While we were very excited to have both the “kids” home for Christmas, it was not without some trepidation that we faced having four of us in our small house for two and a half weeks.  Frank and I did lots of prep work getting ready for their arrival and once here they did their typical college student thing: they slept.  A lot.  Like more that I would think was possible.  But what do I know?  I haven’t been able to sleep past 8:30 am since they were born.

So we settled into something that resembled a family pattern.  The big difference this Christmas is that they were coming “home” to a place where they don’t live and they don’t know anyone.  If we were still in NoVA, we would never see them because they would either be asleep or out with their friends.  Now their choice was to be asleep or hangout out with family.  Not quite the same thing.

But so far we are making things work.  Except for those morning where all four of us need to shower at roughly the same time (and our little water heater just can’t keep up), we are doing just fine.  Yes they sleep a lot but they also run errands for us, help keep the house tidy and generally try to be pleasant and helpful.  And it is a plus that we actually kinda like each other.  I spent the better part of the week before Christmas laid out with a nasty sinus infection and a touch of bronchitis so I wasn’t a ton of laughs to be around.  But that meant that they got some shopping done, learned their way around KC (they *love* Westport) and spend some time with dad.

Christmas itself was pretty quiet:  a fabulous Christmas eve dinner followed by 11pm service at our new St. Andrews.  This one is a little more high church than the one we attended in Virginia – we joked about the smells and bells but there was incense galore on Christmas eve.  The service was lovely and for the final carol of Silent Night, everyone had a candle that was lit during communion and the lights were dimmed for a candlelight sing.  It was really lovely.  Then home for cake, champagne and presents.  We were very clear that this year there would be few actual “things” for Christmas since both of them had to pack everything to take home on a plane and we pretty much stuck to that.  Their big gift from us was hotel rooms and spending money for the two of them to spend a few days together in Burlington and Montreal before coming to KC.  I understand it was a much enjoyed an appreciated gift.  And that’s where they found my awesome Christmas gift:   And they now have more room in their cases since this is staying right here in KC! Hopefully they won’t need to check a second bag to go home.

Partly because I wasn’t feeling well and party because we put the “fun” in dysfunctional, we spent much of the holiday so far working our way through 80’s movies: Raiders of the Lost Ark, Back to the Future, Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure, Strange Brew, Princess Bride, …. We have way too many such DVDs. We even borrowed some Jewish “traditions” and got some Chinese takeout on Boxing Day to have with our 80s adventure movies: the first two Terminator films.
Yes, I know that T2 came out in the 90s but it has some classic lines that they needed to see in context to make sure that their cultural education was complete.

And so we are through the first 10 days and have about a week left to go.  We’ve eaten, drank, joked, laughed, Yahtzeed and Scrabbled our way through a wonderful first half of the visit.  We’ve managed to take in some of the KC sites as well.  But that will have to be another post…. part 2….

We knew when we moved in to our neighborhood that it was cute and full of character.  That was a large part of the reason we chose to spend a little more money and live in Brookside rather than out in the burbs. (Add the shorter commute for me and shops and restaurants in walking distance and you’ve got the top three list). What we didn’t realize was that our neighborhood was a tourist attraction – especially at Christmas. I was recently trolling through the TripAdvisor entry for Kansas City only to see my neighborhood listed as attraction number 33 out of 82?  Huh?  How can a neighborhood be an attraction? (Disclaimer:  while I believe that my street officially falls within the borders of Brookside – it’s north of Gregory – we are much closer to Waldo which is a funkier, not quite so quaint neighborhood.  Waldo is not listed on TripAdvisor but it’s where we seem to spend most of our time.   I guess the tattoo parlors and thrift stores aren’t everyone’s cup of tea.)

We’ve had some lovely evenings lately walking around our neighborhood looking at the Christmas lights.  I may have mentioned that when the fountains go off, the lights go on a and that’s not just at Crown Center and the Plaza.    My whole neighborhood is decked out in lights. There are strings of red and white across tree limbs and coming down from the sky.  There are extension cords everywhere. Some of the impossibly cute houses have lights all along their impossibly steep roof lines.  So not wanting to be odd man out, yesterday we decided we would try to hang lights on our cute house as well. (If this were a reality show, there would be ominous music, a voice over and then we’d cut to commercial to increase the suspense.) Anyone who knows Frank and his love of heights will know what is coming next.  Even with the neighbor’s 30 foot ladder, we weren’t getting anywhere near the peak on the front of the house.  He tried climbing through the bathroom window and scaling the roof but the pitch is impossible so that approach wasn’t going to work either. (We did get the gutters cleaned while he was up there though.) So we conceded defeat.  We wandered around the neighborhood again last night to get some ideas on what else we might do to deck out the house.

And that’s when we really noticed the traffic!  In the 30 minutes or so of our walk, I counted no fewer than 6 limos and 3 tour buses (one a luxury long distance coach!) prowling through our neighborhood not to mention the dozens upon dozens of cars inching along gawking at the displays. The weather was mild so windows were down and we could hear the squeals of delight from little kids in the back seats of several cars.  There was one antique convertible with the top down , a large family crammed into the seats, merrily singing Christmas carols off key. Apparently, Christmas light tours are a big thing here in KC and our neighborhood is a prime stop. (Full disclosure:  our street is somewhat of a disappointment to the tourists I think.  I’m trying to decide if that makes me sad.)

So today we were determined to try again.

Instead of hanging lights from the peak of the roof, we decided that the upstairs bedroom window made more sense.  Add a few nets on the big bush out front and a string of lights along the back porch and I feel like we fit in a little better.  I also found out that there are professional services you can hire to come hang your Christmas lights (I was told it was a lucrative side line for local fire stations!) so I don’t feel quite so bad.  We were suspicious of how neatly the strings of lights matched up with the random roof lines – no draping strings of extra bulbs or trailing lights between gables.  I feel a bit vindicated and just a little proud of the minor effect we were able to create ourselves.

Now next year…..

Down the way where the nights are gay and the sun shines daily on the mountain tops
And so our final day in the sun is upon us. We have just gotten the routine down: coffee and juice on the patio, breakfast, read under the palm trees for a while, snorkel, lunch, more reading, walk on the beach, swim, drink, repeat.

Today we have a fabulous snorkeling outing – Frank finds a mask that fits! And we have the added attraction of a rum runner sunset cruise in the afternoon. That means a catamaran ride along the coast, rum punch and swimming in and out of caves along the coast. More rum punch on the way back, some impromptu line dancing on deck, and a fabulous sunset.

A return to the routine means champagne and iPod tunes while we shower and dress. Tonight’s dinner treat is the ” repeater’s dinner”, a special cocktail hour and 4 course dinner for those who have previously stayed at a Couples resort. Yup, that’s us since we were at their other Negril resort two years ago. We meet some very entertaining couples from Scranton, Richmond, and (surprise) Kansas City and had a lovely meal. (For Vanessa and others keeping score at home, all courses were gluten free except that I had to sub creme brûlée for desert.)

Then up to the piano bar where no one mentioned “the singer” but sing we did until the DJ started the dance music and we retired to catch the end of the Packer game (10-3 #gopackgo!)

And now we are waiting to board the flight home. We got in one more walk on the beach, one more swim, and one more fruity drink (Blue Lagoon anyone?) before it was time to board the bus for the long ride back to Montego Bay. While we originally thought 4 days would be too long, we have decided that 3 days in the sun is too short. So we’ll aim for 4 again on our next trip. If you are interested in a jaunt to Ocho Rios in February 2016, you just might have some company.

Day two started a little more slowly. Apparently cheap Chardonnay consumption is not conducive to a good night sleep or a clear head in the morning. No matter – it’s Sunday and even here everything slows down on Sunday. Except the wind. It was blowing forcefully from the start so yellow flags went out to signal caution for water sports. No worries mon – we’re going snorkeling!

We were booked on the 11 am snorkel trip which was just enough time to get breakfast and get rid of the hangover before heading into deeper waters. Today we didn’t want to mess with multiple meals so we headed for the buffet. An omelet, yogurt, fruit salad and lots of coffee helped set us right. Then off to a different reef for some zen time with the fishes. Frank still had problems getting a mask that fit right (Must. Not. Make. Nose. Joke.) so he cut his swim short but even in the choppy seas, it was beautiful watching the fish and the coral.

Back in time for lunch and again we headed to the buffet. More jerk chicken with callaloo and rice. And a gluten free dessert on the buffet! Okay it was creme brûlée which gets a bit boring after a while but at least they were making an effort. Walking out of the restaurant, we ran into the piano player from the bar the night before and chatted briefly about his hiccups. He had a terrible case while playing and I gave him the sure fire cure that I had gotten from the bar tender at the 19th hole at Pebble Beach years ago: a shot of angostura bitters on a slice of lemon. He never found the bitters but swears just the lemon worked. Then he asked if I was going to be at the piano bar on Monday since he so enjoyed my singing. WTF? No one enjoys my singing. Ask my daughter who actually has an amazing voice. We just laughed and said we would be there and wandered on.

A few hours later, we were walking by one of the bars when I heard a voice say “are you going to sing again tonight?” I turned to see one of the piano bar patrons who continued, “we really loved your singing, you were having such a good time and it was really good”. Huh? I thanked her graciously and said I planned to be at the piano bar on Monday since it was closed Sunday night.

The afternoon was pretty subdued since many of the regular activities don’t happen on Sunday and sometime after lunch the red flag went up for high winds and choppy surf. This meant no kayaking, waterskiing or other such activities. So swimming and walking along the beach were the main endeavors of the the day. We had just wandered out into the warm, impossibly clear and shallow surf when I heard a voice say “look it’s the singer”. Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Three women who had been at the piano bar then proceeded to tell me how much they enjoyed my singing and loved how I was so “into it”; they were also I pressed at how I knew all the words. I thanked them graciously and decided it was time for a walk.

One of the sad things about these types of resorts is that you don’t really see or understand the conditions outside of the compound. We got to see some of it as we sat in traffic trying to get out of Montego Bay on the ride in from the airport. There were lots of “entrepreneurs,” as the bus driver called them, selling everything you can imagine through the windows of stopped cars. There was a similar situation as we walked down the beach and passed public spaces and less affluent resorts and hotels. Every ten paces or so we would be offered pot but these entrepreneurs were very polite and always took no for an answer.

An afternoon of walking, napping, and drinking behind us and it was time to get ready for dinner. Tonight’s aperitif was cheap bubbly (French but not champagne) and we watched another beautiful sunset while the iPod played mellow 70s tunes in the background. Dinner would be later tonight as we had reservations at the fancy Thai restaurant. We drank martinis and played pool and talked our way into being seated at 8 even though our reservations were for 9. Same routine: chef comes out and tells me what I can and can’t order and we have a lovely dinner – sans cheap Chilean Chardonnay this time.

Heading back to the room after dinner, we passed a few folks heading into the bar. And what do I hear? “Hey Kelly – look! It’s the singer” Holy over rated vocal chords Batman! This is crazy! One last walk in the moonlight and we headed for an early bed. I suppose I should be well rested before my next “performance”.

And so we laze through our first full day in Jamaica. We arrived at sunset on Friday and when we went to check in we were offered an upgrade to an ocean front veranda room instead of the ocean view room we had booked. It would be an extra $106 per night but if that was too expensive for us, the clerk could ask the manager about a possible discount. Being an economist, I’m always interested in loosening the budget constraint so of course I want to hear about the discount. Then it began to feel like negotiating for a car – he went off to ask the manager and came back with a 15% discount offer. But he said that if that was still too much, he might be able to offer something better without the manager’s approval. How about $150 total for the upgrade? Cash preferred of course. Nudge nudge, wink wink. Not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, we found the ATM and got our new beach front room where it is about a dozen steps from out patio to beach chair.

By the time we got settled it was dark and we were starving so off to the Friday night beach BBQ we go. First step is find the chef to get the low down on what is gluten free. Jerk chicken? Check. Doesn’t really matter then that the curried goat is off limits. Grabbed plates full of food and settled at a table to chat with a couple from western Massachusetts and are joined shortly thereafter by two couples from KC. Overland Park and Olathe to be precise. It was their last night so we picked up tips on what was good before chatting about, what else, the Royals. An early night was in order so off we went to bed.

Room service brought our coffee earlier than expected but it was lovely having coffee and fruit on the patio before heading to the restaurant next door for another breakfast. That would be a theme for the day – double meals. As the resort is all inclusive, there is never a chance that we’ll go hungry but they are not overly generous on the portions – of which I approve. We had a light lunch before heading out to snorkel (swam right through a huge school of Sergeant Majors and followed a baby ray along a Coral reef) before heading to the spool side grill for burgers. (Second lunch)

Then the beach lounging and drinking began in earnest. Rum runners, Mai tais, planters punch, Miami vice,….. We worked our way through the rum drinks before a last swim and then shower and change for dinner. As we requested, bottles of wine had been delivered to our room so we sipped cheap Chilean Chardonnay and listened to Harry Belafonte while getting ready.

Dinner at the restaurant next door was pleasant but not inspiring – chef came out and walked me through the menu. Mussels okay, conch chowder no. It’s lobster night so would I like that? Yes please. Again, smaller portions since many people around us were having at least 4 courses. Which meant the 5 mussels for the starter and half a lobster tail with a small scoop of risotto wasn’t quite enough. So we walked across the resort to the other main restaurant and did it all over again. Beef carpaccio for a starter and half a lobster tail with potatoes for second dinner. This time we added two little gluten free cupcakes for dessert and Frank had one of the best key lime pies he says he has ever tasted.

The reggae band that had been playing during the meal went off stage to transition to the main entertainment for the night so we were off to the piano bar. More cheap white wine (grey goose martinis for Frank – he had the better plan!) and we were crooning with the rest of the drunken middle aged vacationers. I even took the mic for Brown Eyed Girl and did my best not to blacken the family name. Eventually the piano goes quiet and the disco lights start flashing – our cue that it’s bedtime. We’ll get to do it all over again tomorrow.