The beach! Finally!

Everyone on the beach looked busy, so
we took this picture using a self-timer.

Most mornings, especially in the dark months, begin with Matt or I waking the girls sometime in the first half of the 7:00s. They burrow under their covers and try to ignore us the best they can. Except for Naomi, sometimes, who will wander in to our room to play puppies. Eventually, I drag the older girls out, prod them through their morning routines, and count it good if we're at the breakfast table by 8:00. Not my ideal morning, but there it is.

Clearly, however, the problem is one of motivation. Because on Day 1 of our much-anticipated Florida vacation, the girls jetted out of bed at 6:20, instantly dressed themselves and made their beds without a fuss. Several of them had their hair brushed by 6:45. How do I know this? That's the time Kalina peeked into our room and, upon hearing her daddy snore, seized her sisters and brought them to his bedside so that they could all listen in. Fortunately for his respectability, he had stopped by then.

Of course, then I was up and we all had begun breakfast by 7:00. The morning motivation problem is not me, it's them.

At any rate, we were off to a brilliant start for what we hoped was going to be the family vacation that made up for all the craziness of the previous 10 1/2 months.

We finished some last-minute packing, made lunch, and headed for the airport, warning the kids that the only guarantee was that we were going to have an adventure. Maybe a hurricane could even still spring up (we didn't say that, but thought it, if only in the metaphorical sense).

And in fact, we nearly faced a small storm: a couple stops away from our car on the shuttle bus, we realized we'd forgotten the carseats. Yikes! Back Matt went--and yet he still managed to beat the rest of us to the terminal by quickly trekking ahead to a further bus stop. I'll make no comments here about traveling with small children.

Elise was nervous about flying. We know--she told us. Often. Kalina, also nervous, took the strong, silent route and Naomi, only nervous because her big sister was, fed off of whatever the current mood was. Which is why I found myself sandwiched between my younger kiddos, according to Elise's plan, managing emotions just as though I wasn't on vacation, while Matt and Kalina both dove into chapter books for most of the flight on the other side of the plane:
Matt: Wow, Kalina, take a look out your window at the ______!
Kalina: Can I just read?

We had more fun on our side of the plane. Elise narrated virtually every minute, while Naomi soaked it all in. Elise got particularly nervous about takeoff:
"I'm scared, I'm scared!" "Wow, this is like the most exciting roller coaster ever!" This garnered, as near as I could tell, a guffaw from the guy in front of her, who no doubt had been listening in, even if involuntarily.

Elise and her mermaid tale!

Occasionally Elise would get really excited: "It's Mount Cloud!" or "The OCEAN!" she would shriek over the roar of the plane. We enjoyed inventing new lands in the clouds (including imaginary creatures called Bumpies) and actually flying over the spot we would be staying (but we didn't know it then!).

During the 15 minutes that Elise read, Naomi and I indulged in a sticker book, decorating cupcakes with more treats. The rest of the flight, she tucked Biscuit into her seatbelt with her, munched snacks, chatted a little, and worried a little along with Elise. Of course, there were m&ms for takeoff.

And we arrived! Racing through the hurdles of using a public toilet (ahem...Naomi...), acquiring our bags, renting a car, driving to our hotel (aaargh, the stoplights!), checking in and gleefully exchanging our pants for shorts we managed to make it to the beach with a good 30 minutes left of daylight. Oh, the joy! The girls each dug in in their own ways. And then, being Gulfside, we were treated to sunset over the ocean. We ordered a pizza for dinner and settled into our lovely 2-bedroom, 2-bathroom, fully equipped suite, because Mommy and Daddy need a vacation, too. The girls settled down to sleep, side by side, on the king-sized bed.

Kalina spent her first two
beach days doing this.

The next morning, the girls were up bright and early and ready for the beach at a somewhat chilly 8:15. The temperatures didn't phase the girls and, either way, warmed up quickly. We soon had found two Florida fighting conchs, a fish, plenty of mole crabs, digging crabs and other beachy things. Kalina kept her eyes on the sand, claiming every shell that grabbed her interest and keeping a close eye out for shark teeth; Elise also searched for shells, jumped waves, performed handstands and cartwheels and played in the water; and Naomi maintained her current domestic and artistic interests by forming sand pillows (and trying them out), drawing in the sand with a feather, making sand castles and decorating them and creating Sand Biscuit. They ate more pasta than ever before for dinner, and then everyone went to Wal-Mart for food and beach supplies. The girls were all happily asleep before 9:00, which virtually never happens now that Kalina has a book light.

Clearwater Marine Hospital!

Whenever we told people we were planning a trip to Florida, they inevitably asked if we going to Disney. Of course, that would've had its appeal to Princess Naomi in particular, but since we're not really the lines-crowds-rides-paying a fortune types, we skipped it in favor of upholding Matt's personal sanity. Maybe another time. But there was another attraction that would hold all of our interest. So on Day 3, we slept in, took our time getting ready, and then headed out to Clearwater Marine Hospital, where we hoped to see a couple of famous dolphins we'd read books about, seen movies about, thoroughly discussed and admired and generally fallen in love with. Our own quirky version of Disney, and even Naomi was totally on board.

We arrived right on time, and were astounded to see, on a random Tuesday in November...a long line! We gave thanks we weren't, actually, at Disney, and settled in to wait the 40 minutes it took to buy our tickets, with me holding Naomi for much of it (ear infection? sinus infection? what???) and Matt convincing the kids to count 5-minute blocks for the simple reward of a sliver of dried mango. Sometimes he amazes me.

Naturally, they funneled us through the gift shop, but as we had souvenir plans, we didn't fret. Plus, someone informed us an otter was getting a checkup just off the hallway to our right, so we dashed in for a look...at the otter in the carrier. Later, however, we glimpsed a sick, droopy turtle with a gash from a boat--so cool! I mean, tragic.

Hope comes to say hi!

We wandered through the rest of the hospital area, and then quickly made our way to the Winter and Hope (famous dolphins) viewing area. As it turned out, Hope, the dolphin with a tail, was as excited to see us as we were to see her! She came right up to the glass to get a good, long look, smiling that sweet dolphin smile of hers. Any of us who weren't enchanted prior to that experience now were.

As an actual animal hospital/rehabilitation place this was no simple aquarium. We got to view both permanent and temporary residents, but also learn a lot about how the facility is run, how animals are trained and much more.

Plus, we got to go on a boat ride! Along the way to a small island, the guides let down a cast net for three minutes to see what they could drag up--making no guarantees of course. Later, they passed around the catch, which included a small puffer fish, and several other interesting species of fish, whose names I have now completely forgotten. We also got a sea squirt which does--they proved it--squirt.

Naomi has the best seat on
the boat!

We'd been hoping to see dolphins on this trip (After all, this trip was more economical and would take less precious beach time than the actual dolphin cruises...), and therefore could have hugged the guy behind us who shouted, "Dolphin!" partway through the trip. Sure enough, the girls got to see plenty of dolphins surfacing, and a couple even showing off by jumping--which was apparently new to at least one tour guide. Throughout the rest of the cruise, Elise was enthralled by staring down into the water, Kalina became excited about every fish they passed around, and Naomi, who didn't seem to be herself that day, didn't freak out about anything and cuddled into Matt's lap. Perfect.

Back inside, Elise informed us that the rest of her experience would be much more enjoyable with a souvenir in-hand, and Naomi quickly latched onto that idea, too. So we found the only stuffies in the shop that were reasonably priced, and the girls shopped. Elise bonded with a pink dolphin, Kalina with an otter and Naomi with a purple sea turtle. Each had a giant lollipop attached. And sure enough, Elise perked up even more, if that's possible, as she carefully directed her dolphin through the aquarium, so I suppose she was right.

We watched nurse sharks and a sea otter be fed and trained, saw Winter's prosthetic tale, watched Hope show off a few tricks, petted very active stingrays (it was feeding time) and watched puffer fish eat. When we were thoroughly worn out, we hit the beach back at the hotel for a sunset walk, and ate a huge dinner, as we'd barely found time to eat all day. 

Day 4 of our vacation was spent mainly at the beach again--because why wouldn't you? Matt started the day with shore fishing. If I initially may have sounded just the teeniest bit grumpy about his waking up super early to fish, it's only because I seriously doubted he'd catch anything. Fortunately, he completely proved me wrong, and had caught several species by the time I'd accepted the fact that I wasn't going to be getting back to sleep. Neither were the girls, however, so I rushed them out the door to see the catch of the day, which included lizardfish and a Spanish mackerel. Cool!

We made many structures like
this throughout the trip!

After breakfast, the day became an education about just a couple of beach hazards: sharks, stingrays, jellyfish, seagulls and sandcastle-wrecking boys. It began with Elise bouncing around in the (small, gulf) waves with a floatie. She and Matt both tried a little snorkeling, but didn't see much. The girls built a giant sandcastle and hole that they were hoping would first fill with water, and then be a gift for the mermaids as the tide took it out to sea. Before the mermaids could move in, however, a small boy, impressed by the size of the mound and hole, stopped by to check it out. I watched as Elise welcomed him, and they dug together for a little while. Then the boy's older brother came along, initially interested, but soon intent only on causing minor, but still aggravating, damage. Elise and the younger boy were left to ineffectively shout "no!" and "don't!" Not wanting to be "that parent," I nudged Kalina: "I think Elise could use some help." She sprang up and backed up her sister. The boy, who really was probably just an ordinary boy and not really a monster, eventually checked his behavior and then wandered away. Elise never quite forgave him, but fortunately there were more holes and more castles for other days during the trip.

I brought our lunch out to the beach to save the trek back and forth to the hotel room. A crow took note (seriously? Crows at the beach?) and perched on top of my bag. We should have seen this as a warning, but instead simply chased is away. Naomi and I ate our lunch while the older girls played, and we noticed we were being watched--by seagulls. Naomi and I kept our meal to ourselves--but Elise, in her friendly way, dashed up for a bite, grabbed a cracker and tossed it to a gull. Immediate pandemonium ensued, as half the other gull in a 200-foot radius attempted to snatch that cracker away from the first gull. Any gulls not caught up in the chase hovered above our picnic looking for additional crackers. Now I know firsthand what's so scary about the movie, "The Birds," as for a few minutes we were surrounded by eager, diving, larger-than-you'd like birds with pointy bills who wanted our stuff. No one was injured, but we were all a little freaked out. We shrieked, we waved our arms, we ran at the gulls, and Kalina even chased them with pool noodles. And we learned our lesson: whatever you do, don't feed the gulls!!! They, however, learned theirs too: don't steal stuff from a girl with a pool-noodle!!! The gulls behaved better the rest of the trip, and we never, ever fed them again.

Meanwhile, the fishermen next to us were having a little luck. First, they pulled in a stingray, stepping on its stinger to safely unhook it. Next, their catch was a small black-tipped reef shark. We barely got a picture before it flipped its way back into the water, surprising everyone with its strength. Despite the fact that Kalina was in heaven, having seen a shark, these catches sealed the deal on whether or not she would venture past her ankles into the water.

Elise was a bit braver--even when we spotted a jellyfish on the beach, and another in the water. And it was only later that she told Matt, somewhat embarrassed, that a spot on her wrist had begun hurting. Sure enough, she'd been stung by a sea nettle jellyfish. Fortunately, the pain wasn't too bad, and it stopped hurting within an hour.

Naomi, for her part, was braver than I expected, wading into water nearly to her knees. Her favorite part of the beach, however, was the "white sand," the only slightly damp sand that was the perfect combination of soft and moldable. This is where we always put the chair and umbrella, so that while Matt was capturing critters with Kalina and Elise, Naomi and I could play "lost puppy" and other games in the perfect sand. "Mommy, let's go to the white sand," she'd say if we distracted ourselves away for too long.

And then, the trip got really exciting--for me, anyway. Not far from a buoy marking the copious swimming area, I spotted a dark shape in the water, with a dark, triangular dorsal fin and tale fin just breaking the surface. It seemed to be cruising through somewhat slowly, but quickly sank beneath the water. It just had to be a shark. "Shark!" I couldn't help but yell, running toward the beach where my children were playing in inches of water. "Shark!"I pointed again. Matt came running, and I had all the attention of everyone around us on the beach, and a few in the water. Then, the dolphin surfaced again. Redder than a sunburn, I couldn't help but smile as I walked back to my chair. Later, I would again cause a scene, chasing our umbrella as it cartwheeled like a 7-year-old down the beach, yelling for dozing sunbathers to wake up so that it didn't gash anyone. As most people probably stay for a week, I now solidly had a reputation as "that crazy lady."

We welcomed family pictures
wherever we could get them--at
Sculley's Seafood, for instance.

That afternoon, we walked (and cartwheeled) along a boardwalk in John's Pass, a tourist village that probably used to be an actual fishing village. Naomi was tired (Daddy: "Do you like being carried?" Naomi: "It's like walking in mid-air!"), but we all enjoyed a meal out. The girls all tried seafood--even Naomi!--and somehow we were convinced to buy saltwater taffy and ice cream. Kalina took pictures of as many birds as she could, and the kids bought souvenir shells and shark teeth. Elise was glad to secure an unoccupied conch, as we hadn't found any without owners yet.

One of Kalina's many, many sea
bird pictures.

The next day we ventured to a state park that promised some of the best beaches in the nation, a pier and tidal pools. The girls couldn't quite see the point of leaving one beach to go to another, but we hoped we'd be able to convince them.

The tide pool--or at least, we think it's the tide pool--was actually a huge basin-like area that was separate at low tide, but joined with the rest of the ocean at high tide. Being some of the first people there, we had our pick of shells, which included some empty conchs, olivettes and other beauties. We also found plenty of filled shells, and enjoyed collecting various species and watching them scoot around in a bucket or on the ocean floor.

Naomi made a sand castle!

We spotted some mysterious shapes far out in a shallow sandbar area, and Matt waded/swam out toward them to check them out while the girls and I watched hopefully. We believed they might possibly be some sort of basking shark, and we were pretty sure they wouldn't harm Daddy, and that even if they did, he would be tough enough about them that the experience would still be pretty cool/worth it. I think we all shared this belief, as Matt didn't really seem offended at being sent on such a dangerous mission, although he was markedly more creeped out than usual.

But he never made it. As he was approaching the shadowy underwater figures, other people began to arrived and plow through the water much more unreservedly than Matt. "Stingrays!" they shouted. We don't know if the dark forms were, in fact, stingrays or if the stingrays were in other areas but Matt poked around just long enough to find a living sand dollar, which he duly transported back to us. He'd seem someone nicked by a stingray the day before on our hotel beach, on the phone with the ER, and preferred not to meet the same fate. The sand dollar was pretty cool, though!

Finally, Elise could do
handstands without being
warned incessantly not to
run into anything!

The shore was peppered with jellyfish--stinging nettles again--and we spotted some in the water as well. It only took one more sting to keep Elise out of the water for good (mostly). But her playful spirit won out, and soon she and Naomi were "farming" jellyfish--scooping them up with a net and cramming them into our little catch-and-release aquarium. They were interrupted only by Kalina and Matt's discovery of millions of spider-like crabs living just on the other side of our beach, and soon went off to gather these instead of jellyfish.

Upon returning, Elise sustained yet another sting when trying to untangle some seaweed from the jellyfish-filled net. She just laughed this one off--but still mostly avoided the water for much of the rest of the trip. As would pretty much anyone. She's proud of her stings, however, and of the fact she was the only one stung. "I'm just glad Naomi didn't get stung," she commented.

Next, we packed up and toured the rest of the state park, including a non-beach shoreline with a bank dropping a foot or two down to a foot or two of crystal clear water. Enchanted as she is by the sea, and not seeing any jellyfish, Elise wanted to be lowered into this water, just for a minute or two. Honestly, we couldn't see any reason why not, she has a good head on her shoulders and can be well trusted, and we could tell it was shallow for quite a distance--plus, we knew she wouldn't wander at all. But just as Elise's foot began to touch the water, a giant crab chose that moment to occupy the same space Elise was planning to! Matt quickly landed Elise back on the bank, and traded her for a net. Soon, the crab was clinging to the net while Matt hoisted it out of the ocean for us all to see. With spots of brilliant blue, it was a handsome creature, but we counted our blessings that we hadn't set Elise right on top of it. Now we had reason number 4 not to swim in the ocean.

And then we checked out the fishing pier, where Matt eagerly made a few casts. It only took a few, if that, before he was reeling in mackerel after mackerel while Naomi and I gingerly tried to avoid stepping on fish guts, Kalina monitored the line with Matt and photographed birds, and Elise bounced back and forth between the two groups. And we were also graced with a few more dolphin visitors along the pier!

Matt caught a fish!

Matt could've stayed all day, and possibly Kalina, but the rest of us were ready to get back to our own beach, which had far fewer jellyfish than this one, and the benefit of a hotel room closeby to grab whatever snacks and such we needed. Back we went--clearly, our hotel room was feeling like home.

On Day 6, Elsie decided she wanted to make her own tide pools, or at least collect fish that Daddy caught in large holes. We worked at this for a bit, and generally played until mid-afternoon. Despite the fact that we could all stay on the beach pretty much forever, we wanted to explore another side of Florida: the swampy, jungle-like, tropical, teeming-with-alligators side.

Having copiously researched such places, I steered us toward a county park where it seemed we were nearly guaranteed to see alligators--more so than anywhere else. As poor Naomi had been scared of alligators in the recent past, we knew we needed to refer to them in one of two ways: green squirrels, or baby alligators (the second way also worked when Daddy took a much younger Kalina and Elise to the zoo and scared them half to death with unnecessary warnings--from then on, all scary animals were "baby" animals.).

Alligator territory!

We tromped and cartwheeled along the boardwalk, probably scaring away anything cool, but enjoying Spanish moss and murky, vegetation-filled swampland. At a viewing point, we looked over the edge and sure enough--a baby alligator! (No really, it was pretty little). Eating bread. Next to several signs that harshly warned visitors about the perils of feeding alligators: major fines or a missing hand. Despite the confusing emotion of too-bad-someone-fed-the-alligators, but-we're-sure-glad-to-see-one, just-glad-it-wasn't-us we greatly enjoyed watching the small predator. We saw two more even smaller ones the rest of the walk, none of them so fortunate as to be eating soggy bread.

The next day, Friday, dawned chilly and grey--a stark shift from the sunny, mostly warm and sometime hot weather we'd been enjoying all week. As our last real beach day, we wanted to enjoy it as much as possible, but knew we could have some disappointed girls.

Kalina caught a ladyfish
(I think!) on our last day!

So we weren't prepared for Elise dancing out into the somewhat larger waves that had blown in with the colder weather. She managed to forget to be chilly in her swimsuit and sweatshirt combo as she rushed into the water, playing and jumping over waves. But she had her limits, and eventually came shivering back to shore. Fortunately, it warmed up enough for beach play, and the girls hardly noticed the cloud cover, except for the fact that we didn't have to worry about the every-two-hour ritual of covering every exposed inch with sandy sunscreen. Kalina and Elise each caught several fish, too!

Nothing's more fun than a
pool full of hungry alligators,
and a hot dog on a stick.

In the afternoon, we ventured back to John's Pass to see more alligators at the touristy Alligator Attraction. Much less stinky and more humane than I thought it'd be, the attraction turned out to be another highlight of the trip. For a fee, you could dangle a small piece of hot dog from a fishing pole and train/feed the alligators. We were instructed to tease them so they didn't get lazy--after all, they're not used to getting easy food in the wild.  Kalina and Elise both wanted to feed the gators, but soon handed their poles off to Matt once they discovered how much fun he was able to make the show. They're still quoting him, in fact: "Here's one on your noggin', oops, it's on your tail!"

Elise and her pinfish!

We met one of my relatives for lunch/dinner, and then headed back to the beach and pool to soak up as much water time as possible.

As the next day was our last, we hurried out the door first thing for a couple of hours of beach play before checkout. Daddy managed to keep almost all of the several pounds of shells we'd collected, and we managed to leave almost all of the sand at the beach--or at least the hotel room.

Matt and I had both expected tears on the way home, but although we all agreed we needed to get back sometime, the mood was strangely cheerful. This was a day of airport time--we arrived at the airport plenty early, plus we had a several-hour layover in New Orleans. We used the time to teach the children:
1) Everything is more expensive in an airport (we followed this up with a hands-on lesson at home about how grocery-store cinnamon rolls are much cheaper, plus the quality is often better)
2) Airports are set up so that even children can find their way around. Kalina and Elise managed to successfully locate the gate for a flight to Baltimore that would leave at 5:00.

Naomi and I made Sand
Biscuit!

The girls were pros at flying now, and much less nervous in general. Plus, they were tired, which equated to a quiet happiness rather than a meltdown frenzy--the difference between traveling with this age of children rather than certain other ages. Naomi would've fallen asleep during the final flight with her head on my lap if it had lasted 10 minutes longer.

As soon as we arrived back in Kansas City at bedtime (or an hour past bedtime since we'd been on Florida time with the Daylight Savings transition), Matt dashed off toward the shuttle buses to get the van, and I ushered the children into the bathroom--after all they may be half-asleep by the time we got home.

We began our slow walk to baggage claim, with me carrying Naomi and a shoulder bag and wearing a backpack. I thought nothing of it--Matt had taken my rollerbag so I was traveling light--but apparently we all looked pretty bedraggled, because at least one kindhearted gentleman let me know that "It get's easier!" Seriously, it gets way harder, too--any day we're stopping at the library after co-op I have way more luggage.

We received more sympathetic looks and a few offers of help as I dragged our shell-laden suitcases off the belt and we headed out to wait for Matt. It's nice to know there are so many kind souls in the world in case I ever do this alone. But the grocery store is actually harder.

The scene I envisioned at our
beach (actually, this is at the
Marine Aquarium)

Two out of three kiddos fell asleep on the way home, and slept in their clothes without brushing their teeth. Kalina opted for pajamas instead of teeth-brushing, and Matt and I settled in to enjoy a nice evening recapping the trip over cereal--after all, it was only 9:00 p.m. and everyone was settled. I changed the clocks to reflect Daylight Savings Time, which had happened over the course of our vacation, as I headed to bed.

The next morning, all was silent until 8:00. Wow, the kids must have been exhausted, I reasoned over a delightfully peaceful breakfast. Even better: they were good. And smart. Remembering it had been Daylight Savings, but not knowing I'd changed their clocks while they slept, they stayed quietly in bed until an hour past when they were allowed to get up. Which amounted to a long time, as they all woke up earlier than usual. For this amazing act of self-control and because Mommy was in a really good mood after waking late and eating breakfast all by herself, they received hot chocolate with extra marshmallows.