Vacation!

When we finally realized that this year would be the last for us in Europe, the panic set in a little. We've had plenty of reasons to postpone traveling (back problem, difficult pregnancy, back surgery, paying off debt, new born, back surgery, saving money, more morning sickness, etc.), but this year was it and we had to get out and see the rest of Europe. We've seen a lot of Germany and a wee bit of France through our day trips and short overnight stays, but that was about it. So I watched airfare sales like a hawk and did all kinds of research to line up our trips. Prague was supposed to be the first stop to coincide with Wil's school stuff near the boarder. He left for school right before I had to have my wisdom teeth pull, and as I mentioned before, I thought the exhaustion I felt while visiting him was a result of an infection. I was infected alright. With a baby. So needless to say, we didn't see Prague unless Prague was located on the back on my eyelids that were tightly closed. No worries, he'll be in school plenty more times this year, so I think Prague is well-covered. Next was Cinque Terre and the third was Rome. I booked both these trips before I realized that I was pregnant and was mighty grateful when I found out that we were indeed pregnant again that I could lounge in the relaxing Cinque Terre during my rough first trimester (it was still rough even with Zofran) and was hoping that I would have more energy to brave Rome as I went into the second trimester. Well, I was half right. Cinque Terre was everything everybody told us it would be and more. The lemon trees were heavy with gorgeous fruits all over the 5 villages, the sun was out, the sea was a captivating shade of blue-green, the food was amazing, and the view everywhere was breathtaking. I don't have enough big words to describe how great the trip was, so let's do it with some pictures. Oh, we also got to see the Leaning Tower of Pisa while waiting for our trip back home, so that was a nice little cherry on top of an already exceptional experience.

We took that trip at the beginning of April, a few weeks before Chase's 2nd birthday. The rest of April was occupied by my all-day sickness and Chase's first ever experience of getting to watch TV everyday. Then came May. If you read our last post, you know how horrendous May was in this household. Hospital visit after hospital visit. I had never been so scared out of my mind--not even when Wil was in the operating room for 10 straight hours. Her first ever sickness that required an aid of antibiotics turned into a 2-week battle with a raging infection and fever that were caused by a virulent bacteria that just wouldn't die. Well, not after the first two antibiotics anyway. I had already abandoned the idea of going to Rome, because there was no way Chase was going to get better in time and I was beyond exhausted. My mind was not anywhere near traveling, but after nearly two weeks of 103˚-104˚F fever that I didn't even know a tiny human body could sustain, antibiotic #3 came through (I LOVE you, Cefdinir) and she slept 8 hours straight without fever or upchucking. It took a few more days before the dreaded temperature finally went away for good, and then the boys got sick. First, it was poor Paddy, our beloved 102-lb big boy, who had explosive diarrhea all over the house. And this was 2 days before Rome was supposed to happen, ok? We cleaned up the mess as much as we could ourselves and called in the professional to finish the job. Now I really wasn't going to Rome, but my husband wouldn't budge. "We needed a break," he said. Yes, we sorely did.

And so, last Friday we made our way to the airport. It was the first time we used Frankfurt International Airport's Holiday Parking, which is basically a long term parking, and I did enough research and asked around to know that I should budget about 30 additional minutes for catching a shuttle back to the airport (Holiday Parking is so far away from the main airport and remote, we actually drove pass a sign that said we were leaving Frankfurt altogether on our way there). We parked our car, dragged our luggage to the shuttle stop, and waited. There were a few people there ahead of us and they said they had already called for a shuttle. We waited some more and more people joined us. About 5 more calls were made through out the hour that we were stranded there (there were no taxis around either) and by the time the airport people sent out a big enough bus to pick up all of us, we knew we were going to miss our check-in time. No problem, I'm sure they can bump us to the next flight with a small penalty, right? No, apparently. Because the tickets I got were on some kind of super sale and came with super strict restriction, no changes could be made at all. But "good news," the ticket agent informed us. There are just enough seats available on the next flight to Rome but it's going to cost 500 Euro for 3 new tickets. I looked at Wil and he looked at me. Of course, this will be happening to us. We tried contacting the airport authority, who were nice enough to tell us that we could file a claim but there was no way in hell we were going to get reimbursed today, if at all, to use the money to buy the new tickets. I wasn't about to fork over more money without a guarantee that a check was on its way to our house. So there we were. 8 o'clock in the morning at Frankfurt airport, all dressed up (except for Slacker Chase, who was still in her PJs), with luggage in tow, and nowhere to go. Mad wasn't quite accurate for my state of mind. While in the car on our way back home, Wil and I quietly discussed what the heck we were going to with our 4-day weekend while Chase asked loudly and repeatedly what happened to the airplane. We couldn't stay home because I would end up killing the first stranger that unfortunately rang my doorbell. A quick trip home to regroup, do research, eat, and we decided to drive to Paris. We would get there by dinner time and the forecast said Paris would have the best weather out of all the cities within our 4-hour drive radius. The drive was boring for about the first 3 until Chase started to come undone. The poor baby had been through so much the last month plus she had been up since 5 a.m. that day for the trip that never was. Rush hour traffic on a Friday turned our 4.5 hour trip to an almost 6 and Chase was losing it by this point. I climbed into the backseat with her to feed her a soggy chicken sandwich that I brought for emergency pregnancy hunger pang. She devoured almost all of it before we reached the hotel. And that's where the ugly May ceased to exist and we were brought back to life by Paris.

There's not much more I can add to what has already been said about Paris besides that it was fabulous to the infinite power and was exactly what we needed. We took the subway everywhere, which delighted our darling baby, aimed to get lost and wander, and always came upon a gigantic historic structure with a huge surprise. The food, the energy of the city, the street performers, the sites, the crazy people, our hotel, Paris' parks and playgrounds, their surprisingly friendly and eager to help locals, the food, the food, the food!!! We walked 4-5 hours straight everyday and by the time we crawled back to the hotel around dinner time, I felt like I might be giving birth in the bath tub. But by the end of a fantastic breakfast buffet spread the next morning, we were ready to tackle everything all over again. It was the most amazing trip of our lives. Wil and I got a chance to relax and reconnect after having been so stressed and survived the worst 2 weeks of our lives with bare minimum sleep. It also made such an impression that Chase is still talking about it 4 days later, which in toddler time is about 100 years ago. Our second night there before we headed out to dinner, Chase was getting her diaper changed by Wil while I was stroking her hair and we all were sitting on the bed together. She looked up at me with a smile and said "thank you Momma, I had a lot of fun today." Tears. Thank YOU, Paris!