I know, I know I just haven't gotten around to writing a blog. I came home from a trip, took a personal trip (from hell!), and am on the road on another trip writing from the Jacksonville airport at the moment. This is going to be way too long to keep your attention so I'll break this up over the next couple of days and do my best to blog from the road.
First, let me explain that a curse does indeed exist on Friday the 13th. The last one for Carrie and I was the day we found out our daycare absconded with our money and closed shop. This was about 10 days before we were supposed to drop him off. Tears were shed. This year we decided we would outsmart the Gods of fate and fortune by taking a vacation day. What on Earth could go wrong during a vacation? We drove down to Marco Island, a posh little resort island south of Naples where my father and brother earned a trip through work. I used some hotel points to join them. Everything was grand until about 1am before we left when Q decided to spend the whole night awake forcing us to take the three hour trip on empty. Empty of Zzzzz that is. Shocker!?!, I know. The speed limit in Florida on I-75 is as fast as you are willing to go so it can be a bit of a dangerous situation when the average speed is 80 but we made it and even held a conference call with clients where Q was quiet for a solid 45 minutes. He didn't sleep a wink until about 11 miles short of our destination, but I repeat - Shocker!
Got there and found the sweet nectar that is the fuel of all things relaxing and we felt like we were going to have a solid casual, much needed stress free day. We even got upgraded to an ocean view, for free, at our hotel. Things were looking up. We went out for dinner, got busted trying to dine and ditch (long story and not enough time to write about that one. Maybe another time). We went home where of course it was going to be another marathon session to actually get Q to sleep so my brother and I went down to the hotel bar leaving my much too patient wife to deal with our much too often wide awake son. We didn't even make it through one severely over priced drink before the calls came in that my Mom was feeling ill.
One thing led to another and we were asked to walk down (being the responsible fellas that we are) to their hotel. About two blocks short we saw ambulances rolling down the street and knew it had to be trouble. We beat the EMS up to the room by about 30 seconds and the next thing we knew we were chasing the ambulance down the street to the hospital. Before we even knew what was happening we realized that fate had smacked us right upside the head again on Friday the 13th. There is no escaping it. We have already begun working on plans to build a sustainable 24 hour bubble we can all live in for the next Friday the 13th.
My Mom ended up staying in the hospital until Monday morning. It took a while to get the diagnosis right with a serious upswing in "this is getting worse before it gets better" but in the end we received fairly positive news. My Mom will make it and shouldn't have too much trouble tacking on another 30-40 years. (She's only 38 you know).
It was, however, the vacation from hell. Instead of relaxing we got stressful. Instead of Jimmy Buffettesque beach bars, we got hospital ER's. Instead of Q swimming in the pool, we got falling off the bed trying to knock out that cute face full of teeth. The good news is my Mom is okay and heading home on Wednesday. A little R and R and she should be back on her feet. Now, if someone could remind the Gods of fate the next time I'm trying to catch a plane and running late they owe me not once, but twice.
First, let me explain that a curse does indeed exist on Friday the 13th. The last one for Carrie and I was the day we found out our daycare absconded with our money and closed shop. This was about 10 days before we were supposed to drop him off. Tears were shed. This year we decided we would outsmart the Gods of fate and fortune by taking a vacation day. What on Earth could go wrong during a vacation? We drove down to Marco Island, a posh little resort island south of Naples where my father and brother earned a trip through work. I used some hotel points to join them. Everything was grand until about 1am before we left when Q decided to spend the whole night awake forcing us to take the three hour trip on empty. Empty of Zzzzz that is. Shocker!?!, I know. The speed limit in Florida on I-75 is as fast as you are willing to go so it can be a bit of a dangerous situation when the average speed is 80 but we made it and even held a conference call with clients where Q was quiet for a solid 45 minutes. He didn't sleep a wink until about 11 miles short of our destination, but I repeat - Shocker!
Got there and found the sweet nectar that is the fuel of all things relaxing and we felt like we were going to have a solid casual, much needed stress free day. We even got upgraded to an ocean view, for free, at our hotel. Things were looking up. We went out for dinner, got busted trying to dine and ditch (long story and not enough time to write about that one. Maybe another time). We went home where of course it was going to be another marathon session to actually get Q to sleep so my brother and I went down to the hotel bar leaving my much too patient wife to deal with our much too often wide awake son. We didn't even make it through one severely over priced drink before the calls came in that my Mom was feeling ill.
One thing led to another and we were asked to walk down (being the responsible fellas that we are) to their hotel. About two blocks short we saw ambulances rolling down the street and knew it had to be trouble. We beat the EMS up to the room by about 30 seconds and the next thing we knew we were chasing the ambulance down the street to the hospital. Before we even knew what was happening we realized that fate had smacked us right upside the head again on Friday the 13th. There is no escaping it. We have already begun working on plans to build a sustainable 24 hour bubble we can all live in for the next Friday the 13th.
My Mom ended up staying in the hospital until Monday morning. It took a while to get the diagnosis right with a serious upswing in "this is getting worse before it gets better" but in the end we received fairly positive news. My Mom will make it and shouldn't have too much trouble tacking on another 30-40 years. (She's only 38 you know).
It was, however, the vacation from hell. Instead of relaxing we got stressful. Instead of Jimmy Buffettesque beach bars, we got hospital ER's. Instead of Q swimming in the pool, we got falling off the bed trying to knock out that cute face full of teeth. The good news is my Mom is okay and heading home on Wednesday. A little R and R and she should be back on her feet. Now, if someone could remind the Gods of fate the next time I'm trying to catch a plane and running late they owe me not once, but twice.
Here is a view from our hotel room and a picture of our "big boy!" playing on the hotel's playground. Standing, walking, throwing a full size football. Look out NFL the dream is very much alive!! (That's my old man on the bench prentending he knows how to text message).
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