Our Trip To La Ceiba

Pictures from Cuero y SaladoA Baby Croc

View from the Boat

Firefly

My Fun Trip To Stanford

My uncle came down from Arizona the night before to be there for the Stanford appointment. My mom, of course, didn't want to go. She was nervous and shaking before my uncle arrived and I'm telling her to calm down and relax.

So the day of, she was of course nervous, as were we. We had a lot riding on the Stanford thing. It was just a consultation with a neurologist, but we wanted her to stay there until they find out what the hell is wrong with her. But we knew that wasn't going to happen.

We take two vehicles, my dad, the kids and I are in his truck (with the broken AC mind you), and my stepdad, uncle and mom are in the other car. We follow each other almost 2 hours to Stanford until of course we lose each other. But it's ok because my dad has a general idea where it is. Miadora, sitting in the back, wakes up - and throws up all over herself...4 or 5 times. Crap. She's totally soaked. I wasn't familiar with the Palo Alto area but I tell my dad to keep driving until we find a clothing store. Lo and behold, we see Stanford Shopping Center! We drive there and keep driving until I find a store...which took a while. Then I see it - GAP KIDS! Yay! Now, don't get me wrong, I have never shopped at a GAP...you know, for the whole children slave labor/sweat shop thing, but I was desperate. I actually thought the clothes were really cute! I guess I'm allowed to let my social consciousness go to rest every now and then, especially when your daughter is waiting in a truck soaked in her own puke. I pick out two outfits, with shoes, because, yes, she did throw up on her shoes too. Thank goodness it was a watery puke, not a food puke. I go to the counter and I'm rushing big time. "Would you like to apply for a GAP credit card?" she asks. No, not now...

I get to the car and I clean her up and put on her new clothes. Very cute. Although they were made in Philippines, where I was born. Still, they were cute.

(pictured) Miadora's new GAP outfit, outside Stanford Medical Center.

Finally we go to the Stanford Medical Center and we catch up with my mom.

Give Me Window Seats or Give Me Death!

I took a different route to California this time around because of the airport situation in Honduras. I took a 5 hour bus trip to San Salvador, then waited for 4 hours, then took a 6 hour flight to San Francisco. Yes, it was as rough as it sounds. I had two children with me, one who had a fever that wouldn't go down and who was also teething.

I didn't think the bus trip would be a big deal, but it actually was. True to Honduran tradition, it actually didn't leave until about an hour after the original departure time. The bus stopped by Wendy's for a to-go breakfast. Cool, I thought. On the TV monitor was a Martin Lawrence movie. Not so cool I thought. The first two hours were super rough because of the winding roads. I've taken those winding roads before but this was rougher because we were on the second level of the bus and not being able to see the whole road made me car sick. Luckily the baby was asleep for most of the first two hours. Then he woke up...and cried almost the whole way. We didn't know what to do. He was teething and had very little sleep the night before - nothing was soothing him.

We arrive at the border between Honduras and El Salvador and I was actually kind of excited. I had heard that El Salvador was very similiar to Honduras, only the roads are better. We drive slowly past a bridge and I see this beautiful mountain overlooking this dirty river. Still - I focused on the mountain. Nice, I thought, we're in El Salvador, how exciti...just then...a man with a garbage can walks alongside the bus and throws the contents of the can over the freaking bridge and into the river! WTFH????

We go through immigration and I hear a man outside repeatedly yelling in Spanish if anyone would like to exchange lempiras for dollars, the currency in El Salvador. I didn't feel like I was in danger or anything, it just reminded me of a Harrison Ford movie.

Two hours later, we arrive in San Salvador, the capital city. Our friend, his daughter and their driver are there waiting for us. They take us to their house. Their daughter is my daughter's best friend from when they used to live in Honduras, so it was a great reunion for the children. They have a baby too so it was perfect combination. We stayed at their house for about 4 hours. We ate lunch and the kids played, just like old times in Honduras. About an hour and a half before my flight, the driver takes us to the airport. My daughter starts dozing off and so does my son for a little bit. Great, I thought. I was counting on them sleeping during this night flight.

So anyway, we get to the airport ticket counter and for some unknown reason to fuck up everything, they have changed my tickets from a window seat, sitting together with the children to middle seats several rows apart! Great idea, idiots. So not only will I travel alone with the children, but I'm going to have to fight with these crapheads to get us to sit together. I show the dude my printed confirmation with our assigned seats that were supposed to be CONFIRMADO. He says I'll have to change it once I get in the gate. Shit. So I started to walk to the gate and I look at my teething, crying son and I'm like...well, shit. I start to have a minor panic attack at the thought that my husband will not fly with us and I will get NO help. So I say goodbye to him and I'm like, I don't feel good. But I had to suck it up I guess and I promptly said goodbye to my husband. I go through the gate and my daughter drops her cup. As she's getting off the stroller, the whole thing topples over. I'm like, nice. So I go through the security totally tired and not looking forward to the flight. I go through the other ticket counter and I'm like, dude, I have confirmed seats together, what happened? He gives me some babble and walks me over to the other counter. The baby is in the stroller screaming his head off. Other passengers to-be were probably like, great, I have to fly with her? But at that point, I couldn't care ANY less. As I open my purse, the zipper breaks. Ugh.

I go through the other gate and they said that they can find seats for us together, but it's not a window seat. I tell them that I have confirmed seats that were supposed to be by the window. This is a 6 hour flight, I'm not going to back down. I'm going to be a bitch here. I have a crying baby with me after all. I say that I'd like to speak to the manager. If I can't get a window seat, I'm going to accept a free travel voucher or whatever, but I'm not going to let them do this to me and my children. The manager comes and he speaks with the representative. He doesn't even talk to me. He goes out walking to the waiting area and speaks to a few people. Great, he was going to make me look bad and persuade others to give up their seats because of me, when I had window seats to begin with. Finally he comes back and tells me that I got window seats together. Mission Accomplished. Kind of.

The plane ride was equally horrible. Daughter slept almost right away and didn't wake up until we were there. Teething, fevering son didn't fare as well. While he did sleep an hour into the flight, he kept waking almost every hour, crying. Loudly. It took about 15 to 20 minutes put him back to sleep. It was a nightmare. The passengers probably thought he was a difficult baby, but they had no clue that he's teething. He's such a sweet and happy baby and it sucked seeing him like that. Then, we arrive in SF. Finally.

I didn't realize that I had to get my own bags. Before, our usual route in Houston, I had to pick up my bags, I knew that. But SF was my final destination, I just didn't realize that I had to pick up my bags inside the terminal, and not outside, where my dad could help. I grab 3 huge bags and put them on the cart thingie. Baby is in the stroller and daughter is walking. I'm pushing a stroller and a cart of 3 bags, plus holding my daughter's hand. Finally someone asked if I needed help. At first I was relunctant, then I said, screw it. Hell yeah, I needed help. He walks me over to where my dad is waiting on the other side. I give him $5.

Next came the 2 hour drive home. Baby was of course crying the whole way. But we reached our destination safe and sound so I can't complain too much.