Motherhood in the Raw....: 2nd Annual Betty Ford Clinic Retreat

Motherhood in the Raw....: 2nd Annual Betty Ford Clinic Retreat

2nd Annual Betty Ford Clinic Retreat

I returned last night from an amazing girls weekend in Charleston. Our journey began Thursday night, and I learned a few things about myself along the way. Apparently, I have a talent for seeking out the foulest smelling truck stop restrooms with even fouler people occupying the stalls. At one point, we happened upon one of my suggestions...... a no name gas station with a "knock off" Ryan's buffet attached to the back of the store. We all agreed that the food may be responsible for unknown disease or maybe even death. 2 bridges, and 1 asshole cop later we arrived at our destination. Friends Jen, Laura, Victoria and Kelly had been celebrating their independence from work, kids, husbands, and the mundane for the better part of the day. I joined in on the fun, and poured a tall glass of wine. It seemed so strange to think of getting up in the morning with no one to take care of except for myself, and with that thought, my hand seemed to tip that bottle of wine a little heavier. By midnight, my head was swirling from more than the drive and lack of sleep.

I surrendered to my fatigue around 2:30am, my mind dancing around visions of my family sleeping soundly in their beds. I missed them.

The next morning, armed with a cooler of coronas and a pile of celebrity scandal rags we made our way to the pool's edge. The water and conversation were refreshing, and I day dreamed of spending every weekend just like this. By that afternoon friends Pamela and Izzie had joined us, and we all continued bonding through stories of childhood, celebrity breakups, and life's passions. Women are the best conversationalists.

The morning light found me, and my feet searched for the hardwood floors lightly dusted in beach sand. I decide to head out for a run. The sound of the waves curling back and retreating to the ocean lull me into a deep state of clarity. I realize, that I am alone. My feet seem to slow, and I am pulling off my sweat soaked socks. The water seems to soothe my feet and soul. I am walking on clusters of vibrant seashells that crunch under each step. My mind wanders again, and I am thinking of the remarkable group of women that I am sharing my weekend with. Like the shells that randomly find their place on the beach, we all seem to have found each other in spite of our origins.

Treadmill Bitch Part Deux

With another cold snap, I was forced to run in the gym. So I park Sage next to me in her stroller, and get to running. Of course, some good friends are in there and we get to talking mid-workout about kids, life etc.. From my left, I see treadmill bitch's mother walking off the pounds. It takes me a few seconds to realize that she is yelling at me for talking over her favorite program on the TV. And she is insistent that I respect other people by not talking while they are watching television. She is enraged, and I suspect that her face is not beet-red from the treadmill. So, I remind her that this is a community gym and that if she needs to watch a TV show so badly that the privacy of her home is the best place. My friend "Sarah" explains that she is not worth the argument. I think we all just wanted her to shut-up at this point. I return to my running this time with my headphones blaring. Eventually she finshes her walking workout and heads out the door. I can't resist wishing her a nice day. With her back to me, she gives me a flick of the wrist....and what's this? The lamest "finger" that I have ever seen. Ladies, if you are going to give someone "the bird" make it count. So I did, I gave her the best "finger" that I have ever given. I mean truck drivers everywhere would be proud. This sends her into yet another rage, this time she is wagging a different finger at me and announcing her age. She pulled the old, "I'm old enough to be your mother, and respect your elders crap." Her grand finale was even better as she yelled, "F**k you, F**k you. As if, I am some young chippie. I am 30 something mother myself with 2 kids, a husband, mortgage, career. Where's my respect?!
Anywho, she ends her tyraid by trying to "file a complaint" with the poor guy that works at the reception desk. Which there is no such thing. God help us all, if we don't whisper while in the gym. Frankly, I think people like her are dangerous. Just like the library redemption, I can't get over why a person would waste such negative energy. It's self-centered people like her that are the real danger to society.

Dining Out

My friend Brandy was celebrating her birthday last night at Loca Luna, a restaurant located in midtown Atlanta. Upon arriving at the restaurant, the place was already buzzing with bachelorette and birthday parties galore! As one woman put it, "It was like a Chuck E Cheese, but for adults." The food was exceptionally flavorful, and the Sangria flowed like.......well it flowed like wine. At one point, the table emptied out for a little salsa dancing, white girl style. Although, I have to say a few of us (I'm not including myself) brought the funk with them last night, and schooled the rest of us on how to move (you know who you are). It was a fun evening, and we were thrilled to have been included. It's always a good time, when it comes to Brandy. She is as bright and promising as a moonlight in a martini. And you can't help get a little intoxicated from more than the booze when you are around her. Happy Birthday girl!

Speaking of restaurants....Alex and I decided to try a new local Mexican restaurant today. The establishment was cleverly named, Tony's Mexican Grill. The people who ran the place were stranger than their decor. I ordered the equivalent of "the speedy gonzalez" and Alex got the buffett. Just like the staff, the food was dry and lacked any taste. At one point, the waitress tried setting down a plate in front of my baby daughter. The plate was soo f'ing hot that she had to use a flipping OVEN MIT! Who does that?! So, if you are looking for a dining experience that gives you that "el bastard gringo" feeling than Tony's is your place.

Now that's what a call a playgroup

Yesterday was playgroup, so I rounded up the kids and headed on over to my friend Gina's for a little socializing. She had the usual staples found at most playgroups such as juice boxes, crackers and cheese sticks. But my favorite was THE BEER! What a mom! It was one of those early spring afternoons, soft white clouds floating on a bright blue canvas of sky. With both my children engaged with their peers, I sipped (ok guzzled) my cold longneck and swapped stories with the other moms. Now, that is what I call a playgroup!

No Good Time Goes Unpunished

After one delayed flight, and some overpriced airport meals, we returned from our jaunt to paradise at the ungodly hour of midnight. I brought back a lovely tan and about 5-7 extra pounds from all the booze and bacon I consumed. The first part of the trip turned out to be a bit tricky. My 10 month old daughter brought a nasty little cold with her, and just for shits and giggles decided to cut her first tooth. So the first 4 days were literally spent "nursing" her back to health. By the 5th day, we were able to dump both offspring in the "kids club" for a little mayhem of our own. We shared our adventures with some good friends who also brought their daughter. It was great, we spent our days lapping up frozen concoctions with dark rum, snorkeling, and swapping stories of parenthood (which explains all the drinking).

Ok, here is the strange part about little islands that were founded by Europeans and still fly under their flag. For instance, the food. Each morning next to the pancakes, and my beloved bacon there was steamed cabbage and baked beans....WTF?! And the men think nothing of letting their gut and "junk" spill out of tiny speedos. At one point, we saw a couple that looked like they swapped suit bottoms. Seriously, you have to admire a guy whose confidence is so strong in his own physic despite the fact that he could double for the wolf man.

We managed to get a sitter for a few evenings and headed into Curacao's capital city, Wilemstad. My hubby (being the good producer that he is) made reservations at the Governors House for dinner. We sat in the most amazing courtyard, with potted mangroves trees, soft candlelight, and a fountain fashioned from a large urn. Drunk on both food and spirits, we made our way to the pontoon bridge. There was a yellow guard house which had a motor to actually MOVE the bridge any time a boat needed to cross the canal. It was a surreal scene, and at one point the bridge actually started to make way for another boat WHILE we were on it!

Perhaps one of my favorite memories would have to be the dolphin encounter. There was an aquarium just a short walk from our resort. It had a shark pool, touch tanks, and a pen containing flamingos with the most vibrant shade of pink that I have ever seen. My son was captivated by the sharks, and a little leery of the dolphin. I am convinced that our dolphin's trainer was having an affair with her. Each time the dolphin came over the be petted, we were not allowed to touch this beautiful animal until he said so. Something about the dolphin's space. Yeah right, a likely story.

Despite a few hiccups we left Curacao renewed and ready to get back into our routine at home.
Now all I need is a vacation from my vacation.

Blog to return April 21st

Dear Readers:

Thank you for your continued support. I will be out of the country all of next week, but will return on April 21st. So tune in then, for some more adventures in parenting! Take a peak at my new blog link below.

Best Regards,
Motherhoodintheraw