A Week In Paradise

Back before Three, The Husband & I were known to indulge in a beach vacation or two. I actually introduced The Husband to the concept of sitting on the beach and reading and only getting up when you want to go for a swim. And having the hardest decision of the day being what to have for dinner.

And then Three was born. I actually had grand plans of pictures of Three toddling down the beach in Aruba for his first birthday. I had the picture all but taken in my head months before he could crawl.

But The Husband has been squashing the idea of a beach vacation for almost three years now. He had valid reasons. My unplanned extended maternity leave. The whole saving for a house thing. Three needs a healthy 529 savings plan. Retirement. Yadda, yadda, responsibility, yadda.

He was also just plain terrified of taking Three on vacation and having nothing to entertain him but the ocean and sand. And of taking him on a plane ride longer than the 2.5 hours it takes to get to Disney.

But I am nothing if not persistent.  And finally this spring I wore him down. We settled on Puerto Rico and picked the week of Three’s birthday to go to help justify the trip.  4 hour flight away, no passport required,  and a couple of day trips (El Yunque – the rain forrest and the forts) to give us a break from the dreaded beach with nothing to do.

Not only did Three do pretty well on the plane, he  LOVED the ocean, and the pool, and the beach. In fact, he loved the beach enough that at MULTIPLE POINTS, The Husband and I were both sitting on beach chairs reading while Three played happily in the sand.

A lesser woman would tell the husband, ‘I told you so’.

I (mostly) let the pictures do the talking.