only 1/4 of a tank of gas. It literally drives me nuts whenever I borrow his car because I have to waste time to get gas.

Only this time, there was no time.

Jamie called when we were an hour into our drive and close to nowhere.

“Where are you? My pumpkin is about to be weighed”
“Stall them. We’re not close and I have to stop for gas.”
“If you stop for gas, you’ll miss the whole thing.”

Then panic set in. I was driving unfamiliar roads and Jamie had to talk me through the process. I had already showed the children my below-empty gauge and told them to say a little prayer so we wouldn’t run out of gas.

If it worked for the loaves and fishes, it could work for multiplying the properties of petroleum.

Bode started freaking out, chanting “GAS STATION GAS STATION” over and over.

We arrived (barely running on gas fumes) just as Jamie’s pumpkin was being loaded up. We raced out of the car, all the while muttering about the nightmare it was to get there. Who on earth would live in this forsaken place?

Amy of Crunchy Domestic Goddess, that’s who.

She lives just down the road, saw the sign for the giant pumpkin weigh-off and figured I would probably be there.

Sad but very true.

In the end, Jamie’s second pumpkin weighed in at a respectable 868 pounds and his buddy Pete set a new Colorado state record: 1,306 lbs.


Both impressive but not nearly as exciting as the build-up to get there.

A Tale of Two Pumpkins

Saturday was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

Jamie had high hopes for this season and at one point, his pumpkin, “Redemption Boy,” was on track to weigh 1,100 pounds.

Until its growth started tanking in September.

In the end, Jamie hoped to just break 1,000 pounds, which would have been very possible because it was measuring out to weigh around 955 pounds.

In giant-pumpkin growing, pumpkins can either go “light” or “heavy” in either direction. It is impossible to know which way it will skew until it finally hits the scales.

Jared’s Nursery hosts the weigh-off and has beefed up the event to also include a Fall Festival with goodies such as a haunted house, obstacle course, s’mores, food and face painting.


Jamie is part of the Rocky Mountain Giant Vegetable Growers Group that organizes the event. In addition to giant pumpkins, there were also pears, watermelon and squash so freakishly large you’d swear you had been plunked onto the set of Honey, I Shrunk the Kids.



Anticipation was high when it was time for Jamie’s pumpkin to get weighed in.


Well, for some of us. In Bode’s defense, Super Mario passes the time when you’re stuck in the hot sun for four hours.

Like a nervous new papa, Jamie watched as they loaded up his pumpkin and placed it on the Biggest Loser-esque scale.

Only on this scale, you want big numbers.

Unfortunately for Jamie, he didn’t get them. His pumpkin went 16% light and only weighed in at 820 pounds.


This is still impressive and his personal best but he was visibly disappointed his pumpkin did not break 1,000 pounds. However, he still has another pumpkin to be weighed at yet another competition this weekend.

Such is my life during the fall.

The kids entered their pumpkin as well. Shockingly,their 208.5-pound pumpkin not only won but it set a new Colorado state record in the children’s division.

Bode was busy scoring five goals (!) at his soccer game so Hadley was their sole representative. However a few minutes prior to the awards ceremony, her upper left leg got stung by a bee rendering her incapable of walking. Or so she thought.

When her name was called, Hadley dramatically limped to the stage, further augmenting the cheers as I’m sure people thought “How amazing that little invalid girl grew that big pumpkin!” She even forced a smile. She is, after all, a crowd-pleaser.


And I may-or-may-not have threatened her to do so.


What prizes did the kids win for such an accomplishment?

A membership into the Rocky Mountain Giant Vegetable Growers Group and a bag of fertilizer. Oh, and a club T-shirt that should have read:

I won the state title and all I got was some cow dung and this crappy T-shirt.

It’s a Denver Pumpkin Parrrrrrrrr-tay!

If you hate pumpkins, do not return to this blog until after October. Wait. Even after all the pumpkin parties and the weigh-offs, there is fall soil prep, winter seed obsession and it starts all over again with spring planting.

If you don’t like pumpkins, you simply will not like this blog.

Or cool chicks who spray-paint orange streaks in their hair for the festivities.

It has been a whirlwind week of pumpkins and more pumpkins that is best documented in pictures.

Friday was our 2nd Annual Big Pumpkin Party.


When my blogging bud JoAnn told someone she was going to a big pumpkin party, her friend commented it sounded like a huge crowd.

“No,” she replied. “I mean a BIG PUMPKIN party.”

And that it was.

But it was also big as in “a whole lotta people in attendance.” We estimate we had around 80-100 people stop by.

This year, I requested that guests bring their favorite pumpkin treat and lo did they deliver.

We had pumpkin gingerbread trifle, cakes, fudge, pies, crisp, ice cream, cookies and the crowd favorite: pumpkin egg rolls.

In addition to eating Everything Pumpkin, the itinerary at a Big Pumpkin Party consisted of cutting the pumpkins off the vine and hauling them. We started with Haddie and Bode’s pumpkin.



Next was the bigger challenge: Redemption Boy. And yes, Jamie names his pumpkins. This nomenclature was in reference to his pumpkin that got wiped out last year by the tornado.

He grows his giants on the property behind our house. Our neighbor has a forklift and that is exactly what was needed to haul this beast. First item of business: putting on the lifting straps.

Next, they hooked it up to the forklift. Special thanks to our friend Andy for saving Jamie’s life by driving.


(Jamie somehow thought he could operate it after a mere 5-minute lesson. Cough, cough)

Once it was successfully hooked up, Jamie checked the bottom of the pumpkin for any cracks that would disqualify it from competition. Believe it or not, people cheat by injecting water to increase the weight.


Once he gave it the thumbs-up, the crowd erupted into cheers. Actually, the highlight of the entire evening for me (besides all the pumpkin food) was seeing how enraptured everyone was by the process.


Except for Bode. My shy little guy was overwhelmed by all the people and kept begging me to go home and watch Wipeout. When the ceremony was completed, I let him do it with the promise that he would imagine the big balls as big pumpkins.


If you’ve never watched Wipeout, you will have no idea what that means.

Even the media made an appearance at the Big Pumpkin Party to interview Jamie.


I’ll be sure to include that link once it is published. He was also interviewed by the Mormon Times. I was responsible for pitching the story to both publications.

Just call me the Pumpkin’s Publicist.

Though as the event wound down, my neighbor Keith christened me, “The First Lady of the Pumpkin.”


Though no one will ever come close to being The Lord of the Gourds.

Stay tuned for the disappointments and triumphs of the big weigh-off.

And I thought I was only PG-rated

My sister-in-law Jane emailed me to say she logged onto my blog this morning to find out the details on The Great Pumpkin’s final weight.

(As a side note, I will post this information just as soon as I have a minute. I’ve been kinda busy with pumpkin parties, weigh-offs and in-laws).

Anyhew, for the first time, she was blocked by her work’s web administration. The message she received:

This site has been blocked by digital security because classified under the P*ornography category.

Consider yourselves warned.

When you can’t argue with that logic

Because it the most important week of the year for the Canuck Clan, everything is falling apart at the seams.

Bode has been battling a cough and stuffy nose and Hadley woke up yesterday with a sore throat.

This is all in time for the pumpkin festivities this weekend and the Cavalia preview tonight. This equestrian counterpart to the Cirque du Soleil is THE must-attend-event of the fall.

And we may not be attending it.

We put the kids to bed early last night and hoped to let them sleep a bit later so they could stay out tonight. Fat Kitty had another plan when he woke Hadley up at 6 a.m., who then returned the favor to Bode.

Fat Kitty is in the doghouse.

Not exactly a good place for a cat to be.

I am battling killer allergies, exhaustion and what I hope will not be the start of a cold so I kept Bode home from preschool with me. Activities are limited when sick and unmotivated so I let him watch back-to-back episodes on TV. After three, I cut him off.

“Mommy, I want to watch more.”
“You’ve already watched too many.”
“I only watched one!”
“You watched THREE.” (And proceeded to list them off.)
“Dat’s not too many.”
“Oh really? So what is?”
“100.”

It’s going to be a long day.

Does obsessing about not obsessing make you an obsessor?

I’m usually a busy gal but the next two weeks, I’ll be drowning. Last week, I barely survived a gubernatorial forum I helped coordinate (details at Mile High Mamas today)
(Some of my fellow bloggers and me hanging out with Dan Maes, Republican candidate for governor.)

Tomorrow, my in-laws are coming into town for a week. The reason? It’s the big Pumpkin Party on Friday and weigh-off on Saturday. I’m doing a contest at Mile High Mamas: guess the Great Pumpkin’s weight. The closest person will win 10 tickets to Elitch Garden’s Fright Fest. If you’re not local, I have a $25 Target gift card up for grabs.

It’s taking a lot of self-control not to use that one for myself.

Add the pumpkin chaos to that fact we’ll be juggling both kids’ soccer games, preview night at acclaimed Cavalia, a quickie trip to California next week and oh, did I mention my in-laws are in town?

Good times!

I still haven’t had time to address my Asian spammer problem in my comment section so that still remains temporarily closed. Facebook has provided a fabulous avenue for friend/reader feedback but little did I know, last week would produce a doozy by my simple status update:

Does the fact I’m obsessing over not obsessing that Jamie put the toilet paper roll on backwards mean that I am, in actuality, obsessing?

Seem like a (un)reasonable question, right? Let me clarify something for those of you who are poisoning this world with your incorrect practices.

The right way:
The wrong way:

Read the responses it solicited.

-Aubrey yes. haha.
– Paul Not at all, no normal person does that.
-Steve Which way is backwards? Over or under?
-Tami LOL! That drives me insane! Except the last time it was put on backwards, my 5 year old put it on. Suddenly, it was incredibly cute to have the toilet paper roll on backwards.
-Mona uhhhmm NO!! 🙂
-Shana Backwards? My mom and brother used to argue about the ‘proper’ way to put toilet paper on the the holder. My answer: “it is bum-wipe. Who cares??”
-Me Backwards is under, of course!
-Dori It HAS to go over, definitely!
-Chris Haha! I’ve posted about the same thing – so no, you’re not obsessing. 😉
And that’s right, backwards is UNDER! Danny puts it on that way every time, and I immediately turn it over, every time. We’ll probably still be doing it when we’re 100
Stacey There is nothing wrong with obsessing about some things – the toilet paper roll being on backwards (or under) will cause me to lose sleep!
-Cheryl I even will turn the toilet paper over in other people’s homes. But I don’t obsess.
-Dori That is hilarious, Cheryl!!! I’m glad you’re not the obsessive type! LOL.
-Kellie LOL – one of my kids put it on backwards last week and I had to tie my hands down to keep from switching it to the “right” way.
-David Having traveled extensively, I now realize there are two kinds of people in the world: Those who prefer toilet paper “over the top” and those who do it wrong.
-Keith Did you actually change it? There is an easy way to stop the obsession. Just get the kind of toilet paper holder that is like a hook where you can slide the roll on and off so it’s an easy fix and is never a big deal.
-Me I did not change it. Doing so would be like admitting I have a problem. 🙂
-Lori Amber sweety… It’s OK. I don’t want your brain to break!
-David Amber, changing it simply means Jamie has a problem and you are fixing it.
-Paul No, Amber, you would be FIXING the problem.
-Camille This is also a pet peeve at our house.
-Kaylene Which way is backwards? That is the question of the day? My way is always backwards to most of the world. Luckily Mark and I are the same when it comes to this issue.
-Shana Oh…….. this whole thing is SOOOOOOOOO funny
-Lisa After obsessing on this for a while, I would say… yes.
-Kaylene I started doing it with the paper coming out from under because then my kiddos couldn’t start running through the house with it coming off the top. I never returned to the normal way. I am doomed.
– David I vote we all get together and TP Kaylene’s house because she is one of “them”. jk.
-Kaylene I could use a year’s supply…
-Jen Hey, at least he puts it on! Never happens here!
-Me Don’t worry, Kaylene. We’ll just sent Cheryl over to your house. As she’s already confessed, she changes other people’s TP rolls, too.

============

It’s nice to know I’m not the only one who needs OCD therapy.

I ♥ my friends!

When in Exile: Virginia Beach or Bust Part II

Prior to reading this, be sure to check out When in Exile: Virginia Beach or Bust Part I to find out how we so admiringly made lemonade out of Hurricane Earl’s sour lemons.

These two are to blame thank for our entire trip to the Outer Banks, our evacuation and welp, my entire sordid existence.

And all of their existences, too.


(Back: Brother Pat, sister-in-law Jane, Bode, brother Jade, Jamie, Moi, cousin Emily, Ashton, baby Naomi. Frontish: Mom, cousin Jaxon, Dad, cousin Connor, Haddie and Arianna).

My brother Jade now lives in New Jersey and is well-acquainted (or at least better-acquainted) with Virginia Beach and led us down to the waterfront. Over 40 high-rise hotels lined the beach as roller-bladers, joggers and multi-person bikes for 2, 4 and even 6 people zoomed along the bike path.

Though it was Labor Day weekend, the area was still recovering from the storm and the small seaside amusement park was closed.

And so we took in the boardwalk.


I was moderately taken with it all until I attempted to shop in one of the many tacky tourist shops. Then some areas became overcome by drunken revelries. My distaste deepened when the pier we wanted to check out charged money.


Last I checked, “spectating” was free.


At least that is how it was in the glorious and pristine Outer Banks.

We’ll be back.