The dreaded cruise, Part 1

180 days prior to sailing

We are going on a cruise to Mexico! We are going on a cruise!!!!! It's going to be great. My WHOLE family is coming along. We are going to be able to spend some time relaxing together without the hassles of everyday life getting in the way of our family togetherness. This vacation is going to be AWESOME, no doubt about it. Yes, we are taking the boys, I could NEVER be away from them for seven whole days. Plus, since my whole family is going to be there, Chad & I will have plenty of help.

I went to the travel agen today and put money down on our vacation of a lifetime. The travel agent seemed a little disgusted I waited "so long" to put down a deposit. She warned me in a disapproving tone accompanied with a most unattractive frown that I had committed a faux paus in cruising; one must put down a deposit approximately 10 years before saililng in order to have choices about anything, cabins, dining times, excursions, you name it. Since I had only dragged my big lazy butt in a measly 180 days in advace our choice of cabins was going to be quite scarce and she didn't know if we would be allowed to dine in the superb dining room at all. OH WELL, I think everything is going to be okay. Next time I will know to get my deposit in earlier.

1 Day prior to sailing

We got our cabin, we got our 9:30PM dining room assignment for dinner, we are on our way. Tomorrow is it. We are sitting in our hotel in LA awaiting ever so patiently for it to be tomorrow. I am a little annoyed because my hotel rate went up $75 despite my having booked this room 180 days in advance. It's okay, we are going on a cruise tomorrow and it's going to be great! My WHOLE family is going to be there to help with these wild boys. Said offspring are driving me crazy so far. So far I have not seen neither hide nor hair of my family despite the fact we are all staying in the same hotel, it's okay, I just know they'll be so excited to help with the boys once we are on board!

D Day- I mean Day to sail!

Why do I feel like I am getting ready for major surgery? No, I know what it is, I am just nervous. I hate new experiences and my anxiety always takes over. I know this is just going to be great. We have our set sail passes and checked in online weeks ago. We have our passports in hand and are totally ready to go. I have memorized the "before you set sail" guidelines on the cruise lines website and am indeed ready to set sail. As soon as the shuttle takes us to the ship it will be smooth sailing. My sister just called from the dock and said that she will meet us to help with the kids. My devil children are very grouchy and a little overtired, but I know they are going to have a grand and fabulous time. On board there is a kids center and I know these boys are going to love it and I will have to drag my little darlings away from the loving staff kicking and screaming.

HOLY COW! Is that the line?! There is a line of passengers that snakes around the ship yard for as far as the eye can see. Okay, well, it looks to be moving pretty quick--this should be alright. After an hour of very patiently waiting in line for customs and minimal whining from the boys we are at the head of the customs line and are good to go! We are given group numbers and instructions to wait patiently for our group number to be called from a very pleasant older lady with two sets of eyebrows, one her natural, and another set drawn in dramatically with a wavy brown pencil. I think we will be on board any minute now, I have heard rumors that they will be serving lunch, that's good, I am a little hungry. My stale sweet roll from the price gouging hotel is starting to wear off. Alright, we just need to pass the body cavity search from a not so friendly looking custom agent with only one set of eyebrows. Body cavity, check. Okay, now who's this? Yet another very friendly little lady in a cruise ship uniform directs us to an even longer line than was outside. But, I inquire ever so sweetie. We already have our boarding passes, pre boarding passes, and post boarding passes, why do we need to stand in THAT line? Can't we just take our yellow boarding pass to that short line that's getting ready to board the cruise ship? No, she says with a smile and a beautiful undistinguished accent, you need to check in first. She waves us with a well manicured hand to a line that is approximately 89 miles long. After standing in line for two plus hours one of my sons has collasped from hunger on the floor, he has resorted to dragging his backpack on the floor with is foot because he is too tired to stand. My other son is on my husbands shoulders declaring his legs have gone numb and he can no longer feel his feet. I am so tired and hungry I am considering eating our set sail pass and preboarding papers as it appears as though the damn papers were good for nothing at all and only an attempt to keep me busy on the days preceding the cruise. And where or where is my sister and all her help with the boys??

Oh, thank GOD, we are finally at the front of line! There is actually real people up there. Okay, we need to check in I guess, something I thought I already did online, thank you very much. Now we get to board, right? I have heard promises of food onboard, deck 9. We finally are on the ship after having our picture taken approximately 23 times and asked to smile, pose, stand a little closer, blah blah blah. My sons pictures were both taken while they were unconscious as they have both now passed out from hunger.

We approach the buffet line with is approximately as long as the line to check in onto this damn cruise. I give up. I collapse into a chair with my hundred carry on bags laying at my feet. I decide this is the worst possible vacaction ever. I feel as though I have been standing in line at Ellis Island. My husband lovingly says he'll go stand in line for us and fix a plate of food. The boys and I are sitting poolside. There is a band playing music at the approximate volume as a jetliner taking flight. My youngest son is screaming at me to tell that band to kill the music already. There are waiters scurrying by with drinks in hand that avoid my pleas for alcohol, any alcohol will be fine, just give me the whole damn bottle and charge me $100, I really don't care. Here comes Chad with a plate of food and the look of a man who has seen death & is still shell shocked. It's a mad house in there he tells me in a quivery voice-- "I won't go back, I can't go back, please don't make me". That's alright Daddy, the children declare, we'll just eat this. They proceed to dive into the plate of food with looks of hungry wolves who would eat their young if need be. I am so hungry I start to gnaw on one of the boys discarded chicken bones. Chad sucks hungrily on a piece of macaroni from a wayward piece of discarded macaroni salad that has slid of the boys plate. We see a little man cheerily put out a sign that the buffet is now closed, with hopes everybody enjoyed said buffet, and dinner is in two hours.

We arrive into our stateroom, a glorified closet with twin size bunk beds. We are so grateful to be in our cabin that we were not sure existed that we fail to notice that the toilet has rather lethargic flushing action. Dinner is very very soon I tell my still starving offspring, but first we need to attend a compulsory mustard meeting. After donning our ill fitting but ever so attractive orange life preserves we attend the meeting on Deck 5. The children should be issued appropriate life vests by our room steward we are told by a surly cruise staff member at the mustard meeting.

Alright, it has finally became the time for dinner at last. The dinner is perfect and elegant; expect for the fact that my low blood sugar induced children barely eat and are exhausted. They behave like all exhausted and hungry children do, like perfect little Devil spawn. The good news is that I have finally been served a drink and located my family. I accomplished the later because we are all seated at the same dinner table, despite the extended family's protests and pretending not to know me. I accomplished the former by waving my brand new room key to and fro until I caught our dear bar maids attention.

After being served a delicious dinner fit for a king and retiring to our barracks for sleep we are confident tomorrow will be a better day. Grandma has promised the children a swimming date and I have bingo on my mind. My husband has romance on his mind, but I am afraid with the single twin beds, which we asked to be made into a double and were repeatedly ignored, that romance just isn't in the cards for tonight!

Day 2-At Sea...Stay tuned for Part Duex!