Maybe we're just lacking in enthusiasm, but for us, every year New year's Eve just comes and goes without much event.
I only really even remember that we will be changing the digits on our calendar from the various Facebook posts about the New Year.
The thought of going to a party or, even worse, planning one, overwhelms me so much I get dizzy. Maybe a board game with the boys?
But I realized that our family does have one little tradition that I love.
We started making the Happy Jar sometime in 2013. I read about the idea online and loved it.
As we entered 2017, we read our little Happy Jar notes from the previous year and then started a brand new one. The Happy Jar makes me happy.
Made it back, T is fine. Seriously wanted to kiss the ground of the mainland when we arrived.
Of course we went from a balmy 25 degrees celsius to a freezing 5 degrees
but there was more sunshine and bluer skies in Morocco than we ever saw on Sal.
As a grand finale to our trip, T hit his head on the slide in the splash pool.
I didn't see it, because, for the split second that took, I was watching his brothers. When I looked up to see where he was, a man was carrying him out of the pool. It seems he had lost consciousness slightly.
This meant we needed to get his head scanned and there was a risk we could not make our flight.
Other than my worry about the medical care available (we visited the hospital but they did not have a CT scan machine there - or anywhere on the island), I'd really had enough of water shortages and hotel buggies carting drunk singing men back to their rooms after midnight.
Yesterday the hotel was out of towels and today there is no running water. We're thinking this might be to give us a taste of living on a desert island. The boys dipped in the pool to get the salt water off in the evening.
A desert island excursion is the perfect place to take my walking circus of a family.
In the bed of the 4x4 we took on our tour, they screamed, argued and fooled around. I sat back and relaxed, no one could hear or see them.
Maybe we need to move. Not necessarily to Sal, Cape Verde, just to a desert, all by ourselves.
Just a few hours into every vacation, the excitement quickly fizzles in the loud confines of a hotel room where you are trapped with three boys.
As they whined about exploring, complained about the food and demanded to go to the beach despite the fact that my fever had spiked, a sudden urgent call for a child free vacation went off in my head.
I was so excited to be able to tell the boys
"We're going to a desert island this vacation."
