The Cruise

We just got back from a 4-day cruise (with me being unemployed, vacations are much easier to schedule!), and boy was that an experience. Neither Jeff nor I had been on a cruise before, but people assured us it was a fine thing to do with a toddler. Unfortunately, Mia behaved quite badly. Sometime between the time we booked the cruise and our actual departure date, Miss Mia entered the "terrible two" stage with a vengeance. I felt bad for the people who lived in the staterooms on either side of us. Fortunately, I came face-to-face with them only once. (Not the warmest greeting I've ever received.)
I don't blame the poor girl for being bored. Soon after we boarded the ship, we discovered there was no kiddie pool, and swim diapers were not permitted in the main pools. (Oops, I guess they forgot to mention that. ) We'd been told there was a children's play area, but we discovered only 1 hour per day was set aside for "toddler time." (Oops again.) Jeff took Mia there every day to give me some downtime, and on one occasion she was expelled by the staff (very tactfully, Jeff assures me) because she wouldn't sit down and engage in the activity - she preferred running around the room. (I wasn't there, but I can picture her running helter-skelter, arms flailing, giggling hysterically with her best "I bet you can't catch me" devilish smile.)

And then there was the lifeboat drill. A long, drawn out affair where we were required to put on the most bulky orange life vests I've ever seen, then walk to the casino where we had to wait and wait in a hot stuffy room full of flashing lights with a similarly orange-clad mob for an eternity until we were instructed to walk down to the lifeboat area to stand for another eternity while someone explained the evacuation procedures over a loudspeaker whose sound quality rivaled a drive-through window. This all happened at about 4 in the afternoon, and Mia had been up since 5:30 a.m. to catch the flight to Miami. She hadn't eaten her lunch or napped. (The phrase "recipe for disaster" comes to mind, doesn't it?) About 5 minutes into the drill, Mia had the meltdown to end all meltdowns. We've never seen anything like it. We tried everything we could think of to calm her down, including taking off her life vest, then ours, so we could hold her in our arms. I spent much of the time sitting on the deck with Mia, cuddling her and trying to reassure her, to no avail. The people around us kindly tried to pretend nothing unusual was happening. (Except for one couple in their 20's, who kept looking at us incredulously. If they were on their honeymoon, I suspect they might be thinking twice about starting a family.) If that wasn't the longest half hour of my life, I don't know what was.

Despite its challenges, it was a nice getaway. In Cozumel, Mia went in the ocean for the first time. Mia delighted in seeing dolphins swimming in the ship's wake, right below our stateroom balcony. I purchased a stuffed dolphin for her at the airport, and she enjoys making it swim through the air. Jeff reports that she walked right up to an intimidating-looking man at the airport to show him her new dolphin. Though he was the kind of guy most of us would avoid, he was very friendly, asking Mia what the dolphin's name was. Mia surprised Jeff by announcing, "Alex." It was surprising because up to this point, Mia has referred to her dolls as "Baby Doll" and "Big Baby" and her stuffed animals as "Lambie" and "Blue Bear" and "Brown Bear." This is the first time she has given one of her toys a human name. (Alex happens to be the name of the boy on the Signing Time videos, and we've suspected she had a crush on him.) We had lots of play time together in our stateroom and out on our balcony. I read the story of "The Napping House" so many times I now have it memorized. We also taught Mia to respond to the questions, "What is your name?" and "How old are you?" Somehow we hadn't got around to that before, and a TSA agent had given us a hard time when we were going through security in Atlanta.

TSA (looking at Mia's passport): Does she speak?

Me (puzzled): Do you mean, does she speak English?

TSA: Does she speak?

Me: Yes, she can talk.

TSA (to Mia): What is your name?

Mia: Silence.

TSA: What is your name?

Mia: silence.

TSA: I thought you said she spoke.

Me: She DOES.

TSA: Then why can't she tell me her name?

Me: She doesn't know how to answer that question. (I prepare to pull out the family photos that show the 3 of us together, assuming TSA's concern is that I might be kidnapping.)

TSA (grudgingly): OK, you can go.

I have to admit I still don't understand why he had to ask. Was her passport photo really that bad? Anyway, Mia can now say her first and last name, though I doubt she'd give it up willingly for a TSA agent.