Last night, our last Sunday here on this trip, we decided to finally sneak out and go to Sunday School in Buccoo.
What I really want to see is live steel pan, and Sunday School is supposed to have it.
When my sister-in-law Cindy asked if I wanted to do a 5k this morning with a group from her gym, it sounded like a good idea.
I ran cross country and track through high school and college, and it became a huge part of my identity. I have kept running since then, but joint pain has slowed me down over the last couple of years. I miss running regularly. Even more, from my team running days, I miss running with a group.
I found out the run was at 5 a.m. Then, I learned we would need to leave The Compound at 4:45 a.m. to get there. I was awake all night, afraid my alarm wouldn’t go off. The three little boys all kept me company at one point or another, which didn’t help. Finally, after feeding the baby, it was 4:20 and I decided to just get up and get ready.
We left The Compound around 11 a.m. in two cars.
Despite many opportunities to join us, our oldest begged off. Roads here are narrow, winding, and frequently change elevation; even dramamine didn’t make a drive appealing to him.
We drove north to Castara, stopping along the way to see a little waterfall a short walk down a stairway, and just out of sight of the road.
For a long time, I thought I was a flexible person. I loved going new places, trying new foods, and meeting new people.
As time has passed, I have realized I am not that flexible.
I’ve read so many tips for easing travel with kids, and most of them involved mess or more work for the parents (individually wrapped gifts to be opened hourly on the flight, anyone?) And any parent knows that if your kid is having a certain kind of day, NOTHING you do is going to help.
With something like this, you just have to say a prayer and put on your game face.
