St. Croix with the Baby

We don’t plan. We just do.

When we got together, Rich promised to take me to Paris. He didn’t realize how unnecessary that was.

We never needed that one huge vacation. We needed–and will always need–to be able to come up with something sudden, share the look, and make it happen.

I know that doesn’t work for everyone.

But back when Rich worked overnights at dispatch we learned to appreciate our impulsivity.

We learned take advantage of a shared love of adventure, that quirky urge to catapult out of the ordinary into the extraordinary, even for a moment or two.

Recently, work took him to St. Croix. Rich saw the schedule, searched a minute for flights, said “meet me in St. Croix with the baby.”

And that was that.

Carambola Beach Resort, USVI

Our parents watched the older three while baby (Noa) and I headed for her first adventure. She was a riot, perfectly suited for onthespot travel.

I understand that people are scared to travel right now.

But I found travelers, and airport and plane staff, to be wonderfully competent and respectful–both in Miami International and Henry E. Roslen airports. I felt safe and lucky.

From Thursday to Sunday, we three ate, drank, and breathed in the island, hiking in the mornings, navigating the roadways in the afternoons (it’s quite a thing to drive on the “wrong” side of the road) and the hotel bar menu at nights. We chatted up locals, travelers, transplants, and wildlife. It was the perfect postbaby getaway, a much-needed reminder that the world isn’t–in fact–over. That there will be more adventures to come.

This was a dream location, especially to a girl with cherished Puerto Rican roots. But don’t forget your local oases. Rich and I steal away to Orlando, Jacksonville, and Miami as often as we can.

And we’re not exactly Bear Grylls (I prefer a mattress to a tent), but we don’t shy away from outdoor adventures. With the kids we’ve camped on the beach, canoed alligator canals (with Jack–our infant at the time–at the helm in a bumbo seat), and hiked to the womb of the world in Tecate, Mexico (more on that later).

I know that making time to travel can seem impossible.

We both worked in Broward–I taught high-school English and Rich was a 911 dispatcher. When we met I had 2 kids under 4, and soon came babyontheway. Our time and money were stretched to the breaking point.

It wasn’t good. We spent far more time fighting in the shadows than laughing in the sun.

We still do, sometimes. But we’ve learned how precious these trips are, how they breathe life into mundanity the way nothing else can.

Flex those precious few moments. Let us know how we can help.

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