Category: My Life List

Take Hank Camping, Check.

I grew up camping — fresh-picked blackberries and cream, sodas chilling in the creek, bug bites so profuse that I looked infectious. I figured Hank would be a natural outdoorsman.

He was a champ for the five-hour drive, and happy enough through camp set up. I kneeled for a kiss when we’d finished pitching the tent. He took my face in his hands, cocked his little head, and said, “We can go home?”

I figured he’d come around once he’d spent some time in the dirt with all his older cousins, and he did. A little. Unfortunately, he grew increasingly upset when they took occasional bike rides and left him behind. His lip quivered, his eyes welled, “We can go home, pease? Pease?”

We cuddled him. He asked to go home. We tickled him. He suggested we play tickle in the car. We hung him upside down by his feet. He thought that might be more fun if we left and tried it someplace else. Someplace like our apartment. So we pulled out the big guns:

When we were done with the water fight, Hank looked around and gave an unhappy sigh. We scooped him up and took him to the river where he was content to throw rocks for a couple hours. Then his cousin caught a fish. Oh dear. Hank examined the fish, touched it, and said, “Now that fishy go swim again,” and pointed to the water. Uhhh. I distracted him from the concept of death by making high-pitched noises and unattractive goofy faces while we exited the scene, but when he realized we were no longer by the water?

“We go home now. Now. Nooooow. NOOOOOOOW!”

We muddled through the day, but soon it began to dawn on him that there was no way to go inside when it got dark. His face twisted into a mask of such extreme toddler frustration, I’m certain he would have cursed like a sailor in a tattoo parlor if he’d had any expletives at his disposal. Instead he cried for a while, and Bryan cuddled him to sleep in the tent.

The following day was much the same, with a slightly more dramatic bedtime scene. But Hank woke the second morning refreshed. Say! He had a great idea. How about we all get in the truck? From there we could go home! No? What are we doing now? Getting ready to go home, he hoped. Are we going there now? He would enjoy that.

After an hour or two of subtle coercion, Hank asked me to lift him into his car seat, and then simply refused to be moved. His forlorn toddler face said it all:

So instead of staying another day, we cut the kid a break and packed up the campsite. My sister assured me that this was a passing phase. Her kids didn’t like to camp at Hank’s age; toddlers like routine. Meanwhile, Hank perched in his car seat with a matchbox truck and his sippey cup for nearly two hours while we packed. I have never seen him display such patience with anything that wasn’t shaped like a TV.

So, I’m crossing “Take Hank Camping” off my Mighty Life List. Next I think we’ll all go out to sushi and then head to the Opera. I’ll let you know how that goes.

Small Differences Between Puerto Rico and Home

First, the crucial beverage differences:

  • On the whole, pre-packaged beverage servings are much smaller — serving-size cans of juice are only about 4 oz. The photo above is of big juice cans. I love that label design.
  • Related: you can get tiny Coronas called “Coronitas.” They are adorable.
  • Stores sell milk in juice box packaging. Which wouldn’t be that unusual I guess, but they’re everywhere.
  • A “fruit punch” is likely to be made up of actual tropical juices, even if you buy it in a can. This makes rum punch dangerously easy to mix, even if you have no business mixing yet another rum punch, Maggie.
  • Melissa orders a beer. The waitress just pops the top of the can and sets it down in front of her. I’m amazed by this. I’ve been living in a big city too long.

Non-liquid differences::

  • That burrito? It’s full of hummus. Melissa ordered it knowingly, despite vigorous head shaking on my part.
  • Cars drive by open-air restaurants blaring advertising out of speakers on top.
  • Our airplane ticket for the ride back to Old San Juan was handwritten.
  • There are iguanas crawling through the grass on the side of the road.

  • I took this photo from the car. Wild horses are everywhere in Vieques, often standing in the road.
  • Little lizards are everywhere too. Like on the wall behind my pillow. Where I sleep at night.
  • People grow cacti in long rows to use as fences for small livestock.
  • Had I not made a When Harry Met Sally point of it, my nachos would have come with corn on them.

  • The pool at our hotel wasn’t chlorinated, so swimming was like taking a bath.
  • Bats swooped over the pool at night to eat insects off the surface. This made Melissa nervous at first, but I assured her that they could see us, and wouldn’t come near us. On our last night we lingered too long in the pool, and the bats got frustrated. So one dive-bombed my face. It came inches from my mouth, and I could hear the leathery wing flaps, and feel the leathery wing air.

*Intel is giving me more to write about by sponsoring my Mighty Life List over the next few months. They paid for my trip to Puerto Rico, so they’re indirectly responsible for any bat flashbacks I may have for the next several months.

Packing Light: Puerto Rico Edition

This is every item of clothing I packed for eight days in Puerto Rico, minus my traveling dress and sweater, which somehow escaped my camera.

Regular readers know I like to pack light, so my goal for this trip was to fit everything in a carry-on suitcase and my laptop backpack. This is relatively easy to do if you’re going somewhere warm and casual, but Melissa was still surprised by how much I managed to cram into my bag.

This is a green dress I bought at H&M shortly after I had Hank. I love it, because the front pleat is very tummy forgiving, and that’s the area I worry about most, especially post-baby. When it’s not belted, it’s a comfy, loose shift. The purse is a thrift find; it’s lined with a spectacular hunting scene.

These peacock feather earrings are from Claire’s, and I love them.

The skinny gunmetal belt is J Crew. Versatile, ladies.

These simple, functional flats are my sneakers. They’re ideal for travel because they go with everything, you can step right out of them at airport security, and they flatten completely in your bag. I don’t like blisters while I’m out exploring, and you don’t need to “break them in,” which is really just code for “my shoes are defective.” What other item of clothing could make you bleed without giving you just cause to return it for a full refund? Girl shoes piss me off.

Anyway, I’ve gone through three pairs of these magic flats, and I’ve raved about them before on Mighty Goods. They’re by Navid o Nadia.

I bought this BP dress for Blogher very early in my pregnancy. It has a subtle stripe of blue and green that you can’t see in the photo, and it has proven to be a great layering piece. I can do tights (or slim pants), boots and a little jacket if it’s cold. On warm days, wearing this is like pulling on a T-shirt and walking out the door without worrying about finding pants. Dresses are magic.

This skirt is a vintage piece begging for a West Side Story dance number — quintessential Puerto Rico. The ribbed tank is from Old Navy.

These are my indestructible Saltwater Sandals, which I grew up wearing. I’ve had this pair for years. They come in tons of colors, and again, zero blisters. They’re made for walking on the beach, so sand isn’t an issue — so much more pleasant than flip-flops thwacking sand against your calves.

These earrings are also from Claire’s. You definitely have to dig, but they have some great deals in there.

I bought this dress years ago in New York to supplement what I’d packed for a Morning News retreat. It’s Club Monaco, and I got it on super sale. It packs down to nothing, so I always throw it in to wear over my suit, which you can see in this photo.

Claire’s again, all from the same shopping trip. Can you tell my accessories were getting outdated?

I haven’t worn shorts in a hundred years, because of the glare. People gasp on the street and throw bottles of sunscreen at my head.

These shorts have little bronze sailor buttons up the front, which is spectacular. I’ve contemplated wearing them as bikini bottoms, because they’re kind of short for shorts, but very demure as swimsuit bottoms, eh? I forget the brand, but I had to seam-rip an enormous metal tag off the back, seriously the size of a belt buckle, so we’ll let them work their marketing magic elsewhere. The shirt is Banana Republic.

This is the very best swimsuit in the entire world. It’s by Donna Karan, and I’ve had it for three years. When retro suits made a tentative comeback, I checked in every day online until it went on sale, because I can’t justify spending over $100 on a swimsuit. Which is silly because I wear them for like a decade, but still. The most awesome thing about this awesome suit is, if you’re having a crisis of thigh confidence, you can pull down the outer layer to make it into a very short dress, like so:

Action wear! Actually, this shot makes it look a little shorter than can go. This is more illustrative:

I love it because I can wear it with a T-shirt in the hotel elevator while I’m heading to the pool, and I don’t feel totally naked. In this photo, I’m heading out to pick mangoes from the hotel fruit trees with Melissa. We made Mango cocktails to enjoy in the pool. Sounds amazing, right? But they were actually terrible. I have no idea what we did wrong, but we did it all the way. The bag is Envirosax. I have a set I use as travel totes if I can’t fit a big purse in my suitcase.

Not only did Intel sponsor my trip, they also sponsored my jammies. Leggings are from H&M, the shirt was a gift in lieu of the apparently rare Ajay Bhatt rockstar T-shirt that haunts my dreams (watch for it here at 14-16 seconds).

I’ve mentioned before that I try to pack PJs that can double as an outfit. This is what I packed in lieu of jeans, in case we got a chance to go horseback riding. We didn’t end up doing it, but I did do a lot of napping, so no harm no foul.

Regrets? Holy, holy, I should have packed a second swimsuit. We almost never left the water while I was there. I ended up with angry chafing on my side that looked like something laid eggs under my skin. I showed it to Melissa.

Melissa: GEEEEZE!
Me: I’m not going to worry unless it hatches.
Melissa: Signs your Prozac is Working too Well.

Also, it’s great to have flip flops to wear as slippers. I always regret not throwing in some flip flops.

Next trip I’ll tell you what’s in my toiletries bag too. It’ll be like sneaking a look at my medicine cabinet when you’re drunk at a dinner party, but without all the dental floss. See you then.

Swim with Bioluminescent Plankton in Puerto Rico? Check.

We hop into a pickup bed filled with sandy, damp life jackets, and they bump against our shins on the dirt road to the beach.

Melissa and I are headed to Mosquito Bay in Vieques, one of most dense bioluminescent bays in the world. It’s teeming with microscopic organisms that light up when they’re disturbed. There are only eleven “biobays” in the world, nine of which are in Puerto Rico.

Ricky, one of the guides, is riding in back with us. He says his job never gets old.

He tells us about raindrops that seem to spark as they hit the water, how schools of fish leave light streams in their wake. I imagine a giant, glowing shark silhouette swimming toward our tiny kayak. Hmm.

We arrive at the beach, and don our gritty life jackets.

The air is suddenly spiky. “What is that?” I ask Melissa. She points to a tiny grain of sand on my forearm. It bites me. We’re covered in vicious, biting mites. Does the guide have any insect repllant? He does, but we can’t use it if we want to swim, it kills the plankton. Baby oil is fine though, and it works great! Does he have any of that? No.

We wade into the water to escape while our guides ready the kayaks.

I’ve adventurously stuffed all my camera equipment into plastic trash bags inside my backpack. Climbing into the open-top kayak, I decide not to think about what might happen if we tip over, because we aren’t going to tip over. Right, Melissa? Melissa, has never been in a kayak before, but we’ll be fine. I’m certain we’ll be fine. Right, Melissa? Melissa avoids eye contact.

We paddle out to the bay and tie the kayaks together to wait for nightfall. Our guide tells us about the dinoflagellates we’ve come to see, single-cell organisms that have the ability to photosynthesize. They’re technically neither plant nor animal. Cool.

I ask the guide if he’ll take our photos when we get in the water, maybe a little video. He warns me that it’s nearly impossible to capture the glow on film. Now he tells me.

We climb out of the boat, and gradually a soft glow gathers around our limbs as we tread water. A few moments later there are sparks and glowing bubbles flying from our fingertips. It looks exactly as you’d imagine pixie dust would look if you were to encounter Tinkerbell in the wild. “I can fly!” I say. I can’t stop laughing. Melissa sweeps her arms through the water and whispers, “I’m a priiiiincess!” We make light saber sounds, hum dramatic overtures as we conduct under water. I lift my hands above the surface, and loose-diamonds tumble down my arms.

As it turns out, our guide was right about the photos. I lightened one so you could get an idea of what the glow looks like. I’m going to blow this up to wall-mural size and hang it above my bed:

I want so much to show you what it was like, but you have to see for yourself. It is amazing. Here’s a little video of us riding back in the truck:

If you can, you have to do this. Go find your swimsuit. Get in the truck.

(Our tour was through Vieques Tours. They were nice, and one of the guides bought the two of us popsicles while we waited for the cars to arrive. Aww. 787.447.4104)

Many thanks to the folks at Intel. They’re making my site more interesting by sponsoring my Mighty Life List over the next few months. They paid for this trip of a lifetime, and I can’t thank them enough.

Home

Puerto Rico was warm, and fun, and happy. It’s not tough to make Melissa laugh, and I’m an easy audience myself, so the sensation of coughing up aspirated Coca-Cola will forever remind me of Old San Juan.

Tomorrow, I’ll tell you about swimming with the glowing plankton (amazing), but for now I’m cuddling my kid and marveling at how much extra weight you can pack on in a single week of cheese fries for breakfast. Who knew?

In other news, Melissa’s luggage was lost againon the way home. Bwah? Melissa refuses to own more than ten items of clothing at once, so the universe is trying to shove her headfirst at the nearest Old Navy. The universe obviously doesn’t know Melissa’s will, or how particular she is about her T-shirts. She’s wearing wool in July while she waits. Melissa, our thoughts are with you.

Intel is making my site more interesting by sponsoring my Mighty Life List over the next few months. They paid for my trip to Puerto Rico, which was just as good as it sounds. Thanks, Intel.

Taste 1,000 Fruits: Tamarind

This is a tamarind pod.

Inside, the pod has a paste-like brown fruit around its seeds.

It doesn’t look particularly appetizing.

The fruit is very sour, but not like a lemon. There’s sweetness there too. It tastes almost like Crystal Light powder. But more delicious.

You suck the fruit away from the seeds. They’re hard, and clack together in your hand, almost like heavy coffee beans. Delicious.

Intel is making my site more interesting by sponsoring my Mighty Life List over the next few months. This trip to Puerto Rico is adding a few more fruits to my 1,000 fruits list.

Life List: Glowing plankton

I’m writing from Puerto Rico. Ay! Ay!

Intel sent me here so I can swim with bioluminescent plankton. It’s pretty OK.

Bryan is busy running his startup, and Hank has a toddler’s commitment to routine, so with the help of a few frequent flyer miles, Melissa met me at the San Juan airport. Her luggage was lost, so I tried to make her feel better by taking her shopping. There was a wide selection at the local gift shops, but she was dubious.

This pair of shoes had zippers up the back. In case you had to get out of your shoes. Like, immediately.

She disdained the classics on offer, even though I told her we would hardly ever come into contact with escalators on the island.

How cute would this be with a lei? Right? I know!

And as the day wore on, she started to come around.

But just when I’d convinced her to trust my sartorial instinct, her bag showed up. She unpacked her Land’s End swimsuit and held it to her face while she wept softly. I poured celebratory glasses of wine, and we headed up to the roof to watch the sunset.

Today we left Old San Juan for Vieques, and I’m typing this on a very bumpy Ferry ride. Excuse me for a moment while I move my laptop so I can place my head between my knees. We’ll see you tomorrow.

Intel is making my site more interesting by sponsoring my Mighty Life List over the next few months. They’re paying for my trip to Puerto Rico so I can cross another dream off my list. Sponsors of Tomorrow, indeed.