So, remember when ilya was terrified of being anywhere near water when we signed her up for those swim lessons about a year ago? Remember how worried I was that she would grow up hating the water and never learn to swim? Apparently all she needed was a tropical sun and a pool that was designed specifically with her in mind complete with a shallow end consisting of about 1 foot of water that occupied half the pool. She was in heaven. She apparently doesn't remember her fear of swimming because she jumped right into the water like she was born to be there.
This love of water, however, does not extend to the ocean. Ilya is convinced that the ocean is some sort of monster that will certainly gobble her up if she is anywhere within a 30 foot radius of the thing. This fear extends to family members, which is really quite sweet if you think about it. Every time I would jump into the ocean, she would cry and cry until I came back out (alive, surprisingly). She did enjoy building sand castles and being buried in the sand.
Ilya also loved running around bear foot and saying "hola" to everyone she passed. She did NOT enjoy the plane ride. Neither did the people sitting next to us, now that I think about it. We did everything we could to entertain her, including offering to let her watch "Blues Clues" TV for the first time EVER, but there is only so much that can be done in a 3 foot by 3 foot area. Just in case you were wondering, the TV managed to entertain her for approximately 5 minutes!
Other, non-Ilya related details: Adam and I took a day off, courtesy of Grandma Mel, to go on the "Bora Bora" while Ilya stayed behind with Grandma to play on the beach. The tour consisted of waiting a very long time in the rain (yes, it does rain in Puerto Vallarta) to board a ship with very loud spanish music blaring constantly. We had wanted to go on this tour because it was billed as a "snorkeling adventure." The "snorkeling adventure consisted of 10 minutes of watching three fish eat left-over fruit with 50 other people, many of whom were kicking you in the face the entire time. There was a spanish DJ whose job it was to entertain the passengers. I wouldn't know as he only spoke spanish, and the one time I did venture downstairs, I was confronted with a half naked 50 year old, overweight Mexican man doing a strip tease. I am not making this shit up. There just isn't enough alcohol in the world to make that entertaining.
The rest of the trip was lovely complete with tropical sunsets, sunbathing, excellent food and more sun than rain. They kept playing holiday music, which really weirded me out as it was about 80 degrees outside, but I guess Christmas happens on December 25th no matter where you are in the world.
I read Julie/Julia on the beach and got inspired to spend a year cooking a an entire recipe book while blogging about it. Then I got uninspired when I realized that the indulgences that I had already partaken in thus far on the trip had increased my waistline far more than I would like to admit and cooking french food with all that butter would do nothing to help this problem. I did agree to reconsider the idea if Adam could find a cookbook that was a chicken and sea food only dairy-free cookbook. Anyone out there have any good suggestions?
My skin, has once again, stubbornly refused to turn any colors other than red or white. I, however, having learned from previous mistakes (Thailand) decided to maintain my chalky white color rather than the oh-so-attractive red color that seams to be all the fashion this season. I love the holiday season, but I must draw the line somewhere.