After a wonderful night on the beach, we carried two very sleepy kiddos from the parking lot all the way to our 4th floor room at the Embassy Suites. We tucked them in their beds and closed the door to the bedroom, hoping to wind down a bit ourselves and order a drink or two from the hotel bar. We sipped gin and tonics, planned our day ahead, and talked about how smoothly the trip had been thus far. Shortly after midnight, I tiptoed in the bedroom to climb in bed. My head had barely hit the pillow when to my horror, Cruz sat up, and threw up, everywhere. I instinctively went into supermom mode, grabbing an empty ice bucket and desperately trying to remove surrounding targets, all the while praying Mila stayed asleep in her crib, less than a foot from his bed. I don't do well with kids puking, and really don't do well with kids puking away from home. Fortunately, Cruz is a good sport with the whole thing, and after a fresh pair of pajamas, he was back to sleep within minutes. Mortified, Beau and I called the front desk to get some assistance with our mess.
I'll spare you most of the details, but let's just say the young manager working that night should receive employee-of-the-month for the next twelve months. In his three-piece suit, he took over as housekeeping that night, and together, the three of us were able to strip the bed, clean the carpets, and reassemble fresh bedding, all thanks to the flashlights on our phones. Mila stayed asleep through the entire process and we hoped we were in the clear. I tell ya, though, there is nothing like a little vomit to really dampen your vacation! I didn't sleep much the rest of the night, worrying about Cruz, wondering about finding a doctor in Tampa if need be, fretting over who would get it next, who would get it on our flight back home, and how the rest of our trip would go. Being sick on vacation has always been a subtle fear in the back of my mind and I was now living in that reality. My peace of mind was shot and it seemed so were our plans for the following day. I was bummed, but still hopeful Cruz would bounce back quick and the rest of us would be spared.
After a very short night, Cruz seemed to feel pretty good the next day. Still not knowing if he had a bug or if it was simply a mixture of too much heat, too much Powerade, and too much salt water, we decided to take it easy that morning and stick close to our hotel. I found a nearby grocery store and stocked up on applesauce, bananas, and the makings of an easy picnic lunch, and by the time I got back, Cruz was dressed in his swimming trunks and ready to head to the pool.
Our slow day following a very big day ended up being a blessing in disguise for all of us. We had the entire pool to ourselves for most of the morning, and the kids had a blast swimming with their new floaties. I made some sandwiches and we shared a simple poolside picnic lunch together, to which it seemed Cruz's appetite had bounced back. After lunch, we knew naps were in store for all of us. Beau and the kids napped in our hotel room, and I scored a nap, some time with my book, and a pina colada in a lounge chair at the pool, all by myself. Surely our plans to spend the day at the beach would have been great, this ended up being a close second and just what the doctor ordered for our kiddos.
By the time I got back to our room, I walked in to find my two little monkeys jumping on the bed, their trademark hotel move for the week. We took baths and showers, got ready for the night, and decided to head back to Clearwater a little earlier, for another sunset, more seafood, and more time to play.
We were blessed with another gorgeous night at Pier 60. In order to prolong Cruz's inevitable swim in the ocean, we decided to start on the pier and check out what the fishermen were catching. Every night, Clearwater has a festival called Sunsets at Pier 60, where the large pier fills up with street vendors and performers. We watched jugglers and fire breathers, magicians and pirates, but mostly watched Mila chase pelicans and say hello to every passerby we met. She looked like a beach baby with her fresh tan and aqua blue dress, her curls tight thanks to the Florida humidity. Little miss friendly was much happier on the wood planks of the pier than the sand, and we took our time exploring this chill, but bustling beach location. We had fresh grouper sandwiches at this tiny little surf shack called The Bait House, let the kids play on the playground next to the beach, and headed down to the surf to watch the sun set under a clear, cotton candy sky, a much different sky than our night before. Shortly after the sun went to sleep, the thunder clouds rolled in behind us, ready to cool off the earth with a refreshing rainstorm. It was exciting and romantic to make our way to the car knowing we would be serenaded with rain on our windows as we made the trip back to our hotel. It was a good, restful day for us, and I prayed we would have a much more restful night than our one previously.
So happy to see this little boy happy and healthy!
Our night at Pier 60...
Stay tuned... :)
