And so . . . It Begins . . .

2003

I stood there fighting back the tears . . . and this is the first of many lasts.

There we stood in a hallway of the lower school. The 4th graders spanned the staircase. This was their night. There were many stages to the night - somewhat like a progressive dinner. They had an art exhibit with snacks and beverages, a choir concert, and Mystery Theatre where the children dressed up as their chosen biography character, got together in a group of 4, created a skit involving their characters and we as the audience had to guess who they were. So many moving parts to this evening . . .

2004

Our oldest son is 10 and in the 4th grade. Lower school, at his school, goes from Pre-K through 4th Grade.

2005

The entire day had been a blur - racing from one spot to another. Volunteering at school to help the kids rehearse their script. Draping the red curtains, working on bulletin boards, helping in the classroom. This had been going on for 10 days. I was working toward an end, task by task but not focusing on the why.

Choir Concert

Most of these kids have been working on these skills for 7 years. The Art teacher worked with them, teaching them how to build their 3-D art work.

The choir teacher took these small voices and taught them how to sing, train their voice and play the recorder.

The Humanities teachers from the earliest of years have been building reading, comprehension and writing skilled that enabled these kids to create power point presentations on the smart board as part of their skit. Back drops, narrator insertions, sounds, music all while they act their scene out in front of parents and peers.

Mystery Theatre

2006

It was while we were standing in the hallway, listening to them sing I bust out my hand held video camera. I will spare you the video - I rewatched it only to see me shake . . . so much for a steady hand.  I knew there would be some dancing in the first song and . . . I had seen the rehearsal and knew . . . this would be very funny. So, with my video camera in hand, I am recording this moment. I zoom in as tight as I can. My screen is filled with his face and about 10 other boys. He isn't looking at me. He is doing as instructed, singing his heart out . . . having a good time . . . hanging with his friends.


200

2007

And the start of tears.


This is the beginning of the end. Truly this is the first true mile marker, if you will, on his journey to becoming a confident, independent young man.

The realization that he isn't a little boy anymore hit me.

I see him everyday. I don't notice he is getting taller . . . I don't notice he is maturing . . . I don't notice he isn't a little boy anymore . . . he isn't my baby!

2009

In that moment I was filled with so much pride . . . pride that he is a successful student, that he has tons of friends, that he is respectful, considerate, brilliant (if I do say so), and has such a beautiful heart. I am also filled with such sadness . . . that he no longer is that sweet little boys I would carry on my hip, that we have fewer days to just hang together than before . . . and that one day, way too soon, he will be off on his own!

2010

Several years ago, Scoots said to me on Christmas Morning . . . "Mom, when I get married my wife and I are going to sleep in the bed with Dad and You" that is a tradition we have to help control when the kids get up so the entire family can be there to see what Santa brought.  Just as soon as he said it . . . I said "Promise?  I want that in writing."

2011

And so my sweet baby boy . . . would could not imagine a Christmas morning where he didn't wake up in my bed with Dad, Me and his wife . . . wrote it on a notebook piece of paper and signed it. 


 
I know there are wonderful . . . awesome . . . fantastic things to come for my young man.  I am just the slightest bit sad the innocence of his youth is fading fast . . . and that at 10 years old he doesn't have much time left under my care.

I love who he is becoming and will make every effort to enjoy every day of the next 8 years . . . it will go all too fast . . .

and more tears . . .

Sand in Places . . . Blue Lagoon . . . ish

Close your eyes . . . remember back to when you saw the movie The Blue Lagoon.  Yes, the one with Brooke Shields and Christopher Atkins.  Specifically, I want you to think back to when they are both old enough to dive in the lagoon.  They swim so freely . . . the are smooth about their swimming . . . the shot in the movie is from below - you see long legs shadowed from the sun . . . they are the picture of perfection swimming in something other than a pool.

Now wake up . . . that so wasn't our snorkeling experience today!

We have used the same diving company for 5 years, Diving Dog our of Puerto Morelos.  The owner Cathy does this on the side.  Her real job is the Central American Editor in Chief of the USA Today newspaper.  You wouldn't guess that in a million years.  Cathy has hooked us up with some of the best guides.

We always request a private charter . . . we always request they provide snacks and drinks . . . and we always request they keep their eye on our son, pull him through the snorkel and to identify "stuff" for us as we go along.

We arrived just before 9:00am.  The water is the most smooth early in the day which gives us the best visibility, it is also not as hot and more sea creatures are around.  So . . . we arrived.  There was 4 of us . . . me, the husband, the son and the sister.

They walked down as I tried to find a spot to park and then just made my own. I am sure you are familiar with my parking issues . . .

As soon as I catch up with them they are trying on life jackets as they are required in order to snorkel.  This year Cathy has switched to the belt support.  It works best since the other ride up and chafe the neck and under arm.  I stick with the traditional one . . . the rest go with the belt.

We load into the small boat, probably a 16' boat.  Thankfully it has a canopy, being fair skinned a break from the sun is appreciated. 

We motor out about 15 minutes to the National Park reef.  Over the side goes our son, my husband, the sister and reluctantly me . . . the initial shock of the semi chilly water is eased once masks are on and we are face down.

Snorkeling these last five years here I would have thought we had done it all . . . well we hadn't.  Immediately the guide pulls up a conch shell.  You cannot paint or manufacture something this pretty.  The conch was still in residence.  The colors span from an orange to a bring pink with the curve of the shell.  We all touch the conch.  Unfortunately we cannot keep it . . . it must go back.

I look up from him replacing the conch only to be in a school of fish.  Truly . . . I am in them . . . they are all around me.  They aren't afraid and they don't run.  It is times like these that I am grateful for a good underwater camera.  This camera has been around the world and seen water all over.

We spot lobsters, grouper, barracudas, tiburons, needle nose, sting rays,  blue fish, yellow fish, black fish with sparkles, some thin and long and not so much of either.


In total we snorkeled for about 2 hours. 

Full disclosure . . . I am not a fan of snorkeling.  It is a true loss of control for me.  I don't enjoy it like I enjoy swimming in our pool.  I feel that I am an unwelcome visitor in someone else's place.  Any wrong move can get you some attention you weren't wanting.  Like from this barracuda below.


There are a few brief moments when my loss of control fades away . . . and I am amazed at all I cannot see from the shore and now is just inches away.

Our snorkeling trip had ended.  It was time to get back in the boat and get home as the massage therapist were due to arrive within the hour.  My son had a souvenir from the bottom of the ocean . . . a cracked lobster claw, that he was most proud of.  (By the way . . . don;t pack it in your luggage . . . everything smelled like sea creature ass.) My husband was already on the boat and as I was approaching the boat . . . I saw something. 

It was a mermaid striking a pose. 

I fumble with the camera . . . get back under water . . . . and snap away . . .

It was mermaid Julie . . . and she would kill me if I posted pictures of her!

She has mermaided all over over the world!  AND . . . should you EVER need to black mail Julie . . . I have the pictures!

The snorkel guides are busting a gut with her mermaid poses!


 It was an afternoon of massages . . . final night spaghetti dinner (tradition), birthday cake and a Mexican mafia singing Happy Birthday to the birthday boy!


Poobie - I hope you had the best birthday ever!  Love ya!

Sand in Places . . . Nest of Snakes

There was only two free days before we had to leave.  Before we HAD to get back to school and work . . . before we had to give up paradise! So . . . logically we filled it.

Approximately 10 miles from our house is a Zoo . . . if you will!  Really it is a small collection of birds, spider monkeys, and reptiles . . . amphibians.

We had seen it about a million times . . .traveling to and from the airport, Cancun, and other sites.  We passed it and thought how could THIS be a zoo.  It doesn't look anything like the Dallas Zoo, and Lord knows that place isn't top notch.  It certainly doesn't look anything like the Ft. Worth Zoo.  The Crococun Zoo, there on the highway . . . passed by many everyday . . . is quite unassuming.