Be Kind, I'm in Swimwear

I have somehow been re-wired into permanent vacation status. I am still finding it difficult to wear undergarments, and keep waiting for the cocktail waitress to show up. I keep asking what the "drink of the day" is today, but no one will answer me. Rude.


In our usual style, the trip to Punta Cana was done on a whim, and we didn't put a ton of planning or thought to the week. It turned out great, solidifying my theory of poor planning as a rule. Our fam works better on the fly with the flexibility. (This is the reason I can't get my Disney on. The Disney planning guides make me curl up in a fetal position, muttering "It's a small, small world...")  Flying by the seat of our pants is a family layer, although I may inspire it.


I have had this post started for way too long now, and it just needs to get done so I can move on to other aspects of my thrilling life. Below are a few shots from the trip, to let you see the resort you'll be staying at on your next beach adventure. It was called Dreams, and it was Dreamy. And hot. 


We upgraded to a Junior Suite. The Baboos immediately made themselves at home. 

The robe was too long, but the slippers....ahhh.
He has a pretty rough life, you know! He needs
to be pampered.

We have an all inclusive package, which included 8 restaurants and all drinks. The food was pretty good, and offered the normal fare that kids like. The biggest downside was that there was something awry with the air conditioning, which made the restaurants *hot*, and not in that "this new restaurant is HOT" kind of way. The Baboos soon learned that room service was also part of the All-Inclusive package and preferred to stay in and order while watching I-Carly in Spanish.

"Hola Carly!. Donde esta su hijo?"

Special Agent and I sweltered through the sushi place, as well as a lovely Italian restaurant while the kids stayed in (don't judge, we had Walkie-Talkies). While trying to explain to the Dominican waiter that I wanted to sit by the window, since it was trying to storm and there was a nice breeze, or that I was enjoying some cool sea air, (or that I wanted to jump out of the window, who knows?) he misunderstood my excellent grasp of their language and shut the window. The rest of the guests were really happy with me. Fail. 

Several bottles of wine later, Special Agent and I checked on the kids and enjoyed a walk. It was hot. Hot...hawt..hott..In my wine-fueled state, I decided a swim was in order. Except...

a) the pool closed at night

b) I was without swimwear

No matter. Special Agent laughed while he held my dress, looking around nervously and whispering "come on..people are walking by..." "don't go way over there, it's all lit up...." and sighing, "you have voyeuristic tendencies, woman.."  The pool was cool and luxurious, and I had it all to myself. I do not believe for one second I am the first or last skinny (ok, medium) dipper they have had at the Dreams Resort and Spa.

I spent a lot of my days here (it closes at night), and one night fateful evening
while Special Agent held my dress. I could be on YouTube, but I am not looking.

The Layers family photo - someone is probably
peeing in the pool at this very moment. 

Local wildlife

My bathing beauty baboo. Under the glasses, her
cheeks were a little scorched. Sunblock fail.

After getting scorched, we decided we had better find something to do that got us away from the pool for a day. (secretly, I think Special Agent was afraid the Dreams Police were coming to kick us out for my late night swim). So, we ventured off to do some zip lining. 

The Onion clan, getting their Zip Line on. Yes, we
made the shorter one wear a helmet eventually. 

Do I look afraid? More importantly, do I look like I have a beer belly?
While I do, I assure you, this level of belly was all shirt. 

Special Agent, showing off his manliness. Note: no umbrella, straws or jewelry
unless you count his gear.

Although the guides sweetly attached my camera to the side of my helmet, I wasn't really into taking photos while we were zip lining. Suffice to say we zipped from one platform to another, rinse and repeat. The best part for me was the trip up and back from the zip lining site, with an excellent and informative guide, showing us what the real Dominican Republic looked like. The ride was bumpy and we smiled at each other as the bus heaved and leaned. 

This darling came out to wave to the bus. We wanted to give him some items we had
brought along, but not allowed, for safety's sake. The host gave him a 2 liter of
soda instead and it made him smile.We gave our items elsewhere, but it felt like
a missed opportunity.

Back to the Bar Beach! Despite our still lingering sunburns, we hit the beach on the resort. As suspected, the baboos preferred the pool inside our resort, but we spent a little time wandering around, jumping on the water trampoline and being hounded by locals selling their wares. 


MJ, I wasn't sure which. Nope, just a lot of bad art and some shirts and trinkets. There was an unseemly massage table tucked away in the back, confirming my suspicion that we could probably get just about anything one was looking for here. Special Agent bought a t-shirt to assist with the local economy. 

This was the beachfront outside our hotel.  I worked to keep the
guy with the jewelry saying " Hey you...nice lady" out of the shot.

Our next big adventure was to take surf lessons as Macao Beach. I won't lie, I was nervous. My lack of athletic ability is well known. I can swim, but coordination is a whole other issue. 


After a prayer to the surf gods, my instructor taught me the basics. He felt my "pop up" was slow, so I had to remind him that I am 37 years old and wildly distracted by the fact he is looking at an unobstructed view of my 37 year old ass. Which ended up lobster red after this day of fun. 

  

 Macao Beach

Yes, this is really what a white girl's rear view looks like at my age.

  

I prefer me cropped, color changed and thigh-edited. 

The good news was, we all got up on our boards and my non athletic ass was actually the first to do it in the class! I showed off a little, trying to channel the movie "Blue Crush". We were highly motivated, as you can see below. 

The rest of our trip was spent within reach of the bar, below. In the instance that close chairs were "unavailable" (I hope you drown, Greek woman on the phone..) a lovely lady would also deliver to the pool. Even the baboos had some non alcoholic Pina Coladas. 

Here is a shot of the bar, complete with swings instead of bar stools.
The *FREE* drinks were brought pool side, very dangerous.

Dreams Punta Cana: Highly, highly recommended. The biggest downside is that I am now warped and cannot seem to get my blog on. And I keep asking passers by for The DRINK OF THE DAY. At 10 in the morning. Don't judge.

Is anyone listening?

Back in the Saddle..in my swimsuit

After quite a long hiatus, I am back in the blogging saddle. One would imagine that I am absolutely *bursting* with interesting blog fodder, but I will admit, I am doing a lot of blinking at the screen.

blink.

blink-blink.

I think I may be suffering from "Island-Brain", which causes the afflicted to suffer from bouts of continued laziness, desire to lay by the pool, swimming in place of showering and day-drinking.

The Dominican was a great trip. Very relaxing with a zip lining and surfing excursions (Yes, me too. In fact, I was a natural and will be joining the Rockies Chapter of the USA Surf Team). The kids were their usual level of awesomeness in the face of long travel days, and enjoyed many hours in the pool as well as the all-inclusive room service option.

The Onion family, surfing the baby waves..

Sweet Baboo #1 doing her thang. 

Like real tourists, we Northerners got a little too red in spite of our continued application of SPF 1,000 sunscreen. The Dominican mosquitoes appeared to ENJOY my skin marinated in Deep Woods Off.  We spent some time near some Irish folks, commiserating. We drank a LOT of free drinks by the pool, and on only one occasion did I hover near blackout status. It was pretty warm unless you were by the pool, prompting one moment of after dinner skinny dipping in the pool while Special Agent held my dress and played lookout.

I didn't blog.
I didn't check Facebook.
In fact, I didn't even turn on the phone.

Sweet Baboo #2 refused to cut his hair so he could have the right
surfer look for this excursion. I think he pulled it off, don't you? 

It was both nice and a little strange to unplug entirely. When I woke early, I went for a walk, checked out the flamingos, read my Kindle. As the week wore on, I felt a small amount of anxiety about not being in contact with my family and friends AT ALL, but being cheap about roaming charges won out.

The only time I really cringed that I didn't have the phone camera was when I came across a fellow traveler sitting poolside in a Euro-speedo number, who looked like an elder Zeus with flowing silver mane, a smoldering pipe (you heard me) and giant headphones over his ears. It was a missed opportunity, for certain.

I am sure he is wearing a speedo in this. Add a pipe, some
giant headphones and a lilty  Greek barrage of chatter and
you've got it.

It was interesting that during conversations, no one's phone rang, no one checked their messages. It was relaxing, uninterrupted. Why in the world are we always feeling the need to check in? In the Dominican, we unplugged for a week and you know what happened?

Nothing.

World still spun, work still continued. When we arrived in New York and turned on our phones the messages were not urgent and everyone survived without us for a week. We checked in, but I noticed we didn't have the death grip on the blackberry that we had when we flew out. I see it creeping back in, but I am trying to fight it.

"Island-Brain" isn't all bad.

 So what if I sleep in my swimsuit?

MIA at A Lot of Layers

My apologies, I have been utterly and completely MIA lately as far as posting goes. It has been several weeks of birthday celebrations, the end of school and other nonsense. I also needed a creep break after a bit of unpleasantness reminded me that truly ANYONE can read your posts. Eww. But, I am over it. Child predators, please kill yourselves.

I have been preparing and packing for our trip to the Dominican Republic, in which I have been warned agreed NOT to bring my computer (deep breaths). I have not traveled without a laptop since I can't-remember-when and it makes me feel a little veklempt.

This is the moment I realized I had tossed my Blackberry
in the suitcase at some point in the packing process 10 layers down.

 Don't tell Special Agent if I post a blog from the Blackberry. Also, don't look closely at the spelling. It is tough to type a post on those wee, tiny buttons. But I just might do it.

Listen...can you hear typing?

I also need to sneak the computer with me so I can catch up with all of your blogs. I am way behind on your witty and interesting posts. I am sure most of you can relate that each new bit of great writing means you are now following another blog. When your blogroll feels like a "to do" list you are furiously trying to accomplish, The Onion needs to get a grip. On the upside of this, you are all hilarious.

As I lounge on the couch, watching informercials of 30-day body challenges, I realize that I am about 30 days behind in the process with regard to a beach ready body. Oh well, I purposely picked an Americanized resort after a bad experience with a lot of hot Europeans several years ago on our Mexico trip. I hadn't realized real people could be that good looking.

I have never felt so American....it was the mental equivalent
of wearing black socks with sandals....

This time, I am hauling my beach chair closer to this fella:

But....(and I mean that figuratively)..I think I will sit on his other side.

Happy weekend.