sparknotes

And we're back.

Back to reality. (As the plane landed in LA on Thursday night, I literally had those three words run through my head...because I'm so original. And ever since then I've had that Eminem "Lose Yourself" song from a bajillion years ago in my head. You know: "Back to reality, oh! there goes gravity. oh! there goes Rabbit, he won't give up that easy." Right? You know.)

I feel truly very rejuvenated from our Kauaian escape. Above every other adjective that could appropriately be used to describe our time, it was relaxing. Breathtakingly beautiful, tropical and otherworldly, all those too. But relaxing, most definitely, which was a befitting prescription for my self-diagnosed recent kamikaze of crazy.

I'm not going to delve too deeply into details. I know, I know, I know. You're hungry for the gritties. But I thought just some highlights would be more than sufficient especially since, honestly you guys, we mostly laid on the beach. This was unwinding at its most deadly serious. Which, in case you've never indulged, is just about the best everrrr.

Further adieu could definitely be supplied, but let's get down to it:

You want to know just about the very first thing that happened to us upon disembarkation? We caught the Marriot shuttle. We were not staying at the Marriot, and fully disclosed this to the driver. And he was like, "Ah, it's ok. Hop on." We knew we were staying within very short walking distance of the Marriot, but even after sneaking an undeserved shuttle ride, we were hopelessly lost tourists with heavy baggage. So you want to know the next thing that happened to us? The nicest nicest nicest local, in the process of strapping his surfboard into his truck, recognized desperate dejection in our faces, and insisted upon giving us a ride. He got us to our rented condo even with our completely unhelpful non-directions, then waited in the parking lot to make sure we had the right place. So, highlight The Number One? Hawaiians are the KINDEST. The whole trip through, we met the friendliest locals. Outside an LA terminal the best we would have sustained would have been a hit and run or a congenial mugging.

Next must-mention: sunrise every morning, coffee in hand. Fine, I hate coffee. It was like some sugary frap or hot chocolate or caramel something or other for me. Since the time change of three hours messed with my pregnant brain, I did not sleep in a minute past 6:15 the whole trip, and it was 5:30 for the first three mornings straight. Sean, the consummate morning-hater, actually embraced the wee hours for the entirety of our stay, and even set his alarm for 6:15 after the first couple days, so much did he enjoy getting an early start.

We went on this babymoon with a couple friends of ours who are expecting their first. A community babymoon. We all pitched in for a rented car and explored Kauai top to bottom. My favorite beach was this guy on the North Shore, Ha'ena:

which had far and away the best waves we saw. I have a deep affinity for bodysurfing that I did not really let myself indulge in, as bodysurfing has a tendency to slam one's body to the ocean floor on occasion, and I didn't think my tiny uterus passenger would appreciate that. I settled for takeoff and turn-around, and only got sucked over the falls once.

This tiny paradise was another favorite - Anini

The water was serenity in material form, and I floated on one of those ridiculous pink tubes for an eternity while taking in some rays.

No Hawaii trip is actually, technically a Hawaii trip if you didn't indulge in....

Shaved Ice. It's like going to Italy and not having gelato. That's my preg friend next to me, and I don't have her express publishing permission so let's pretend there's one of those blur screens over her face like in Cops. Anyway, isn't she the cutest?

Finally, our last night was my favorite of favorites. Since we had gone to Costco upon our arrival, and had done our best to budget by eating most meals in, we threw caution to the gusty humid winds and got a fancy delicious dinner on our last night in Kauai. 

Sean got a prime rib. Wait let me amend that. Sean got a prime COW in it's entirety. They offer a "Big Daddy" of 28 ounces. TWENTY. EIGHT. OUNCES. It gets better: if you finish, you get a free slice of their "Hula Pie." Guess who finished? So all four of us split about 5,000 calories worth of Oreo cookie crust, macadamia nut ice cream, hot fudge and a Mount Kilimanjaro of whipped cream. It was only the best thing I've ever tasted.

Thanks for having the appetite of a king cobra, Husband.

I was too slow on the uptake in the top pic; the prime rib reached all the way to the corner of that plate, but it took me 37 seconds to whip out my camera, so I missed capturing the full effect. My shutter fingers can't compete with Sean's deadly knife/fork team.

Meanwhile

I'm not remotely kidding when I say that I'm confident Jordan was actually upset with us for coming back. She's been much less than cordial towards me, and Mimi (that's my mom, in Jordanspeak) does fun stuff like decorate her ears with flowers and lets her have brownie beaters. I certainly did not get the reception I dreamed of for six days, but rather a confused stare down and an eventual cuddle concession only if accompanied by a warmed up baba. I hope I'll be in good graces again soon.

Aside from really quite serious Jordan withdrawals (which I'm positive our friends got annoyed with because Sean and I did super obnoxious things like talk to each other like Jordan does, or exchange exhausted stories about how hilarious she is [to us]), we had a beautiful time. Babymoons: makes ya want to have a baby every year. Chuckle chuckle...

one for the books.

that's how the men feel about it anyway.