The Trip Home
Greetings to everyone.
We spent the remainder of our mini vacation relaxing. The hotel had a pool, a splash park and hot tubs.
Xavier first played in the splash area, then came to the pool. Following Mom's and Dad's example, walked down the steps into the water, sitting down on each step while he acclimated to the temperature. The water was cool, but not cold. After a few minutes, he was ready to Xavier-paddle around.
With Dad to support him, we chased Mom from one side of the pool to the other. Then, Xavier looked up at me with wide, expectant eyes which clearly held in them his intent and hope.
"Float," he said. I was somewhat taken aback by such precise and clear word usage. He wanted to float on the water rather than be carried through it. We found a position he liked and I held him at that level, then we bobbed around the pool.
During this time, Mom disappeared; the hot tubs called to her sore feet. Xavier noted Mom was missing. "Mama?" he asked with a concerned inflection. I answered him, "In the hot tub" while pointing in its direction.
Out of the pool and to the hot tub we went. At first, Xavier did not know what to make of it; the water was much warmer than he generally likes. But both Mom and Dad were now soaking in the tub, so he—needing to be a big boy and do whatever his parents did—slowly stepped down the stairs into the water., holding the hand rail all the way.
Once in, he loved it. We bobbed him around the tub (we were the only people in the tub). He explored all parts of it, walking along the circular seating area or sitting on a lap. Then Daddy popped out and turned on the bubbles. Those were the deal clinchers!
The next morning (Tuesday), Xavier waded into the pool, got wet, climbed out and ran to the hot tub (there were two, so he ran back and forth trying to choose which one he liked best). Never again did he go to the pool.
We took it easy Tuesday morning, then packed up and headed to the airport. This airport trip turned out to be more harrowing than in Denver, which is ironic since there were two adults to assist with luggage and Xavier. We were all tired, and a little uncoordinated.
I thought the Miami airport was horribly organized in its security line. Orlando International has Miami beat, no contest—you have to work to be this disorganized. What a wholly random, inefficient mess that was! The only plus was we did not have to remove our shoes.
Xavier and I got through the line, but Rebecca was stopped. Security saw suspicious items in her backpack and the TSA simply had to have a look. Rebecca packed two bottles of Pediasure® for Xavier (when I asked her "why?" she answered "because we spent ten dollars on it.")
After getting through security, we found a food court and ate lunch. Rebecca and I took turns watching Xavier and our carry-on luggage while the other visited the rest room. Then a diaper check/change for Xavier and to the gate.
The plane was about 95% full, but left on time. Half way through the flight, Xavier settled down. We had to move him from the window seat and put him between Rebecca and me for him to quiet down. He slept the rest of the flight. Even when Rebecca had to get out into the aisle, all the jostling did not disturb him that much.
A very tired little boy; the vacation wore him out. He needed to go home and rest.
