We just got back from our 6.5 weeks in Aruba last night. We flew into Boston and had to stop for dinner and drive another 1.5 hours to New Hampshire. THE Daddy picked us up at the airport and we were very excited to see him.

A few observations:

The obvious is DAMN it’s cold here!

My brain wanted to explode last night. Being transplanted from the serenity of Aruba to a city where traffic was driving 70+ mph swerving in and out…all the while seeing the lights and the buildings. Very over-stimulating.

It feels strange to enter an environment again where everyone speaks just English…and they all speak so quickly! I actually asked for “awa” at dinner instead of water and said “danki” at least once accidentally instead of thank you. I remember having this problem the last time I spent 5 weeks there. I can’t remember how long it lasted.

(At 3:30pm…where was my sangria/margarita and why was I not hanging by the pool...reality check)

My Honda Odyssee kicks ass over the shit box we rented for my last week there.  It was a little foreign Chevy thing.  A standard where the clutch point was so high that I would hit my knee on the dash.  And the gerbils running the engine were gasping for their last breaths. 

I am back to a life that expects me to juggle 20 balls in the air at once. Thank God I decided to take today off with the kids. We seriously need to acclimate a bit. Princess will start kindergarten tomorrow for a ½ day and BamBam will start preschool on Monday. We are booked solid for the next 4 days.

There is a certain energy here. I don’t know if it is the way of life or if people are just so cooped up inside because it’s so cold. Everyone seems hyped up a notch or two. Maybe that’s my lack of Starbucks addiction…I wonder how long it will take before I drive thru for my first latte?

Any advice on how to wrestle a 2 year old into multiple layers of clothing? He already tried to take his shirt off at the restaurant so that he wouldn’t get it “old”…BamBam speak for “dirty”.  Note to self: Start that BamBam dictionary. He speaks such a weird mix of English, Spanish, Papiamento and BabyTalk. Nobody is going to understand the poor kid!

Another question. How do I get Princess to refrain from telling her (Catholic School) teachers that she wants to be a Hooters girl when she grows up?! We went there for dinner one night to take a follow up picture of BamBam with the girls.  He had one taken when he was a baby and I had requests for another. In her defense, they were very sweet and taught her how to hoola hoop.

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