Two left feet

I was invited out to a bachelorette party last week. It was a small group of us and we started with dinner, then off to the new casino to have a few drinks at the piano bar on the 15th floor. It was very nice. Then off we went to Pepin's for some salsa dancing. The second we walked in, the bachelorette was whisked away on the dance floor. The nice thing about this place is that people come to dance, you don't feel like a piece of meat with guys trying to hook up. Most folks just come for some great dancing. I was next to be asked and warned the guy that I was not any good. He said no problem, and off we went. I tried real hard and did my best to let him take the lead while he spun me around. I felt like I did alright and went back to my seat once the song was over. I danced a bit with the other girls and it wasn't long before my next invitation came along. Just like I had before, I warned him that I wasn't very good. Once again, he said no problem and off we went. The song was rather fast and he immediately started spinning me all over the place. I tried so hard to stay in step, but each spin was increasingly more disastrous. Within seconds, the guy realized how bad I really was. He sure didn't waste anytime. He stopped dancing and took my hand and led me back to my seat. Whoa, the song wasn't even over. Did he really just give up on me that fast? I say down and wasn't sure if I was embarrassed, angry or just plain ole hurt that I was dissed so fast. I ended up laughing about it, but I took a small hit to my ego! Oh well. I guess that is what I get for dancing with another man. Next time I will bring Mr. B with me. According to him, I am a great dancer!

Tom and Jack escape

It was only a matter of time before it happened. Tom and Jack spend a lot of time rubbing up on the fence. Since I am not a farmer girl, I can only guess that they are itching themselves. They finally rubbed enough that the fencing started stretch and create bigger holes. I sent Miss P to check on their water and she came back screaming that they were gone! I ended up finding them down the road. They had actually crossed the bridge by our house that goes to the park and were making their way to the swings. A nice couple led them to an enclosed pasture and left them there. Mr. B had to go to the store to buy a goat collar just to get them home. They really put up a fight. Mr. B fixed the fence and hopefully they stay put. I can't handle looking for goats around my neighborhood on a regular basis.

Snip Snip!

The only way to end the rabbit-like reproduction of children, Mr. B finally agreed to get snipped. It was a long battle that he fought, throwing out all kinds of ridiculous reasons. Everything from "I don't have the time to take off work" to "It will hurt". Really!! Maybe he forgot that I just had 4 children in 5 years, each one without a drop of pain medication. I ended up going on STRIKE in an attempt to speed up his urgency to get the vasectomy. Weeks turned into months and I started to panic. Shortly into month 3, he had finally had enough and agreed.

The day had finally arrived and he was very nervous as the horror stories of co-worker who so kindly shared their experience raced throughout his mind. Thankfully the medication he was given to calm him down, took effect. He went from nervous to drunk like in behavior. The next thing I know, he is doing jumping jacks and boxing with the air in an attempt to get his blood flowing so that the medication would be maximized. It was so hilarious to watch, especially since he was nude from the waist down. Once the assistant came in and prepped the area (boy was he thorough), the doctor came in and took over. I stood inches away from the area to be treated because I had to make sure it was done. Within minutes, a couple cuts, a few burns to close the ends, a couple knots, it was over. If I had known it was that simple to do, I would have done it myself a long time ago.

You would think that would be the end of it, however, this particular procedure requires a 'clearing of the pipes' to be effective. What...25-30 clearings and it needs to be completed in a month. Say what! Now all I am hearing as he chases me around the house is "Doctor's orders". I called into my fabulous cousin who happens to work at this doctor's office and I requested that she ask her doctor if I can send my husband to him for the next 25-30 times and he can handle that in his office. He can just bill my insurance. Shouldn't that be covered?

Anyhow, he recovered like a champ and went out with me that night to celebrate. He actually admitted that he would have done it a long time ago, since it wasn't that bad. Oh, Mr. B, when will you learn to just listen to me.

I am a momma again!

Thanks to FB, I am now the proud momma of two pygmy goats. A friend was giving them away and posted it on FB. As if I did not have enough to do, I immediately responded that I would take them. The only problem was that although I had the land for them, I did not have a corral or anything to enclose them into. I put a call into my niece and asked if they would foster care for until I could prepare a home for them. After almost 2 months, we finally have the 2 newest members of our family, Jack and Tom. Miss M named them and has become quite the Goat Whisperer. She spends quite a bit of time in the fenced area with them, talking and trying to teach them tricks. One of them hopped on its back two legs, and she was certain that it was because of her incredible training. They really do not do much, other than eat and drop pellet sized poop all day. Every now and again they fight each other and bump heads. I am really hoping to find them a Mrs. to keep them company. Anybody needing to get rid of a female goat? I could really use the milk. Goats milk is so expensive!

Dr. Luther King Martin

So I was laying in bed with my oldest daughter and she begins to tell me a story about Dr. Luther King Martin (that is what she called him). She starts telling me that she learned that he helped the black people sit where ever they wanted to on the bus and that he helped the white people be nice to the black people. I realized that this would be a good moment to discuss how we are all different and that no matter what we look like, that we are all the same. I was also curious as to how she saw herself, since growing up I was always confused where I fit in with the whole "white" and "black" thing. She said that she was black and that her dad was also black. I asked her what I was, and she said, "white". That really threw me off since our skin color is the same. I asked her why she thought that, in which she replied in a very matter of fact tone, "well, the white people were always telling the black people what to do, and you are always telling me and dad what to do, so we are black and you are white". Say what? I was speechless.

To V or not to V...that is the question.

During my pregnancy with Baby R, I told Mr. B that he needed to get fixed. I feel as though my body has been through enough with 4 kids and that it is now his turn. At first he was dead set against it, but now that we are full speed with 4 kids he has realized that the time has come to stop the madness. I have been on strike for the last few months because the idea of having another child just blows my mind right now. Now don't get me wrong, I always imagined myself with a lot of kids, but the reality of it is incredibly incredible. If it was not for the enormous amount of help Senora X provides, I would have already lost it. Well, I still do lose it, especially with my 2 year old who has become beyond defiant and has no fear of my spatula. Mr. B is becoming more and more willing to discuss the idea and next week we have a consultation for the big V. He said he will go, but he still hasn't commit ed to the actual procedure. Hmmm, what can I do to persuade him?

The breast feeding shuffle

I feel like I have been nursing for almost 6 years straight...oh wait, I have been. My Baby R is a nursing machine and at almost 10 months, I see no end in sight. Now that I am back to work full time, my life has been a strategic game of timing. Everything revolves around Baby R and his need for "chita". I spend a lot of time driving back and forth from work to home, and making sure that my appointments with my clients allow enough break in between to have a date with my little guy. He still gets up 2 to 3 times a night to eat, and with the madness of the day to day (not to mention the interrupted sleep), I am struggling on what to do. Knowing that he is most likely my last child, I do not want the experience of nursing to end. Is there anything wrong with a nursing 5 year old? On the other hand I could really use a long nap, escape for the weekend with Benny, and drink myself silly....all which are impossible at this point. We have good days and bad days with nursing. The good days are jam packed with intense love while he is eating and the bad days involve biting that brings tears to my eyes. Oh, I don't know. What I do know is that if it were up to my boobs, they would holler.....enough already!

Returning to Reality...YUCK!

Our final days in the D.R. were spent packing and gulping down as much Presidente (the local beer) as possible. On the final day, we were picked up real early by the family that we spent our first few nights with. We wanted to make sure that we left plenty of time so that we did not have to rush. So 4 hours before our flight they drove us to the airport. From the moment we walked into the airport we were met with problems. 2 of the 5 bags were over the weight limit. It was going to be several hundred dollars to send them. We were directed to a store to purchase 2 new bags. While my 3 girls ran wild in the airport, Senora X and I transferred items around to balance them all out. It took quite some time as each time we had to wait in line to weigh it again to see if we had it right. After over an hour burned on just fixing our bags we were finally able to check in. On we went to security, our next problem. Trying to get all 4 kids through security is pretty difficult as shoes come off and we try to keep everyone together in the long line. Right after security you have to pay a "departure" fee. What?? No one told me you had to pay to leave the country. That would have been all fine and dandy, except that as we were driving off from our condo, I gave the rest of my pesos to the maintenance folks who helped us so much during our stay. I gave every last peso away and now I needed over 4,000 pesos to get my family out. By this point Senora X is fading fast after staying up late the night before, not eating breakfast (she's diabetic) and all the stress of trying to get our luggage right and listening to crying kids. As I am having her translate to the lady at the counter that I do not have any money, I notice her start shaking and looking like she is going to pass out. I tell her we need to sit down and regroup and figure out what to do. Thankfully, the lady was very nice and allowed us to sit in her little area. She fetched some juice for Senora X. Once Senora X stopped shaking, the lady escorted me to an ATM machine to withdrawl the cash. I left everyone else at the pay station to avoid ALL of us having to go through security again. She walked me to the other side of the airport and I attempted to get cash, except there was one really big problem. The card that I took out of my wallet was telling me "NSF", I tried another one....same thing. OMG, how am I supposed to get out of this country if I have no money? I remembered that I had one more card in one of my carry on bags. The poor lady had to walk me back through security to her station to get the other card, then all the way back to the ATM. Finally I was able to get what I needed and we could move on. Although the shaking had stopped for Senora X, she was still very sick and was not able to help me the way she usually does which left me alone to manage the kids and the carry ons. By the time we made it to our gate, we had less than 10 minutes to board. Really? We got there 4 hours early and we only had 10 minutes to board? We did not even have time to eat, which lead to the melt down once we boarded the plane. To make a very long story about our plane ride home short, I will just say it was just about one of the worst experiences of my life. The kids struggled with the long trip, Senora X was out of commission on the verge of vomiting just about the entire time, 2 of the 4 had bowel movements that needed to be addressed and we were all tired. When the plane landed, I cried very hard that the nightmare was over. It will be a very, very long time for the memories of that trip home to fade and an even longer time before I attempt to travel with my kiddos by air. Mr. B was there to pick us up and get us home. There is nothing greater than being home!

Lights out!

Electricity here in the Dominican Republic is a luxury, not a right. It has been by far the most frustrating part of our whole trip, with mosquito attacks coming in at second place. For whatever reason, the electicity cuts out at random times throughout the day and night. There is no warning and the amount of time it is out is unknown. My absolute only complaint about my entire adventure is that I was not made aware that the condo that I would be renting had a schedule for the generator. Meaning that whenever town power went out the generator would only kick on during certain times. From 10am to 6pm if there is no town electricity, there is also no condo electricity. Electricity also powers the water pump, so no power also means no water. After several rounds with the condo administrator and talks with local folks that ‘that is just the way it is’, I accepted the 10-6 schedule. However I was real annoyed that I was never told that this amazing condo with all its splendor only supplied power during certain hours. This morning the administrator made the big mistake of turning the generator off at 9am. My laundry was in the middle of its cycle and I had yet to take a shower. One thing I have learned here is that you have to raise hell before anyone will listen to you. That means you have to yell loud and say the same thing over and over. Being passive will get you nowhere and people will only take advantage of you. Up until this morning, I have been more than patient and tolerant and the maintenance folks and administrator know that and have taken advantage of that. I have also had a huge language barrier to express my point so I have just accepted the B.S. But this morning, I had had enough. In my best Spanish, I went outside and starting yelling as loud as I could that it was not time for them to cut the power. Rather shocked at my tone, the administrator tried to tell me that the generator had been running for a long time and that it needed to rest. I went on to say that I did not care and that it was not time. I was shaking and on the verge of tears as I had not felt that much anger in a long time, since life for us has been so relaxing. Imagine my surprise when my fit of anger actually worked. He walked back to the machine and turned it back on. I was so proud of myself. I did it! I yelled at a grown man in Spanish and he complied! I think I like this yelling is Spanish to get my way. I only wish I had started my yelling sooner.

The Moto

I finally have gotten tired of walking and decided that I was going to try out the Moto transportation system here. Motorcycles are the transportation of choice here, but they seemed so dangerous to me when I first arrived, but after wearing out my sandals from all the walking I decided to give it a try. My first ride was intense. I think I probably left marks on the shoulder of the driver from holding on so tight. They go so fast and traffic is a nightmare that you really just have to have faith that the driver is paying attention. After several more trips on a Moto, I was ready to add some kids to the mix. I am proud to say that we are all professional Moto passengers and I can’t believe I waited so long to utilize them. I guess if anything, I got some great exercise but my walking days are over. I can get to where I want to go so fast. I’m hooked on Moto!

Mr. B brings the flu

I suppose it was bound to happen eventually. I am actually surprised it took so long. We all got sick. Mr. B came out for a visit. We were all so excited and had big plans when he arrived for his weeklong stay. Now I am not sure if he brought the bug or if it was just coincidence but he arrived on a Saturday and by Monday the entire house was showing signs of illness. Going to the hospital is no easy task and takes just about the entire day to accomplish. It requires 2 buses to a different town, and very long waits with no A/C while the mosquitoes feast on you. The good news is that it is very cheap to see a doctor here. It cost 100 pesos, which is about $3 bucks. Even the cost of medication is low. By Tuesday we made our first trip to the hospital with Miss M, on Wednesday we took Miss P and Miss O On Thursday Mr. B himself was lifeless in bed and on Friday Senora X and myself went down. On his last day here Senora A was also on her way down. She was the last one to get sick. The only survivor of the nasty bug that spoiled an entire week intended for fun in the sun was Baby R. Breast milk rocks! Mr. B has left already and the girls were pretty bummed that they never got to go on the boat with him, but I guess there is always next time.

The Wrap

The wrap that I carry Baby R in has been quite the talk of the country. Not a single day has gone by where someone has not made a comment about it. I get stared at like I have a green alien sitting on my head. The wrap has been amazing on this trip. With so many kids and with so much movement that we do on a daily basis, it has been a life saver. It allows me to move freely and use both hands. Baby R absolutely loves it and is most content strapped to me. It would be fair to say that he stays in the wrap just about the entire day, even through his naps. I see the wrap as a wonderful thing, however, here it seems to be looked upon as a torture device. I have received only 1 positive comment the entire time that I have been here and that came from the priest at the outdoor church that we attended a few weeks back. At the end of mass, I noticed the entire congregation staring at me once again and then they started clapping. Since I could not follow what he was saying, I had to ask Senora X what the heck was going on. Apparently the priest really liked the idea of baby-wearing and was telling everyone that I should be commended for wearing my baby as it benefits the baby to be so close to the mother. So at the end of the day, when a whole country seems to be against the wrap, I have one priest who loves it and therefore his vote cancels out everyone else.

Eating in Aisle 3

Last week we went on our weekly trip to San Pedro to go to the super market. Usually Baby R stays asleep for the entire journey, but for some reason he decided that he wanted to stay awake the whole time. It was really no problem since he stays in his little wrap and attached to me. After a while he started showing signs that he was getting hungry so I started to scout out where I could go in the super busy grocery store. I have breast fed all of my kiddos and have learned to be pretty discreet when out in public when necessary. I have fed babies on beaches, on subways, on top of the Eiffel tower, at church, but I had yet to nurse in a grocery store. Not able to find a place to go, I had Senora X ask a worker who was sitting on a stool if there was a location that I could go. Without skipping a beat, the woman stood up and slid the stool to me right there in the middle of aisle 3. Hmmm, I was hoping more for a room or quiet place in the store. With a very hungry baby crying at this point, I just sat down and fed him. The worker stood up and waited patiently for her stool. I was quite shocked of how acceptable my actions were since the Dominican woman and men have quite an issue with the wrap that I carry him in and have absolutely no problem telling me so. Anyhow, as people walked up and down the aisle, not a single person took a second look. I wish that breastfeeding in public was as accepted in the U.S. as it is here.

Just a trim....

In case you ever planned to come to the Dominican Republic to get a haircut, let me warn you....A trim here is very different than a trim in the U.S. We were in the city yesterday and we passed a salon. Miss O needed a trim as her ends were a bit dry. She just needed a little bit off the ends. I was holding her from the front while the woman started her 'trim' after a few minutes she asked me to rotate to the side so she could begin on the other side of her head, and that is when I saw her destruction of my poor little baby girls' curls.....Too much had already been taken off and it was too late to fix it. I was sick to my stomach. So much for a trim.

Uncle Louie

A few weeks into our trip, my Uncle Louie joined us. Last year Mr. B encouraged Uncle Louie to get his passport in the event that one day we ever go to the Dominican Republic he could join us. When this trip became a reality, I called him and asked him if he wanted to join us. He wasted no time sending me a check so that I could purchase his ticket. Uncle Louie is retired and lives in the big city of Miami, Arizona so he must have been ready for some new surroundings. He spends most of his days exploring the country. He is able to see more than we are able to as traveling with all of us is kept to a minimum. We enjoy hearing about his adventures at the end of the day. He sleeps on the couch and requires only 2 drawers of space. When he is around, he enjoys smoking, which the girls remind him that it is not healthy and they ask why he does not turn green like Pinocchio does in the movie. He likes to listen to local music outside on the patio and drink his coffee. He has developed several models of a fly swatter with materials he gathers on his adventures and thoroughly enjoys the look on the girls face when he takes his teeth out to eat. It has been nice to have him around as he requires very little and my only complaint is that he never puts the toilet seat down! He has really taken a liking to this town of Juan Dolio and is considering staying after we leave.

Residencia Abdimar

Residencia Abdimar, our new home, is a beautiful condo. It is only 8 months old and so everything is new and clean. It is a 6 floor condo community with about 36 condo units. Almost all of the condos are owned by people who live in the capital, Santo Domingo. When we arrived I only noticed one other person living in the building, however, once the weekend came around the pool and beach was full of people. Residencia Abdimar is a weekend getaway for most of the owners. I have come to love the quiet of the week and having all of the facilities all to ourselves, yet look forward to the commotion of the weekend full of families, loud music, LOTS of Presidente (the local beer) and barbeques.
Besides the one full time resident, the only other people here during the week is the armed guard (often times with no bullets), the building administrator-Elizabeth, and the maintenance crew-Paublo, Flaco, Orlando, and Juanito. The maintenance crew takes care of the grounds and also acts like a concierge service. They will run to the market for you, take your trash, help with unloading the groceries, set up the beach chairs and umbrella on the beach, chase after a certain little someone who likes to run around the pool and most importantly they will store your Presidente in the freezer by the pool and keep your cup full. Everyone is most helpful and friendly.
We settled quickly into our home away from home and tried to learn as much about our surroundings as possible. Across the street is a little market that carries most of the essentials, including the 5 gallon water bottles that we have to use for all of our drinking and cooking needs, as the tap water is not safe for consumption. We did a lot walking up and down the main street just checking out what our new town has to offer. There is a lot of construction with new condo buildings going up and lots of little shops selling artwork, cigars and other type of souvenirs. We do a lot of walking. Senora X and Miss O take a walk each morning while I have school with the girls.
Since Miss M and Miss P would be missing school for a few months, I made sure to meet with their teachers before we left to gather as much educational materials as possible. The teachers set me up with plenty to do with them. Since Baby R sleeps the longest in the morning, we decided that I would hold class each morning. I work with Miss M and Miss P for a few hours. I have discovered that teaching your own children is much more difficult than teaching a classroom of 30. It is hard to keep them focused, but we do manage to get things done after I start telling them that we can’t go swimming until they finish their work. Once finished, we put our suits on and head down to the pool and beach.
After several hours outside, we usually come in for a nap. It doesn’t take long for everyone to fall asleep, including myself and Baby R. After a few hours of shuteye, we either head back to the pool or set off for a walk. Our days are pretty stress free and slow paced with only the occasional temper tantrum and lots of diaper changing. In addition to school and swimming, the girls do a lot of coloring, art projects, sea shell collecting, mosquito killing, eating, buying popsicles and running around the grounds. They also have their DS game system and their cartoons in espanol to enjoy. There is only 1 clock in the house and most of the day I have no idea what time it is, rather I just run through our routine and before I know it, it is time for bed.
Some days we head into the nearest town of San Pedro to eat pastelles (kinda like tamales) and to go to the grocery store called Jumbo. Just getting to San Pedro is always an adventure. It requires us to catch a bus from the main road, go about 15 minutes to the town and then catch another bus to the market. Since there are 7 of us with 4 being children it is not exactly easy when you mix in lots of fast driving cars and motorcycles, heat and humidity, overcrowded transportation, super loud music on the bus and at least one child upset about something. There is certainly never a dull moment on our outings.
I have found 2 churches; one is real close to us and is an outdoor church, the other one is a beautiful cathedral in San Pedro. The outdoor church has a really special mass. There is something pretty awesome about being outside during mass that I really enjoyed, but the heat was just too much for my kids. The cathedral has no AC, but lots of fans that make it comfortable. Since traveling with everyone is quite a job, I usually just take Baby R and 1 of the older girls when I do go to San Pedro for mass.
I am certainly getting the hang of how to get around, and would say that I do a so-so job of communicating with people in Spanish. Most of the places we go and the people we see live in poverty; many of the places are dirty with trash all over. We see lots of children without shoes and young children on the hustle trying to shine your shoes or braid your hair. There are also many old men pushing heavy carts selling fruit and vegetables. By American standards we would be quick to feel sorry for them and think that life must be miserable here, as was my first feelings, but as you start to look deeper into Dominican life you notice that for most people here, they are quite happy. There is a lot of laughter in the children, people are courteous and quick with a smile, the old men are singing as they push their carts and the even older men playing their dominoes under a tree seem the happiest of all. Maybe it is all they know, or maybe they make do with what they have, I am not really sure but what I do know, is that there is something profound to be said that less may actually be more.

Time to move on to our next stop

Once back to the city we still had 6 more days until we could check into our condo on the beach. It did not take long for the lack of AC, mosquito attacks and that dang spider that I could never catch to take its toll on us all. The nights were so hot and miserable that baby R cried way too much. His crying episodes sent all the women in the house into a frenzy. Each one had an opinion as to why he was crying. Maybe he was hot (duh), maybe he was tired, maybe he did not like his sling, maybe he was starving, maybe he was bit by a mosquito, maybe his diaper was wet, maybe he needed water, maybe my breasts were not making enough milk, maybe I was holding him too tight….At 10pm, after over 2 hours of baby Rio crying, I couldn’t take it anymore. Not even caring what time it was, I called the cell of the woman who handled the rental. She said that the condo was not yet professionally cleaned. I told her I did not care and begged to allow us to check in the very next morning without it being cleaned. She could have told me that the daily rate was 3 million dollars and that I needed to give up a body part, and I would have figured out a way to come up with it just to get to AC.
I was very grateful to our host family, don’t get me wrong. They were wonderful and very accommodating to the party of 7 that took over their house. If it had just been me, I could have stuck it out, but I could not handle my kids’ discomfort. It was just too much. That very next morning, the taxi was called up for his final drive with us.
It took about an hour to get there. I was very nervous because I had found the condo online and really only had 5 pictures of the place and what the lady on the phone told me. I had also paid in full for the 2 months, against the advice of Mr. B. When paying for the 2 months, the lady asked me to make the deposit directly into her account and since I was traveling so close to the reservation date, it needed to be paid in full. Of course, that sent up red flags, but what the heck was I to do. I needed a place and since I had never been there before, I just had to hope and pray that the place was not a scam and that it was a decent place. So the entire time we were driving I was in prayer overload hoping that I do not have to hear the words-I told you so- come out of Mr. B’s mouth.
We pulled up to the gate and were met by a guard and another man. Senora X told them that we were renting there and the other man told us that he had no idea about the arrangements. My stomach turned. To make a long story short, I had to call back to the woman who made the arrangements and she explained to the guard that her husband was going to meet us there to give us the key to the condo. The guard opened the big iron gate and let us in. OH MY GOODNESS! I could not believe what my eyes were seeing. My family and I had just pulled into a slice of heaven. It was so beautiful. I could not have even dreamed up a more amazing place.
The cleaning lady had just started to clean and I wasted no time telling the girls to put on their swimsuits. In less than 5 minutes of arrival I was in the swimming pool with all my kids. Refreshing was an understatement. There was no doubt that the next 2 months were going to be just what the doctor ordered!

Monte Cristi and Santiago

With 2 day trips down with minimal drama, we decided it was time for our first overnight trip. It required a 4 hour air conditioned bus trip with several stops along the way. Monte Cristi was our destination. It is the home town of Mr. B’s father. It is where Mr. B spent many summers as a child up in the mango trees. Mr. B owns a home there. Our purpose was to check on the house and collect the rent for the last year. We also visited friends of the family. The town of Monte Cristi is small and resembles my birth town of Miami, Arizona. Some streets were paved, many were not. Old homes and people walking the streets and high sidewalks. We were picked up from the bus station by a friend Mr. Nicola that drove a little pickup truck. There was no time to be picky about our transportation and no time to fuss about safety, so in the 2 passenger pickup we went. 4 in the bed of the truck and 4 in the front. Mr. Nicola is an older man with a quiet personality. He sells seafood out of the back of his house- crab, fish, octopus and lambi (not sure what it is, but that is what they called it). There house was small yet cozy. Just like in the city there were no windows. They had chickens running around in the back yard that the girls enjoyed chasing. The humidity and heat did not take long to start wearing us all down and after we could not take it anymore, we checked ourselves into the only hotel we could find with air conditioning. The hotel also happened to be on the beach which was so refreshing. Monte Cristi is in the upper north west of the country and from our hotel room you could see the island of Cuba. We spent the rest of the day at the beach. That night was the first night that I can actually say that I was cold. The air conditioning worked a little too good, but how dare I complain! The next morning we packed up and went back to the bus station for our trip back to the city. On the way back we stopped in the town of Santiago. Santiago is where Senora A’s 99 year old sister lives. Without much time to waste in order to make it back to the city before dark, we only spent about 1 hour at her sister’s house. It was so awesome to meet her and her family. There were more than welcoming, as everyone has been along the way. Also like all the other homes we have visited, the moment we walk in the door, food and coffee starts coming out of the kitchen. You are not allowed to say ‘no’ to either one. Avocados are served like chips and salsa are served in AZ. I love avocados and can’t get enough of them here. There must have been over 20 people in the house that we were in and the whole house was about the size of my front room. There is not much in the home, but they have what they need. A table, a few chairs and beds. The floors and walls are concrete and once again, no windows. I was fascinated to see the only photo on their wall. It was a picture of Senora A’s father. I have the same exact photo hanging in my living room. For the first time in my Dominican travels there was a man, not a woman, doing all of the cooking and serving. He was most attentive and I wanted to scoop him up and put him in my pocket and bring him home. Hehe! Anyhow, I had a wonderful visit and really wished we had more time to stay, but we really needed to get going.
The break in the long bus trip was welcomed by all. The idea of only 2 more hours was much more bearable. For the most part my kiddos did well. There was more room on the bus going back allowing us to spread out a bit more, but I would have been foolish to think we could make it back without incident. Of course it was about the last hour that things went down hill. First there was a woman who started having contractions on the bus. She was traveling alone and was being helped by different people on the bus. She was clearly in a lot of pain and while pacing the narrow aisle she would stop to allow the contraction to pass. I started to get real nervous since I knew we had a while to go before the city. Since I consider myself an expert on the subject of child birth, I started to mentally prepare for what could happen and if I could be of assistance. After playing the game ”what would you do?” in my head for a few minutes and assessing all the assistance she was already receiving, I came to the conclusion that since I did not speak enough Spanish, I would be better off praying for a safe delivery and letting the other people help her. An ambulance was called to meet us at the next stop and I got my camcorder ready just in case the show started. Thankfully, we made it for her to get off and head to the hospital. Let’s just say the bus was mighty quiet during that whole time. With that excitement over my kids took their cue and started their show. With one screaming for more candy, another one needed to use the bathroom. As I shifted all of my belongings on my lap, she proceeded to tell me that she just pooped in her underwear (name withheld to prevent future embarrassment). Oh my gosh, what do I do now? We still had about 15 more minutes. With nowhere to go, she had no choice but to lean over on the seat, butt up until we got there. I felt so bad for her. With the beautiful aroma filling the air, I just sat there rubbing her back, telling her it was okay. She was so sad about it. Finally we arrived. We addressed the stinky situation and made our way back to our quarters in the city. We survived another outing!

399 stairs too many

With one successful sightseeing day down, we went for another. We piled into the small car again the next day for a tour of Tres Ojos. Tres Ojos is an underground cave with 3 lakes inside. We realized after about 5 stairs that Senora X and my chubby Miss O were not going to make it, and up they went to wait for the rest of us. With Baby R strapped tight, Miss M, Miss P and Senora A made our way down the 200 stairs to the bottom. It was not as cool as I had hoped and the bats that were flying around were freaking the girls out. Senora A’s vision is not too good and the guide had to help her most of the way since it was rather dark. Once again the girls really did awesome and we made it to the bottom. We caught a little boat that took us across one of the lakes and looked around the other side. This time I wished I had paid more attention in science as the guide told us about stalagmites and stalag-something else. I guess like with most caves, there is only one way in and one way out. So back up another 200 stairs to get out we went. I was starting to get flashbacks of my high school Grand Canyon trip where I almost did not make it out of the Canyon. I had to resort to my military mind frame, suck it up and focus on getting up the stairs with Baby Rio starting to get beyond sweaty. Slowly but surely we all made it, and that is one cave I will not be back to visit.

Spiders and mosquitoes

The first day that we arrived, we placed our luggage in a closet. Miss M jumped back and said that she saw a spider. I looked and looked and did not find anything and told her to quit joking about those kind of things. (She is quite a jokester) Spiders were the last thing I wanted to worry about as the mosquitoes were plenty bothersome. That night, I went in the room to grab a diaper and right there on the closet was the biggest spider ever. She really had seen one. I bent over to get my shoe off to kill it and when I stood back up, it was gone. Oh My! I did not ever tell Miss M that I had saw it, instead I spent most of the nights praying that it did not crawl on my face or the kids. I never saw it again. Thank God!
What I did see plenty of were mosquitoes. It is absolutely incredible how such a small little thing can cause so much grief. They love all of us except Senora A and Baby R. The poor girls scratch the bites until they bleed. We have tried so many different types of sprays and creams. We have yet to find anything that keeps them away, instead we have only found a great cream for the aftermath.