Wednesday, September 8, 2010


Our hotel room has a balcony. That makes me feel so ritzy. The balcony fits one person comfortably. Which is fine- Ken has an innate fear of heights. We are on the top floor. Which makes this stay all the more exciting. I was always under the impression that the biggest, fanciest rooms in a hotel were on the top floor. This week I learned they have regular rooms on the top floor too. But I still get a zing asking someone to push "9" when I get into the elevator. They look at me and I smile and nod. That's right. Number 9. Top floor for me, toots! I apparently am not the only one with top-floor-hotel-illusions-of-grandeur.
Our room overlooks the pool. Yesterday a woman brought a newspaper out to poolside, laid down, and fell asleep within 5 minutes. Most likely because she chose to read the newspaper instead of some entertaining smutty magazine. I don't think she intended to fall asleep. When she woke up scorched three hours later she seemed pretty ruffled. And red. She was the pool's only visitor.
Until me and my sister and our babies suited up. Greta jumped right in-started splashing and kicking and laughing. Her mom had to keep a pretty tight grip on her. Kole wannied out and wanted to sleep instead. I had him in his stroller and we must have wheeled 20 laps around that pool. Still wide awake. I caved and nursed him to sleep. Poolside. Right where everyone else in their rooms watching people at the pool could see me. Yes, I'm that mom. It worked. I parked him and his stroller in the shade and had a lil' me time. With Jules. It felt fresh.

I could live here. Literally, here. At the hotel.


Karlenn said...

I miss you around these parts. Cool that you're staying at the top floor. See how much fun you and Julie are going to have when you live down there? It's nice to live in the same city as your sister.

Anonymous said...

Sounds like a fun trip to the pool. Where are the pictures though? LOL I bet it will be nice to live near your sister!