When a Mom is The Great Pumpkin world record holder

We interrupt our regularly-scheduled travelogues of our glorious trip to the San Juan Marriott in the Puerto Rico to bring you The Great Pumpkin updates.

For those new to this blog, my husband Jamie is O-B-S-E-S-S-E-D with growing The Great Pumpkin. Just the other night, I was reprimanded for running out of bleach. Now, if the dear man was waxing ambitious and helping with the laundry that would be one thing.

But the bleach is to help kill bacteria on The Great Pumpkin's vines.

Don't be shocked. I've become acclimated to compost tea, fish, seaweed and blood meal concoctions gurgling on my front porch.

And the latest measurements of the beast? Approximately 358 pounds with a 111" circumference and it is gaining approximately 25 pounds per day.

The sport of giant pumpkin-growing (yes, they consider it a sport) is dominated by men but last year, Ohioan Christy Harp came out of left field to clinch the world record with a pumpkin that weighed 1,725 pounds.


She is doing amazing things for women's libbers.

Soon thereafter, she announced she was pregnant and would not be defending her title. However, she has still continued to grow just for fun. Jamie sent me this little gem yesterday. Remember Anne Geddes' famous baby pictures?


This is a giant pumpkin-grower's version.


Pray for that child.

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Puerto Rico: Food, Moms and Fun (Did I Mention Food?)

I expected to have a great mother-daughter weekend at the San Juan Marriott Resort & Stellaris Casino with Hadley. I did not anticipate falling in love with Puerto Rico's culture, scenery and food.

Believe me, I have the extra pounds to prove that latter point.


(At least two of those pounds can be attributed to Puerto Rico's signature dish Mofongo, a mashed mound of plantains into which a combination of seafood, meat, or vegetables is added.)

The great thing about Puerto Rico (besides the food--did I mention the food?) is it feels like an exotic international adventure with all the conveniences of home that make traveling with kids a cinch.

As an unincorporated territory of the United States, Puerto Rico uses U.S. currency, locals speak English and Spanish, there are no roaming charges for most cell phone providers and Americans don’t need a passport.

They're pretty swell to Canucks, too.

Puerto Rico is also resplendent with local culture. Latin music fills Old San Juan’s cobblestone streets, culinary delights ooze with flavor and the white-sand beaches host families and sun worshipers from all over the world.

Rio Camuy Cave Park

Puerto Rico's rainy season is in October, May and evidently whenever I visit because it was downpouring when we arrived.

The excursion I most looked forward to was a trip to Rio Camuy Cave Park. This is the only place in the world you will find an extensive cave system with a tropical underground river thundering through it. With three crater-like sink holes, two caves and a trolley that descends into a sinkhole, this is a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

Or in my case, an ain't-gonna-happen one.

Much to my dismay, the caves had to be closed due to copious amounts of rain.

Museo de la Bilia's Indoor Playground

Kara (the publicist who arranged the trip) scrambled to switch our itinerary and arranged a visit to Museo de la Biblia. As one whose Spanish proficiency is limited to Dora the Explorer tutorials, I thought this was some kind of Biblical museum. I could not have been more wrong.

Though there was a whole lot of kid-worship going on.

My fellow travel bloggers (Corinne of Have Baby Will Travel, Debbie of Delicious Baby and Colleen of Travel Mamas) and I trailed our little ones as they euphorically tackled the aquarium, dinosaur exhibit, miniature golf, small amusement rides, video games and and lunched at the affordable pizza parlor. There was even an ice-skating rink in the tropics. The price was reasonable, too: $20 for an all-inclusive pass.

While I certainly would not consider the Museo de la Bilia a destination unto itself, it was a fantastic rainy-day activity.

Unless you walk outside and discover it had been sunny the entire time you were indoors and it then proceeds to rain when you were scheduled to go to the beach that afternoon.

Evidently, Puerto Rico's weather did not take our itinerary into consideration.

Stay tuned for details of the San Juan Marriott's glorious pool and why a rainy day at the beach is better than, well, pretty much anything. Be sure to also read my first post, Almost reaching perfection at the San Juan Marriott Resort.

Note: I participated in a travel blogger press trip sponsored by the San Juan Marriott. The views are entirely my own and I was not compensated in any way.

Little Kickers, Big Parent Dreams: The Art of Surviving Summer Camp

I am a soccer mom.

Or at least I really want to be. After a failed attempt at introducing my daughter Hadley to soccer a couple of years ago, the dream was dead. I vowed I would only enroll her again if she asked.

That blessed day came a couple of months ago. Within an hour of her proclamation, I had her enrolled in a clinic to hone her skills, was counting down the days until I could register her on a team in the fall and had already plotted out her college team.

Evidently, I don’t do “casual” well.

The Little Kickers clinic consisted of an adorable yet eclectic crew of 4-6-yr-olds. Some wanted to be there, others looked around like they’d landed on another planet and a few deserters simply hit the playground. Coach Robin instituted some rules including “No carrying the ball and no sitting down in soccer.”

Talk about a hard-core boot camp.

The coach was overwhelmed by all the kids so I offered to help, which allowed 3-year-old Bode to join in the action. For seven classes, they did fun drills, learned to dribble and bonded during rain storms.

Well, most of them. The playground deserters and alien planet kids had long since dropped out.

The final day was the ultimate showdown: kids vs. parents. There were about nine kids vs. six grown-ups. One of the dads even showed up decked out in his cleats.

I didn’t have the heart to break it to him that we were playing a bunch of preschoolers.

It was the kids’ first READ ON