see that pic up there?
Let me tell you the story behind it. Grab a cup of tea, put your feet up and get comfy. You're about to join me in rural Mexico.
The other day we had reservations for a cabin at Santa Maria del Oro, deposit paid & receipt in hand, it was 8:00a.m. and our desired departure was in an hour. As Mr. P showered and packed his clothes, I rushed around the house, list in hand, stuffing diapers, clothes, towels and sunscreen into a carry-on roller, setting out oatmeal and honey, making sure I had enough coffee ground, and stocking the nooks and crannies of the car with plentiful snacks. (ranging from Puffs to homemade "trail mix")
We left on time, gas tank full, car weighed down, WeeSing playlist bumpin'. The trip was uneventful... unless you count me squatting to pee on the pavement next to the four lane highway a significant "event."
But you guys. This lake? Is breathtaking. Pre-kids it was probably Mr. P & my favorite getaway spot. We hadn't dared the adventure with our boys yet, and it was time. So there we found ourselves gasping yet again when the lake finally came into view. Even Solo stopped mid-sentence when he laid eyes on it for the first time.
After taking in the view we drove down the winding road to the lakefront in search of our cabin. Solo was doubtful that there really was a road that would lead us to the water, but he complied.
Our cabin was... how do I put this... DISGUSTING.
Dirty, old, nasty. Even Solo was grossed out. He kept walking around on his tippy toes so his feet wouldn't touch the grubby tile floors. Over and over we had to reassure him that we would just stay one night. No, we weren't going to live here. Yes, we still have our other house. Honestly, a few hours in, we started to wonder if this was all a bad idea. Could we really survive a night in a grody cabin with two small boys dependent on us for their livelihood?!?
really, mom? this was the best you could do?
Thank goodness the view redeemed ... well ... EVERYTHING.
Needless to say, we survived the night. & what followed the next morning was magical.
We set out for a early morning walk after a breakfast of oatmeal and fresh strawberries. Solo sped ahead on his "Gravel Blaster" (bike) and I carried Rainer on my shoulders. We walked down to the dock to find it quiet, calm and completely empty. Of course. At 9:00 a.m. Mexican campers are still sound asleep.
I knew that something had to happen for this trip to step it up a notch. To be memorable. To be magical. Thankfully I had my swim suit bottoms on underneath my skirt. I grabbed Solo (well, first I fished the junebug out of Rainer's mouth and hollered at Mr. P to get the camera ready) and peeled off his t-shirt, threw my skirt on the dock ramp and told him we were jumping in. (He had yet to go in the water at this point) His first reaction was, Cool! But in a quick 2.5 seconds that changed to NO FREAKIN WAY, MOM.
So, I did what any loving mother would do. I picked him up and hurled us both into the lake.
The rest is history.
