Hawaii with a Baby is Different From Honeymoon Hawaii

If anything was a marker for how things have changed for our family, it was a trip to Hawaii (for a similar theme, see last post about Big Bear). The last time we'd gone, it was to Maui for our honeymoon. M and I snorkeled, ziplined, went horseback riding, relaxed in hot tubs, and went out to restaurants every night. We had no one to look out for but ourselves, and our lives stretched out in front of us unmarked by worry or care.

This time, our friends Jenn and John, brave souls that they were, joined us and our new addition. This was going to be a trip to Oahu, the North Shore, and it was very clear to me that the week would be largely separated into two categories: surf for M and John, and eating for Jenn and me. And that is pretty much what happened. M and John met up with John's friends and experienced scary waves amid even scarier reefs...and Jenn and I ate our weight in poke, spam masubi, and shaved ice while talking about everything under the sun. We also kept a finger ready to dial 911 while we looked for our men from the safety of the beach.

I was also happy to see John and Jenn maximize their child-free time by getting up to see the sunrise, snorkeling at whim, going bike riding, and enjoying sunsets, while M and I...did not do that stuff. We did couple up at appropriate times, such as for Valentine's Day and for M's and my anniversary, so things worked out for everyone.

Oh! And we also had a baby with us, one with whom I inadvertently practiced attachment parenting. Baby C screamed bloody murder the first night I attempted to put him in the Pack 'N Play crib, so we co-slept with him all week to ensure our friends were able to sleep. We left the stroller at home in lieu of surfboards, so Baby C was Ergo'ed up everywhere we went, and slept peacefully in my lap at restaurants. We got about as much cooperation as we could expect from a teething 7.5-month-old. He kept his crying to only a couple car rides alone with M and me, luckily, and saved his one giant diaper blowout for an outing at Hanauma Bay toward the end of the trip.

The view from our AirBnB. The landlord's name was Love, because of course it was.

Unsuspecting travel nanny #1

Unsuspecting travel nanny #2

The giant, messy waves that Jenn and I gazed upon with fear as we searched for our men, who were usually in a completely different spot than we thought to look.

Jenn and I, supporting the local economy, one spam masubi purchase at a time.

A post-surf, pre-shaved ice lunch break with poke bowls from the deli at Foodland, our gourmet culinary choice on most days.

My first public postpartum pic in a bikini. I am so brave.

On Sunday, we went to Harbor Church North Shore with John's friends Dustin and Britt. I should mention here that they are a husband and wife team who are both hardcore surfers with giant hearts and no fear. It was humbling to be welcomed so warmly into their local community.

That sheen on my forehead would be the sweat from carrying a giant baby all week and keeping him from swiping my shaved ice.

As you can see, Baby C could not be more excited about being in Hawaii.

In hindsight, everything went fairly smoothly, but it is just...different (less liberating? like being sandbagged?) to vacation with a baby. Every activity was weighted in my mind by factors such as convenience and accessibility, whether it was during naptime, and whether I would be able to nurse or change Baby C's diaper. Jenn at some point mentioned the possibility of a helicopter ride over the island, and my first thought was, "I don't think we've taken out enough life insurance."

I will say this, though: on our honeymoon, M and I uttered lovey dovey words and gazed into each other's eyes with adoration. But I don't think I really understood adoration until I watched M lug a heavy (and largely useless) Pack 'n Play through the giant Honolulu airport. Or until I observed him gently cradle his son in one arm as he gazed out at Pipe, the break he'd been dying to see for the last decade. Or until he held down Baby C's hands so I could change his blown out diaper at the beach without fear of our son contracting Hand Foot Mouth disease. And then calmly watched as said son peed all over his beach towel.

At Hanauma Bay, I tried lowering Baby C into the water, and he started whimpering in fear. When M heard about it, he took his son back out to the water himself and tried to gently introduce positive associations with the water. I don't know if it worked or not, but I figure we have the rest of his life to make him do things he doesn't want to do. Ha! #tigermom

Come to think of it, he didn't super love his first experience with sand either. We may have to accept his future as an indoor mathlete.

Hawaii? Eh. Waves, sun and sand? Eh. Teething rings? Best things ever!!!!!!

All in all, it was a good trip. And the best part? When the passenger in front of me on the plane ride home turned around and said, "You have a really good baby." Mahalo!

And then our really good baby cried in the car all the way home from the airport. 

P.S. Thank you to our friend Deron for the ride to and from the airport. In return, we will make you unsuspecting travel nanny #3 for the next trip.