Small Slice

Holy moly.  We are at the last day of our vacation-o-rama, and that, my friends, is a good, good thing.  I'm listening to my poor mom referee as my children bicker and snicker.  I'm in repacking mode, to be followed by survival until it's time to return the rental car and board the plane. 

To think, I was once one of those mothers who would NEVER give a child Benedryl when they weren't officially ill.  Heh.  Benedryl for everyone! 

I'm off my training schedule now until Monday, and then I'm busting down my plans a bit.  The shin splints are not happening, but I think I was a little ambitious right off the bat.  Our Man Hal Higdon has a 30 minutes of running-walking for 30 days plan to build a good base to begin training, and I plan on talking Kim into joining me on that, before we get back to our 5K training plan.  I think my shins will thank me later.

Remember my big old whopping bruise on my calf from the horse riding incident?  It is finally healed.  The day before I left for vacation, I tripped (so graceful!) and whacked that same leg on the knee - luckily I smacked below the kneecap, no harm done except for a bruise.  That bruise was fading nicely when we headed to the Typhoon Lagoon waterpark yesterday.

Typhoon Lagoon was a beautiful waterpark, and we had typical Lauck family fun, which involves five different ideas about what we want to do, and several stops for popsicles.  After getting blasted in the face, then the back of my head, then my butt by some bratty kids with water cannons in the children's play area, we made our way down to the Lazy River, where I wedged my Big Slice Panties into a chubby inner-tube and floated around the park.

They also have a huge wave pool there, and my husband and oldest daughter waded into the throngs of screaming people, while I stayed in the shallows with the two youngest.  Every time a wave headed toward the "beach" I would scoop my three-year-old onto my hip and hold my son by his wrist, and then braced myself for the rush of water.  After the fifth wave, a very large woman sat down in the surge about 15 feet in front of me, and as she swept backwards with the surge, she took out my famously bruised leg.  Ow.  Luckily, I held on to both kids and managed to retreat a bit, to avoid any further collisions with body surfers.

After a while, my husband and oldest appeared, and we switched.  I was going to ride some waves!  I would embrace my inner swan!  I would glide gracefully through the crashing, chlorinated surf! 

Heh.  On the very first wave, as I turned and prepared to leap with the wave, a kid next to me slammed into my back, driving my (hello! already bruised!) knee into the concrete bottom.  Then the wave hit, and I skidded along the bottom.  Then I stood up, bloodied and battered and dragged my complaining daughter back to her father.  Woo!  I know how to have a good time.

The little kids and I went up and made sand castles and left my husband and daughter to surf until they puked.  (Not really.) Finally, sun-weary and stiff, we made our way home. 

Yes, I am truly graceful and elegant in the water.  Let's all be glad that I never took up synchronized swimming.  I return home with a stiff, scraped and bruised knee, and memories that will last a lifetime.  Ah, vacation.