Travel log: We have traveled 5378 nautical miles since San Diego

Lincoln- “Mommo, I really think I might be starting to like Tate.”  Umm…..wow.  “We like Tate as well,” we whispered close to his browned face…..we know to approach…quietly.  We do not want to spook the youngest.  Our perceptive observer.   The one who speaks only when he has something to say.  (Such a different approach for so many of us.  Speak only when you have clearly thought about what might slip out.) We quietly whisper to him, just like we are sharing a secret with him.  This is between him and us.  “We knew you could have fun with him. He is a really fun, intelligent and kind person.”  Could this family togetherness be creating a new appreciation for one another?  A new reliance upon one another?  Or does it mean it will become us against them.  Parents vs offspring.  Will they laugh at our crazy ideas, poking fun at our attempts…..I guess, one can only hope so.  Siblings need each other for this very reason.

Last night Scott and I went “out”.  (Ha!  We went to the staff/faculty lounge. A short walk one floor below- Deck 7.  Hmmm….these “places” being numbered only just started to make me nervous.  Like those cities in The Hunger Games.  Numbered destinations. Something to think about while we are being tossed about by our 8-9 meter swells today (barf).)   Well, I do take comfort in the fact that this deck 7 lounge is a numbered destination where no students are allowed.  A place to visit with other professors and adults.  It feels like a larger world experience to suggest we went out.  Let me have this.  A date night on the town! Out. Out.  Out.  Deck 7.  Another world. Upon our return to the 8th deck, our cabin, we found the two boys were playing a card game.  Tate was teaching Lincoln how to play a card game.  There is hope.  They are becoming teammates.

Of course, between the hours of 08:00 and 09:00 (ship uses a 24-hour clock which only confuses everyone but the crew.  For those of you who are not on board, a 0 in front of the time means AM), there is a manic wrestling match every single morning in our tiny cabin.  This WWF wrestling match will end in tears or head injuries. Just like your parents used to warn you.  They used their sing-songy voices,”……This never ends well.  Fa la la la la la la!”   It seems when the true intent of your activity is to injure someone, you generally do just that.  Bam.   Big ideas coming at you.

This morning it ended in Tate screaming that Lincoln smelled like urine.  Linc became enraged and punched the back of Tate’s head.   I instantly sprang into action and threw Linc in the bath. I mentioned that it could be my fault as I did not remember the last time he had been in water.  May have been near Hawaii exactly 7 days ago.  (Or, maybe it was 6.  We crossed the international date line on Sunday and woke up on a Tuesday. I am not sure how to count that.  I am feeling nervous that it was another attempt by our leaders attempt to control our minds.  The Capital.  The rulers. They control time.  Tell us to set our clocks back and we will.  Lemurs.  Ready to jump when told. They flash the new time on the tv.  We run to our stations and change time. )

Scott and I have been too busy “going out” to worry about the children and their bathing behaviors.   We have a new community to acclimate to.  I will find a good spot to settle into.  Meet new friends.  Spend time.  Left to their own devices we have now confirmed that the children are perfectly happy sitting in their own filth.  What child would be motivated to clean themselves?  Not ours.

The day prior to this urine filled wrestling match, I returned from breakfast.  (I really like to be sure I eat this meal without my family, attending breakfast on the late end so that I might shower without the entire family needing to come through the bathroom for random needs or just wanting to chat with me.) The boys go to breakfast with Scott the minute the dining hall opens.  We have settled into all sorts of arbitrary new “rules”.  This just seems most comfortable to make up new routines and follow them.  Then Scott locates a public rest room for his morning crossword club (there may be others who meet, this is not clear to me) and the boys return to the cabin to hang out until classes start.

The minute their keys hit the lock, I sail past them and head quickly to the dining room.  I dine with civil women and men, who like to pleasantly visit about the weather and how everyone slept.  We chat about the newest trend or fad.  “Anyone thinking about a new Semester at Sea sweatshirt?  Or, I saw that the wellness center got a new hair color in!  Girl on fire nail polish! I saw it on a student.  Glittery stuff.  Looks amazing in the light of the main meeting hall.”   Or, we talk about the suspected mind control that the leaders of this voyage have.  In the absence of clear ranks, the public will make up an US vs Them type of hierarchy.  Even when we are all in the same boat.  The Capital vs our numbered deck.  Uh oh.  We seem to have woken up in the middle of the games.  They just turned on the sideways rain.  Too real.   The Gamemakers are amongst us, now.

Many of these breakfast companions are also cabin refugees who are escaping their children!  Upon my return from breakfast, which can take 30 minutes when I chew slowly, I am generally greeted with a cabin that has been rearranged.  This morning they decided to play smash a kid.  We have 2 mattresses (see photo) that remain upright during the day so we may walk through the cabin to the bathroom.  At night, we pull them out to occupy every inch of floor space we have. Who knew that leaning mattresses work wonderfully for a boy smashing station!   American Ninja warrior obstacles can be made out of anything.   One of the boys gets between them.  The other launches themselves from the bed and attempts to do the smashing.  So far, Linc has sustained a bloody lip from hitting the window, and a slight head injury from hitting the faux fire place.  They need their time together. It really is like an orchestrated production.  Play, wrestle, injure……and repeat.  Over and over, every day at sea.

Another night we went “out”.  (Again, to the staff/faculty lounge.  I have founded a club called “a drink a night.”  It is a heavily attended social club and membership is a piece of cake.  You show up and order a drink.  No need to read books, or pretend to prepare a meal. You just show up and ask the server for your drink of choice.  This is the best club I have ever founded.)  I attend every single night, no matter what academic endeavors that the Semester at Sea wizards place onto the calendar.  I will not be stopped. This is my meeting, with the adults, and an adult beverage.  I invite Scott, but he is sometimes more inspired to spend quiet time in our cabin, or do some sort of scholarly betterment of his mind.  He disappears in his newly acquired Hawaiian shirt that he found at the ABC drugstore…..it was a travel inspired purchase.  We all know about those.  Suddenly we can be seen sporting new items from new lands.  I am personally very excited to see what type of Japanese fashion I will adopt in the next few days.  Hello Kitty was never my favorite…..but….when in Rome…..and after 12 days at sea….I will be adorned head to toe with whatever the newest character might be!

As the gym (and decks) are floating along with us, there really is no excuse.  You work out every day.  Or, at least Scott and I do.  As we keep changing time zones, we are up early.  No excuse.  Last night we went to bed on a Sunday night, only to wake up on a Tuesday morning.  Time really is just something we play along with. It is all subject to change based on the whims of the magical tv program or…..our leaders…. The Capital makes these decisions for.  The Hunger Games.  We are the sheep they needed to play out their big ideas and control.  They are our brains.

It does make me very happy to see how many students are committed to some sort of work out.  Or they like to parade in their cute tight pants.  They march by on their way to “deck yoga”, or strength training, or to the gym.  I never anticipated so many working out all over the ship.  And, they have the most amazing Lululemon outfits!  Even the guys are sporting these super high-end items.  Those boys just look absolutely adorable in their gym get ups that their parents must have purchased.  Matchy-matchy.  Cute young men.

Sleep tight. Take great comfort that YOUR clock does what you expect it to.  Appreciate the lack of manipulation. Monday follows Tuesday.  Ours is under the control of the Gamemakers.   3 more days at sea.  Look out Japan.  We are coming.  Only 24 hours and we will set foot upon your shore.