Preschooler observations and negotiations

Chris has noted a few times that he loves negotiating with Kaia. Kaia will rarely accept one option; she needs to have multiple to choose from at all times. So sometimes, we have to throw in some “options” for fun.

Some recent examples include:

Kaia asked Chris for an iPad. He told her no, when you’re bigger, you can get one. I can’t remember the exact age, but he said something like, “When you’re 18, you can have one.” And she responded back and said, “No, no no! I will get one when I am 31,” to which Chris was super positive about! And then she told me later, “Daddy can buy me an iPad when I’m 31!” And I looked at her and said, “Yes, babe! That will definitely be possible!”

And onto another topic: I have a pretty quick makeup routine on days I wear makeup. During our Honduras trip, she always liked to watch me put in my daily contacts (which I wore for three days) and then my makeup. She asked me at what age she could also wear contacts, and I responded and said in an ideal world, I hope she never, ever had to wear contacts. She didn’t quite understand this, so I relented and said she could wear them at 18 if she needed to. She seemed okay with this.

Then she asked, “Mama, can I wear makeup when I am 19?” I looked down at her and smiled. “Of course you can, Pookie! Nineteen would be perfect!!”

Kaia has also been very loving and caring, checking in with me daily on my “boo boos” from when I scratched my thigh and butt from the coral reef in Roatan. So she’s been asking to see them every day and also asks if she can help me put ointment or ice on them. I tell her that I put the ointment on myself each morning and evening, but she also insists on applying her bedtime ice pack (this is her thing) to my boo boos for a few seconds to “help” me heal. It’s very sweet, so even though I don’t need it, I humor her and let her do it. And then after she takes the ice pack away, she asks me while peering up with big, wide eyes, “Does it feel better now?” To which I always respond, “Yes, Pookie, it does. Thank you for helping mama!”

A lot is tough about this age and every age of child-rearing, but I do love these cute, sweet moments so much.

“Camp” setup at our San Pedro Sula hotel

Once Kaia had outgrown a crib and pack-n-play, when traveling, we’d ask the hotels for a roll-away bed for her. All hotels accommodate this, of course, but occasionally, you get a special surprise at some properties.

We stayed at an Aloft hotel in San Pedro Sula. Aloft is known for their Camp Aloft, which encourages kids ages 2-12 to have fun by providing them with their own unique Aloft experience. They call it a “bed in a bag with special treats!” The last time Kaia had something close to a tent experience was when we had the Lovevery “fort” setup, but she quickly outgrew that because that was more for babies and younger toddlers. She’s also hidden in the tent at Chris’s aunt and uncle’s place in Melbourne, which she loved. So when we arrived at our hotel room on Saturday late afternoon, she squealed with delight when she saw her little tent bed. After taking off her shoes, she immediately ran over to the bed to hide in her tent. She was obsessed with the little windows where you could play peekaboo. I love that she still loves peekaboo… and I still wonder how long this peekaboo love will last?!

The hotel manager also tried to spoil her by giving her a full-sized bag of M&Ms and a bag of Skittles… which Chris immediately confiscated. I think by the end of the trip, he may have let her have two M&Ms and two Skittles max. I love these experiences that Kaia gets when traveling, and I love seeing people treat children well. I hope she can remember at least some of these experiences when she’s older, as at the age of 4, this is the earliest time of my life that I have very vivid memories of. And even when she isn’t able to remember, we will have lots of photos and videos to document and share with her so she can relish in the fact that she was so spoiled in these travel moments.

A day spent exploring the surrounds of San Pedro Sula, Honduras

If you look at places to see and what to do in San Pedro Sula, you can tell almost right away that it was never a place built with tourism in mind. There’s virtually zero tourism infrastructure. People obviously live there. Many businesses are located and/or headquartered here, so people come for business travel. But when it comes to sightseeing, most of that is found outside of San Pedro Sula, at least an hour outside the city, where you forget “urban” even exists because of how green, jungle-like, and rugged the area outside of it is.

We didn’t want to rent a car or drive in mainland Honduras, so Chris tried for a while to find a driver who could take us on a day trip, but it was challenging. Some of the drivers he found and reached out to didn’t seem legitimate. Others were quoting such astronomically high costs that they would even be absurd if we got quoted those numbers back home in the U.S. Finally, and unexpectedly, we were able to enlist the hotel manager’s help ahead of time in finding us a safe, legitimate driver who charged a reasonable amount to be our driver for the day outside the city. We were warned he didn’t speak any English, but this was fine because we’d give him our desired itinerary ahead of time. And of course, there was always Google Translate (what a savior!).

We visited a number of interesting places today that made us forget about the city completely. Our first stop was at D&D Brewery and Restaurant in the Pena Blanca area. It’s this little brewery/restaurant/inn that you’d totally overlook when driving passed it because it’s so tucked away. It’s physically inside a rainforest close to Lago de Yojoa (Lake Yojoa). Given they are a craft brewery (that uses mountain spring water), we got a pineapple and raspberry beer along with a slice of very light and fluffy chocolate cake to appease Kaia. We also walked around the property, which really did feel like we were right in the center of a jungle. It was a really beautiful spot with friendly service despite the language barrier.

Our next stop was at Los Naranjos Eco-Archaeological Park, which contains pre-Columbian ruins of a major Lenca city dating back to 800 B.C. That is even older than Copan, the famous Maya ruins also in Honduras that is likely better known. Copan dates back to 400 A.D. There, we got to walk along a long wooden boardwalk that curved through these huge wetlands at the edge of Lake Yojoa. I loved all the unique bird songs we got to hear while walking through it — how beautiful it would be to be able to fall asleep to those nature sounds at night! I also appreciated how relatively covered we felt by the endless large trees from the UV rays (I am officially in my forties now, after all…).

Just past midday, we went down to Lake Yojoa and took a calm, relaxing boat tour of the lake and surrounds. This time, our driver Javier came with us, and he occasionally pointed out interesting things to us, like the famous Goblin’s Cave and the turtle shaped island in the middle of the lake. While on the boat, I was reminded of this time last year when we were in Lake Atitlan, Guatemala, for a day trip. And the mountains in the distance here and the faint mist over them reminded me of that time. There are so many beautiful bodies of water in the world to see and explore!

We passed so many street side fruit vendors that I had to take advantage of this. So I asked Javier if he could stop by one so I could check out some fruit. I ended up getting a local mango and my very first cacao fruit — all for 70 Lempiras; more on this tomorrow!

A typical lunch by the lake will include fried fish, fried fish, and fried fish, all caught from the lake, with a side of freshly fried plantains in the same oil. Chris managed to find us a teeny tiny little quaint spot overlooking the water called Comedor Mayra, where a very nice lady was able to communicate with us and get our order in. I asked if she had juice, and though she didn’t have any, she was eager to get it from a nearby fresh juice vendor once we told her what we’d be interested in. We ended up having a hibiscus and mango juice. The fish was delicious, as were the tostones and the juices. And I’m still in shock from how cheap the meal was: an entire whole fried fish with tostones with all the cabbage and pickled vegetable fixings, plus two large fresh juices for just 250 Lempiras — that’s not even $10 USD!

Our last stop for the day was at Cataratas Pulhapanzak (Pulhapanzak Falls), meaning “white river overflow in Mayan. “Pulha” as it is known is 43 meters/140-feet tall, located on Rio Lindo about an hour’s drive outside of San Pedro Sula. The area served as a pre-Hispanic center, likely overlapping with the Mayan civilization. Before the Spanish arrived here, the falls were deeply revered as a sacred, mystical site by the indigenous Lenca people. Now, it’s fully set up for tourism, with the option to do cave walks, behind-the-water splash adventures, river tubing, and even multi-course ziplining. There is a big “Pulha” sign for photos with the large waterfall in the background, complete with a large platform to which you can walk up to get the perfect photo opp. It felt like mostly locals and maybe domestic tourists when we went. A lot were getting into the water and swimming in calmer, shallower areas. The whole area felt like a big family-friendly outdoor hangout, and a very natural one at that! I do not recall seeing a single obviously foreign tourist there other than ourselves. The falls were beautiful, and the mist went much farther than it appears it would. We had a feeling that we probably came on a lower flow day because the actual fall itself was relatively small.

We packed a lot into today, with the day planning done by Chris and Claude/Gemini, and some occasional help and friendly pointers from our driver Javier. We ended the day with yesterday’s Power Chicken leftovers (a very popular fast food spot with HUGE portions all over Honduras that should be visited if you ever come!) and a good night’s sleep. And luckily by midday today, my right butt cheek stopped hurting and burning, so I hope I’m on the short road to recovery from these coral reef scrapes.

Coral reef scrapes, the painful burn, and the 4-year-old who wants to ice mama’s butt

Given that I am a city person through and through, I guess it’s no wonder that I’ve always had a fear of deep water, especially the ocean water. I’m a human being living on the land; by definition, the ocean is a foreign place to me because I cannot live in the ocean. And for all you people out there who love swimming in the ocean and think you are really a mermaid, reality check: you are not! So on the three previous times I’d been snorkeling and saw very, very deep water and can tell the ocean floor is extremely far below me, I occasionally have this tiny wave of panic come over me and just hope to some higher power that my leg doesn’t cramp up or my life vest does not suddenly fail. So then I take a deep breath and keep swimming.

This morning was our last morning in Roatan and our last chance to be at the beach before taking a plane to San Pedro Sula, where we’ll be until midday Monday. No one is going to complain about a last beach outing, and I wanted to seize the moment and go snorkeling one last time. So we went to the beach for a couple hours before packing up and heading to the airport. Chris did not share the desire to go snorkeling again, so when I went out, it was just me while he stayed ashore with Kaia.

This didn’t really bother me that he didn’t want to go out again. The water is pretty calm and virtually waveless. It’s really the perfect place to go snorkeling without supervision or help. So I went out on my own. For a long time, it felt really nice. I saw a lot of the same fish as yesterday, and this time, I saw even more schools of different fish varieties. But then suddenly out of nowhere, I got hit by a wave that I didn’t anticipate, and I got pushed into a really shallow (and seemingly dead) stretch of coral. Then, I got pushed into a sitting position — on top of the dead coral. This was a really shallow area — the water was barely even two feet deep here. I kept looking around to see where I could swim to escape the coral — it almost looked endless no matter which way I looked. How the hell was I supposed to get off this thing?! I eventually got out of the area and into open water, but I could tell that I had more than just a few nicks and scrapes. Something on my right butt cheek was burning, and it was definitely from stupidly sitting on the coral. I mean, it wasn’t like I meant to do that, but it just kind of happened…

This is why the ocean can be dangerous: you have no idea what is lurking out there that does not want you in its space. And they will do things to you to harm you if you are in the wrong place at the wrong time. I swam quickly back to shore, where Kaia immediately noticed scrapes bleeding on my right leg and asked me about my “boo boo.” I went to the restroom to properly clean my scrapes and examine my wounds. The scrapes were fine — they looked like any other scrape. But the wounds that were on my right butt cheek were another story: they were bright red, puffing, pulsing, and burning. And this feeling was not reducing in the least bit even after I washed the area and tried to pour clean, cold water on it. After a shower, the pulsing pain and burning persisted. So en route to the airport, I told Chris we needed to stop by a pharmacy to see if I could get an ointment for this. I explained to a pharmacist what happened, and she gave me a hydrocortisone cream to apply on my scrapes. When we eventually got to our hotel in San Pedro Sula, the hotel manager was really kind and made me an ice bag, and I applied that to my butt for a bit in our room before we went out for dinner.

Kaia insisted on helping me ice my butt: “Mama, I wanna ice your butt!” She shrieked multiple times. So I let her push the ice bag against my butt while I lay on the bed. She’s always looking for ways to be helpful, and I know she has a very strong, caring, nurturing side to her (I’ve lost count of the number of times she checks in with me on random “boo boos” she finds on my body, when she asks if something hurts, and when she cares for all the dolls at school when it’s activity center time). I find it really sweet and endearing, and hope she continues to be caring and attuned to others’ feelings.

After dinner out at Power Chicken (a local fast food chain favorite with huge portions!), we showered and slept. But I still couldn’t sleep. The pulsing pain and burning was not improving. And now when I scratched it, there was a very deep pain that would result from that. The ice bag was not a proper ice pack, so I couldn’t sleep with it without wetting the bed eventually. So after 1.5 hours of burning and pulsating, I finally came up with the idea of taking the cold plastic water bottles in our fridge and using them as a pseudo ice pack setup. The fridge was cold enough, so I was finally able to fall asleep.

And… I tried falling asleep hoping this wasn’t some insane outlier coral reef scrape infection that would end in sepsis and potentially kill me.

Seeing fish swim around us and snorkeling at West Bay Beach, Roatan

I occasionally get asked what I love most about motherhood/parenthood. And I will say that there are a lot of things I love about it very much (also a decent number of things I cannot stand, like dealing with temper tantrums and negotiating with a tiny person), but if I had to say just one thing, I would say that I absolutely love watching her experience new things for the first time and what her reaction is. It also helps keep me more in the moment because she completely and totally lives for the moment. Whether it was the first time she had something sweet and the look of pure surprise and joy on her face, to the giggle-induced glee she got when she first stomped in puddles, I just love seeing all of her firsts and her reactions. I love watching her delight in discovering more and more about life — at least, the beauty of life. The hard and ugly stuff… well, we’ll inevitably eventually get there, won’t we?

We spent the morning at the beach just steps from the hotel, and I will say, with certainty, that this is likely my favorite beach of all time. I thought this was the case with the beaches in Boracay, but this tops that experience because here, I can actually swim not too far out from the beach and already see the Mesoamerican Barrier Reef! Where else can you go and be just a short swim away from the shore to see the barrier reef and endless colorful fishes of different shapes and sizes?!

When we stepped into the water together, Kaia immediately noticed that little fishies were swimming in the water with us. And she giggled and shrieked with so much delight that I could feel like my heart was overflowing. My little baby was so happy to see all these fishies swimming around her. And it made me so happy to see that she was happy and enjoying herself; it was a reminder of mudita, joy for someone else’s joy, once again. And then I felt this internal dilemma because I didn’t have my phone with me and wanted to capture the moment. But I still wanted to be in the moment. What to do?! So I let her splash and stare and ooh and ahh and giggle over the sergeant major fish and other silver fish swim around her and watched her revel in her joy. But after about ten minutes, I knew that the joy was going to eventually subside, as this would be her “new normal” at this beach, so I rushed to grab my phone and came back to capture just seconds of her fish-induced giggling. I could’ve listened to her giggling over the fishies swimming around her all day; I may even have that video on loop, just the audio, when we go back home.

Before this trip, I’d only ever been snorkeling two times: the very first time was in December 2014 in Cairns in the Great Barrier Reef, where we were on a boat to go out far enough to snorkel. The second time was just this last January in Cebu where we also had to go out on a island-hopping-tour boat, and we got to see the coral and endless beautiful fish in the Philippines. In Cairns, I had a “proper” snorkeling experience because all my snorkeling gear worked as intended. In the Philippines, the gear was jenky and I had to constantly adjust it because water kept flooding into my goggles. Here given we rented our gear from the hotel, everything was in perfect condition, so I didn’t have to worry about malfunctioning issues. This third time would be the first time we did snorkeling independent of a tour or boat. I love snorkeling; it’s likely one of the most fun and calming experiences ever. I’m obsessed with all the different colors that are out there in the ocean. It is a little intimidating for me because I never fully “graduated” from swimming classes and am not a strong swimmer, but thank goodness for life vests and good snorkeling equipment! The coral, fish, and water are all worth it! Unfortunately, most of the coral right off the shore is dead. And weirdly enough, some parts are so shallow (not even two feet?) and then it immediately gets really, really deep). But despite all of that, I lost count of the number of exotic, florescent fish we saw. Like in the Philippines, we saw different varieties of the florescent, rainbow colored parrotfish (stoplight parrotfish, princess parrotfish, and queen parrotfish), the sergeant majors at the shore and beyond, endless silver hued fish of different shapes and sizes, blue chromis, fairy basslets (these were so fun; bright florescent blue-purple on the front of their little bodies and florescent bright yellow on the back!), Spanish hogfish, and at least a dozen different types of angelfish and butterfly fish. I always got really, really excited whenever a school of fish would pass by. There were multiple schools of florescent dark blue and black angel-like fish swimming by me like I was just part of the furniture! I also saw a very interesting coral that was bright red and pink, and shaped like a perfect sofa cushion… and made sure to stay far away as possible from it to avoid any coral stings.

Another interesting thing happened today at the beach: Chris decided to get into sand castle making with us. He’s never done this before and has always left Kaia and me to this activity ourselves. Sand castle making, alongside searching for interesting seashells (unfortunately, there were ZERO shells on this beach), are also part of my favorite beach activities. With the borrowed shovels and buckets from the activity center, Chris was taking this job very, very seriously. He not only ensured that the castle had a moat (I always say that if there’s no moat, then it’s not a real sand castle!), but he created two watch towers and a river that ran into the moat from the shallow waves. Kaia relished Chris building the castle and eventually just delegated most of the work to her dad… classic princess behavior. I posted a video of Chris and Kaia building the castle on my private Instagram Stories, to which one of his cousins semi accurately responded, “I’ve never seen Chris do so much manual labor in my life!” I told him she said this, to which he replied, “I define manual labor.”

Kaia is always glee-filled at the beach. Ever since she was a baby, she has loved the beach. There is nothing else my Pookie loves more than warm weather, clear water (and calm waves), and sand literally everywhere. And adding all the fish swimming around her was likely the cherry on top for her morning.

Sloths, extremely premium coffee, and lunch in a mangrove

We started our first full day in Roatan at Daniel Johnson’s Monkey and Sloth Hangout, where you can see and interact with monkeys, sloths and parrots up close. There was a time when the Hangout would allow you to hold a sloth for a few minutes, but unfortunately (for us, anyway), Honduras passed a law prohibiting this. Sloths are native to Honduras (mainland), but not to Roatan. The sloths and monkeys at the Hangout were all rescued. Some came from abusive, dirty, dingy environments. Some of the monkeys were even former pets of people who just tired of them (that type of thing makes my blood boil).

The sloths, for the most part, were… sloths. They were mostly sleeping, occasionally waking up to look at us and scratch themselves. “Sloths don’t do anything. They’re lazy. Sloths are just like koalas, just uglier,” Chris remarked. While it could be interpreted as a bit mean, he’s got a point. We watched them on their trees, and then eventually moved on to see the green and scarlet macaws up close. The macaws, if given an incentive (something tasty), would fly onto people’s heads and arms. For the second time in my life, I got to have a macaw perch on my arm. She was a lot lighter than I thought she would be. It’s likely my dad’s influence since he loves birds and most animals, but I’ve always loved these creatures. Seeing this scarlet macaw up close with her beautiful vibrant red, yellow, and blue feathers, all so tightly preened, was so much fun. Kaia was a little scared when she saw the macaws and didn’t want to get too close, but when she saw one on my arm, she immediately was intrigued. I think she is definitely more like me than Chris in this regard: Chris doesn’t care to get close to any animal unless it’s on his plate. Kaia loves looking at and petting animals.

The last stop was the spider monkeys cage, which we were warned could potentially result in us getting pooped or peed on. Given we were already there, I figured I’d be okay with that risk. Plus, I wanted Kaia to experience getting close to the monkeys. The monkeys would jump from person to person, either on our heads or shoulders, in a circle. While the monkey never climbed on top of Kaia, a monkey did get on top of me, which Kaia was super excited about and giggled endlessly for. I just loved seeing her reactions to the different animals and hearing all the questions she would ask about them and what they were doing. This animal experience definitely piqued her curiosity.

After the Hangout, we made a stop at the beautiful Spirit Origin Coffee, where we enjoyed an extremely meticulous and premium coffee tasting flight (that cost almost $50 USD!). We got to see views of the water on both sides of the building. And while I sat with Kaia on a comfy couch overlooking the ocean and we took turns drawing on her doodle pad, Chris got to sit at the coffee bar and listen to explanations of how the coffee was made and the stories behind it. I occasionally went up to the bar to share tastes and also to sniff the differences between the whole beans versus the ground beans. In all three bean scenarios, the ground vs. whole scent was a world apart! I never would have guessed the grounds were from the same whole beans. This place is so fancy that they even do a coffee omakase experience, where downstairs, you can have a full tasting menu meal with a coordinated cup of coffee to go with each course. They sent us home with two packets of coffee — each valued at about $9 USD each. The 12 oz. bags range in price from $36 to $69; we’ve never paid that much for coffee in the U.S., so I think this definitely gave us a sense of exactly how luxurious this Honduran coffee truly was.

And after the very premium coffee stop, our next stop… was a confusing one because Chris didn’t know how we’d get to the restaurant he wanted us to get to. The land ended, and there was water we’d have to go through to get to this, place, and it was unclear how we’d do that. The further east side of the island is far more local and residential feeling. We were driving in a very grassy area when a random guy came out of nowhere and asked us where we were trying to go. Chris told him he was looking for a specific restaurant that was out in the mangroves, so this man told us that we could pay $10 to park in this private spot (a patch of grass in front of someone’s house), and his friend would help boat us over to the bar. We went through the mangroves and onto a rickety floating bar setup to eat some fried pork, fried red snapper, and tostones, all in the company of the bar attendant and another local. They were likely wondering how the hell we even found this place. But Chris does like to work his magic. The food was really good and fresh. The service was very friendly and helpful; everyone was warm and spoke excellent English. And we got to have lunch in the middle of a mangrove — how often does this happen? Kaia even got to see a baby jellyfish up close because our boat guy found a tiny one and flipped it over so we could see its tentacles up close.

And with that, we went back to West End to pick up some excellent jerk chicken from Anthony’s Chicken & More and then went back to the hotel for more sunset pool time (and more fighting over the floaties between mama and Kaia, then a delicious dinner in our temporary apartment.

We’re not normally resort people, but I must say that I really, really love this hotel property. I love the pool setup and how it’s steps away from the beautiful white sand beach with clear waters. The service has been extremely warm and hospitable. I love the decor and the layout and the different types of living setups, from regular hotel rooms to apartments with balconies to bungalows. And I even love the little details, like the bathroom layouts in the common areas and the open circle swings randomly placed inside. I love that you can see the ocean and the sunset right from the hotel pool, and we’ve been able to enjoy that to get in our “resort time.” I also like that the resort fee includes rentals of snorkeling equipment (everything from the snorkels to the fins) and life vests — and even sand castle building tools! This is very important for my little Pookie!

First day in Roatan, Honduras

After a bleary eyed 6am flight, then a connecting flight in Miami, we reached Roatan at about midday local time. Chris decided that to be cost efficient and more flexible for transportation that we’d rent a car for our time on the island, so we got our rental car, then had to switch rental cars because Apple Play was not working. It was actually funny when Chris realized this while in the driver’s seat; he asked me to find the attendant who helped us. I got out of the car and told the attendant, to which he shrugged indifferently and said, “Well, that car’s Apple Play doesn’t work, so, eh?” So in other words, he knew but he didn’t really care. Yes, that may be no big deal for him since he’s a local, but we’re tourists who have never been there, so we kind of need the map navigation help, buddy!

We got to our hotel, where we were escorted via golf buggy to our one-bedroom apartment/suite. Whenever we get larger hotel rooms with multiple rooms or suites, I always have multiple thoughts in my head, the main ones being: 1) I’m very grateful for the luxurious experience, as I am extremely cognizant that most people either cannot afford to have these rooms or would never be given complimentary upgrades the way we have on countless occasions, and 2) the one that seems to stick with me the most is that most of these suites/apartments would be multiple times the sizes of average New York City apartments. When you are used to living in small spaces and are temporarily given very large spaces to enjoy, that in itself feels like a luxury and a privilege. The apartment already had a roller bed laid out neatly for Kaia. In the apartment was separate one bedroom, a full bathroom, a large living/dining area, a full kitchen with all the utensils/appliances you could possibly ask for (even a blender and a toaster!). The cherry on top was the large balcony, which overlooked the resort and ocean. It was well appointed with a couch and a table and chairs for dining.

We ended up going out to the West End for some lunch and walking. West End is a short drive from the West Bay Beach area where we’re staying — it’s set up like a little seaside village, with a leisurely vibe and walking strip that runs along the water and beach. We stopped at a local’s spot for the unofficial national dish of Honduras: the baleada. Given it was lunch time, I ordered one stuffed with fried pork, one with beef and avocado. Both came with refried beans, mantequilla (sour cream), and cheese on the inside. I also got two fresh juices, one papaya and one pineapple, plus a side of plantains. Interestingly, the plantains order was half-half: one half was very ripe and sweet, while the other half was more raw and savory. Chris appreciated this because he prefers the less ripe plantains, but I always obsess over the sweet ones. The baleadas were very satisfying: the tortilla was griddled really well with slight char bits on the outside, and the innards were soft, pliable, and fluffy. And predictably, Chris did make his chapati comparison.

After lunch, we walked along the water and ended up sitting at a local popular coffee spot. They use 100% Honduran beans, which was exactly what we wanted. We ordered a vanilla frappe and an iced latte, both were very smooth and well made. As was similar during our time in El Salvador and Guatemala, you can definitely eat relatively cheap while in Honduras if you really want to (a basic baleada, depending on where you get it from, can be as little as $1.50 USD), but coffee is quite pricey everywhere, as though you are buying it in the U.S.

We made our way back to the hotel for late afternoon pool time. The pool is laid out really well at our hotel and is just steps from the famous and crystal clear West Bay Beach. And lucky for us, there weren’t that many people in it. I was able to grab my newly identified half-body floaty… and wait for Kaia to try to take it from me multiple times. So we got to have some water time (and Kaia got to have some floaty and “starfish” time) right at sunset. I have a feeling sunset pool time will become a temporary ritual for us while we’re here in Roatan.

Chris’s parents go back Down Under after a month-plus in North America

Chris’s parents left this afternoon for their long flight back to Melbourne after just over a month of traipsing around North America, with several days or week-long stints at our place. It’s always fun in the lead-up to their arrival, and then there’s some sadness at the end when Kaia realizes that her beloved Sumi and Topi are not going to cater to her demands every evening forever and ever because they will leave. Even I feel a little sad when they go. There’s less people and thus less chatter and noise in the house. There are fewer mouths to feed, which is sad for me because I enjoy feeding those I love. And then there is also just less energy in the house. I even miss the things that can at times be annoying, like Chris’s dad constantly trying to eat everything with a fork and knife (even things like… muffins or french fries…) because he hates getting his hands dirty, or Chris’s mom asking for the millionth time if we are going to run yet another wash. I miss the classist conversations of Chris yelling at his parents about how pretentious they are, and even the one-sided talks about how marriages of today don’t last simply because people of my generation have unreasonably high standards and inflexibility (said by people who would most likely be seen as inflexible and stubborn, but hey, who needs self-awareness today?). The banter is fun because I know it will all eventually go out the door with them. So it’s all temporal and good entertainment for me.

As I left the building, our handyman friend asked us what was new, and I told him that Chris’s parents just left to go back to Melbourne. “Oh, you can breathe a sigh of relief then!” he said to me, patting me on my back.

“No, I actually am sad they are leaving,” I smiled. “The more, the merrier!”

“Well, isn’t that unusual!” he responded back, surprised.

He says this to me pretty much every year they come, and he forgets that I genuinely like my in-laws. I like spending time with them. And every visit when they come and tolerate their eldest son’s ridiculous demands and our much smaller, cozier living space versus what they have, I am reminded again and again how, relatively speaking, they actually are quite easy-going, far more so than almost any other parent or in-law I have known or heard of, of their generation. And for that, I am always grateful.

Morning corn muffins gone awry

This June will officially mark 18 years that I’ve been living in New York City. I have lived more of my life now on the East Coast than the West, and that feels kind of strange to acknowledge out loud. When people think of things that mark their new lives in a new place, especially in a concrete jungle like New York where tiny apartments and even tinier kitchens are the norm, most of them probably do not think about the kitchen gear they started with.

But I do. I still remember when I had to build my original kitchen from scratch, I slowly but surely made visits to the Kmart (RIP — one at Astor Place in Manhattan, which has since been replaced by the massive Wegman’s) and to Target at Queens Center Mall in Elmhurst, Queens. I remember some of my very first kitchen purchases quite fondly: my two tempered glass Anchor brand lasagna/casserole pans, my cheap $8 nonstick cookie sheets that lasted over 10 years, my Corelle dining set (with a design that I really dislike, but I was cheap at the time, so I got it since it was the cheapest option), and my standard sized metal 12-muffin tin.

I don’t have all those kitchen items anymore. Many I gave away, like some Corelle pieces that were duplicates of things Chris had when I moved in with him, or the smaller Anchor casserole pan that I rarely used (gifted to another friendly Buy-Nothing member!). The cookie sheets actually failed, warped, and somehow managed to snap in the oven — they literally went out with a bang — a pretty terrifying one! The muffin tin was heavily used when I lived in Elmhurst, but only sporadically since I moved to Manhattan. And then today, this 18-year-old muffin tin unfortunately saw its demise.

I got inspired to make muffins again during our recent May weekend up in the Finger Lakes/Ithaca with Chris’s parents. Along the way, we made a quick breakfast stop at this delicious, popular spot called Dottie Audrey’s Bakery + Kitchen. There, we ordered two perfectly made breakfast sandwiches, a walnut sticky bun, a sour cream coffee cake slice, and a huge, fat corn muffin stuffed with strawberry jam. While I loved everything we got from here, I will say that immediately, my first thought was that I wanted to try replicating the super crunchy corn top of the corn muffin. I loved the crunchy muffin top texture so much contrasted with the gritty, coarse, yet fluffy, not-too-sweet muffin innards. I remembered that a friend told me she used a blueberry corn muffin recipe she liked a lot from NYT Cooking, so I decided to go with that. The only swap I made was replacing half the all-purpose flour with whole wheat flour for extra whole grains.

Well, I didn’t have muffin liners, so I generously oiled the muffin tin and filled them with batter, then baked it. Unfortunately, the muffins didn’t beautifully dome the way I was hoping. Instead, they kind of flattened on top of the tin, and I realized immediately that I was going to have a frustrating (and messy!) time popping these muffins out. And it was super annoying: several of them broke apart as I removed them from the tin. One almost completely disintegrated into a pile of massive crumbs, and I ended up eating the crumbs by the handful. They were tasty, but they didn’t have a beautiful dome, and they were nowhere as crunchy as Dottie Audrey’s Bakery + Kitchen.

If we didn’t have Chris’s parents over as guests (or any guests for that matter), I’d never make muffins because Chris isn’t that into them, and I can’t bring myself to eat this many muffins. And then Kaia prefers the mini ones. Muffins are kind of like dessert to me: they are a special occasion-at-home bake like cake or cookies are. We need more mouths to warrant the effort to make them. But with this, I realized that the end of this muffin tin’s life had finally arrived. So after rinsing it, I said goodbye to it as I chucked it into the recycling bin (it’s metal, so it must be recyclable, right?!).

Now, I am debating whether I want to buy a replacement regular-sized silicone muffin plan, or if I should just live with a 6-muffin silicone pan I was gifted at graduation in 2008, plus the mini muffin pan I use for Kaia’s healthy muffin treats.

Not all mascarpone is made equally

I was whipping up the heavy cream, powdered sugar, kesar mango pulp, and mascarpone cream for the mango tiramisu for my father-in-law’s birthday yesterday, and it suddenly dawned on me that something wasn’t quite right. I kept looking down into the bowl while mixing and wondering why there were tiny little white chunky blobs floating in my creamy mixture. And then… it hit me: the mascarpone cheese was not breaking up properly. I did the suggested thing of letting it sit on the counter for about 20-30 minutes before I mixed it, but that did not seem to help. And I was scared that if I kept using my hand mixer, it would turn my cream mixture into butter. So I eventually just relented and decided that I would continue assembling the mango tiramisu even with the uneven mango cream/mascarpone mixture.

When I served the mango tiramisu today, no one else seemed to notice the white chunky mascarpone bits. I noticed them in some bites, but I was at least relieved that overall, the chunks had melded in. I told my cooking friend about this, and she told me that she actually just read an article about how mascarpone is not all made equally. I advised her for the future that she should never, ever buy Whole Foods brand mascarpone cheese. I bought it in a rush to get the dessert ingredients in order in time, but normally, I would buy BelGioioso brand from Trader Joe’s, which always whips up easily. I checked with AI, and for future reference, Galbani and Ciresa brands are also supposed to be excellent, premium mascarpone brands to consider. Sorry, Whole Foods — you just didn’t cut it this time for me.