So Mallorca is one of our favorite vacation spots.
We usually hit it at Easter time to get away from the grays of Paris Winter that sometimes carries over to Spring. But this past Easter, John was so busy with work, and me, with the kids, that the Easter holiday came and went almost before we even noticed. Since we missed our pilgrimage to all things warm and beachy, lots of sun, pools, golf, and tennis, I begged John to consider taking us in High Season. As usual, he did not disappoint. He spoils us. We even go to one of my favorite places in the world-The Campers Shoes Outlet. Today, we bought 12 pairs of shoes there. Can you imagine?
But I'm reflecting on where we were last summer at this point, and two summers ago: Two summers ago, our heads were still spinning. Parker had his hydrocephaly surgery two Easters ago. Poor lil guy could hardly hold up his head as the girls hunted for eggs in Marbella. I remember it too well. Then we headed for the reprieve of my parents' pad in PV so the girls could swim, and we could check out the John Tracy Clinic in LA, and continue to drag him to Physical Therapy session 2-3 times per week. We needed that safe haven.
The following Easter was that volcanic cloud craze, and there were no flights for days into or out of Europe. My prince charming heroically navigated our family of seven through storm clouds and 12 hours of driving to make it to Mallorca, rain or shine, flights or not! We really needed a vacation, and the sun. Then last summer we spent surrounded by loads of cousins and love and fun in the good ol' US of A. It was fab, but so much work.
This summer we are just chillin, and after three years of running, I think it's ok for us to stop and catch our breaths.
Mallorca has never seemed so much like Southern California to me before. It's where I grew up, and I have only warm fuzzy feelings associated with all things SoCal. My parents and upbringing were, in retrospect, picture perfect.And Mallorca is now representing all happy family thoughts for me. The sun shines here on average the same number of days per year as Southern California, over 300. And after living
in Europe a year or two, and staying in a myriad of inconsistently rated hotels, John and I decided we were lifelong fans of Marriot. So here
we come, to sunny days, nice amenities, and consistent quality. The girls take tennis lessons, and we play golf. And we do lots and lots of
swimming, and barbecuing.
But if we had come at Easter this year, the twins would not have been three. And you can't go to kids' club till you are three.
Parker and Penelope head out to kids club every morning with three big sisters for loads of fun: face painting, tattoos, football, mask-making, mini golf, bowling, swimming, shooting games, lots of Barbies for the little girls, and balls and climbing structures for boys. There are always lots of sparkles on the girls' faces when I pick them up, and remnants of chocolate cookies, or lollipops in grubby little hands.
I can't tell you how amazing it is to drop off five little ones in great hands, knowing that every single morning, or afternoon, they return with
new ideas, new stories, new friends. And in the back of my mind, I'm always worried in these types of settings, they will say the first time I drop off Parker, "I'm sorry, we cannot accommodate handicapped children." Or I carefully monitor their faces when I explain his hearing aid/implant like it's no big deal...and afraid they will reject him.
And they did not refuse him. Or reject him. And in between our mom and dad visits to the gym, or hitting range, we've caught glimpses of them outside on their way to kids' yoga or on a pirate treasure hunt, and each of our children look happy, content, well-adjusted. Even Parker.
But the thing about Parker that Abby really wanted me to post about is how NAUGHTY he is! Parker is a crazy little man-boy. Endlessly full
of energy, and joy.
Everything is a ball or sword to him. To bribe him out of the driver's seat of the car, you have to tell him you will play ball with him. When it's time to eat, he runs to the table saying in his deaf lil man voice while signing inquisitively, "ice cream? ice cream?". He woke up from his nap a few days ago, (and the rest of the villa was quiet, the girls were at kids' club and John was playing golf), and I thought I heard the front
door open and shut. I opened the door to find Parker sprinting to one of two swimming pools within 100 meters from our place. Every time the back door is open, he literally pushes people and things over to get some fresh air. I've built an impressive blocade from our garden to the common areas with a combo of lawn chairs and a sun umbrella. It deters him for a few minutes, at least slowing him down long enough for us to catch him before he decides to take a dip with his costly headgear or goes missing into the street or something.
If you want to distract him from something, the ultimate bribe is to say, "Parker, do you want to go outside?" He will say, "Ow-sigh? Ow-sigh?" until he is pacified. We are terrified he'll wake up to go swimming in the middle of the night, so we barricade the front door, and tie the back door shut. He throws food at the table. He stabbed Hannah in the eye with a fork at lunch awhile back. Axelle refuses to sit by him during mealtimes, no one can blame her. He reaches into the fire while John is cooking on the BBQ. It's like he has no concept of danger. My dad said today, "He seems to feel no pain". Each time you put him down in a public place, he literally runs as far away as he can as quickly as he can from you. When you tell him, "No,", he will stop, turn and look at you, and smile the cutest smile you've ever seen, at you, in attempt to change your mind. Literally, the sun shines from his smile, and little face. Usually, you can't help but smile back at him... And
he takes that as an unspoken consent to his naughtiness.
He's plain naughty, and always into trouble. I just hope it's a phase, and he grows out of it.
I honestly can't believe he stayed still long enough for them to paint his face on Pirate Day. I asked Abby who held his head still? She
replied, "Me, of course!"
He's a naughty little pirate, and we are so happy he's here with us!
