3 Islands, 1 Day: A St. John Adventure

So I have this friend who is definitively spontaneous. She is one of the most incredible human beings I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. We went to breakfast the other day near the seaplane dock in town, and she looks at me and says, "Hey, you wanna go to St. John for the day?" I laughed quickly and then looked at her and realized she was 100% serious. So we walked over there after breakfast, and we realized that we were sorta too late to do it that day since King had to work later in the afternoon...and decided we do it a couple days later instead. 

One thing I love about her is that she just has this zest for life and completely embodies the spirit of "tomorrow is not promised" and "carpe diem". She definitely encourages me to do one thing that scares me every day. Have you heard of that phrase? Well, I really thought I wasn't afraid of much, but this adventure was definitely within that realm. I mean, it's not like we went skydiving or anything, but since becoming a mother, I've been a lot less likely to take any sort of risks. So yes, I definitely did something a bit scary and went island hopping for the day!

The photo below is not a picture of a toy. It is an actual airplane. That I rode. When we walked out onto the tarmac I was looking at it going, "this is not for real. Is that thing remote controlled? I mean, can you fit actual humans in that thing?" Spunky is a bit of a nervous flier, though, so I pushed all that fear aside and decided it was totally 100% safe. Not only that, it can fit up to 10 actual humans! 

The mandatory pre-take-off airplane selfie. 

Two other people joined us on our flight to St. Thomas (there is no airport on St. John), one of them being Donastorg, who is a gubernatorial candidate for the upcoming election here in the US Virgin Islands. He had brought a super adorable puppy with him, but he wasn't allowed to bring him aboard due to the fact that he was not in a proper carrier. Fortunately, Mr. Donastorg has plenty of associates who were able to make sure that the puppy was in good hands while he traveled.  

 Flying in a turbo prop is a bit different than flying on a commercial jet! It may have been a bit scary, but the views are unmatched! This is the view as we were coming into St. Thomas.

Our pilot from Cape Air was such a sweetheart! He did a great job making sure that we were comfortable and safe, and he didn't bat an eye when we asked for a photo op at the end of our journey! He thought he was going to be flying us back to St. Croix later that day, but unfortunately he was done for the day when we went back.

Being the perfect Gubernatorial Candidate, Mr. Donastorg offered to pose for a photo with us as well. AND when he realized that we were looking to get a gypsy cab into Red Hook to catch the ferry, he offered to give us a ride out to the main road. A classic taxi would have cost us a considerable amount of money, as opposed to the $2 gypsy cab ride. His driver's music choice was a bit...odd (gangster rap?)...but they were both very kind and hospitable and helped get our adventure off to a great start! 

We had to walk a bit to catch a cab, but that just added to the adventure! I really like the idea of the gypsy cabs. They are open air cabs that have plenty of seating for lots of people. They run one main route around the island, and they are really affordable. It's a simple $2 charge per ride! We went all the way from Charlotte Amalie to Red Hook, which would have cost us $30 for a classic cab.  

The ride across St. Thomas definitely affected me in an unexpected way. I was very overwhelmed with how busy it is there. When I say busy, I mean crowded. And when I say crowded, I am not just talking about people. There was only one cruise ship docked that day, but o.m.g. There were just countless amounts of buildings and vehicles and shopping centers and people and noises and restaurants and...just A LOT. I didn't even realize that I had become very anxious until Spunky asked me if I was okay because I had gotten incredibly quiet. I assured her that I was just fine, but I didn't even realize that I was most definitely NOT fine until later. In moving to St. Croix, I have learned to live on island time. Life is slower, it's more relaxed. It's quieter and not nearly as busy as anywhere else on Earth. So that gypsy cab ride across a very bustling island was not my favorite part of our little adventure!

Once we arrived at Red Hook, we were starving. Rather than hurry to catch the next ferry to St. John, we decided to relax (MUCH NEEDED) for a moment, catch our breath, and have breakfast at Molly Malone's. This place was just what we needed. The service was fast, the food was reasonably priced and yummy, and how can you beat BOTTOMLESS bevies for $12?!?! The only thing I could really pout about was that I had 3 Bloody Mary's and a mimosa and didn't feel the least bit tipsy. So let's remember they're bottomless for a reason ;) The drinks were still tasty, though! 

Here we are on the ferry from Red Hook to St. John. The best part about this ferry ride was that it was open air (errr..water?) and so we got SOAKED once the boat picked up to full speed out in the open water.

 Above is where the ferry drops off at St. John in Cruz Bay. It's an amazing view, and it definitely sets the bar pretty high as far as beautiful scenery. Right off the boat, there were open air cabs waiting to take everyone to their beach of choice ---well, unless you want to go to the other side of the island in Coral Bay (which we found out later). We decided to hang out in Cruz Bay for a bit and to poke around at Mongoose Junction to see what all the shops had to offer. I really loved the "tree house" feel of this eclectic little shopping area. There were plenty of shops to explore ranging from budget bargains all the way up to luxury splurges. So it is a great little spot for everyone!

We grabbed a quick bevy (classic rum punch) at Ocean Grill, and I must say that it wasn't my favorite drink on island (small size and had a major bite). They did have a nice selection of different specialty drinks, including rum-tinis, which might have been fun if we had more time to spend there. The atmosphere there was cute, but there wasn't much of a view, being that it is right in the center of the shopping area.

 After our mini shopping excursion, we decided to hop into one of the cabs and check out Cinnamon Bay, where we were thinking we might stay for a girls' trip later this summer. The cab ride is $7/pp if you have more than one person, $6/pp if you are going to Trunk Bay. We had a very charismatic cabby, and I really do think it made a big difference! We couldn't really understand much of what he was saying over the speaker, but he had a wealth of knowledge about the island and gave us a mini-tour while we were en route to Cinnamon Bay. This little ride was one of the best parts about the adventure! The views are incredible, and it's fun to share a ride with random people! It definitely had the feeling of being on a safari ride at an amusement park, but it was MUCH more beautiful than any amusement park I've ever been to!

Cabby view from above Trunk Bay

Cabby view of the beach at Trunk Bay

After a quick recon mission at Cinnamon Bay, we decided that it might not be for us. It's part of the National Park, and Cinnamon Bay is one of the longest stretches of beach on St. John. However, the cabins we were thinking about renting were in quite a state of disrepair (think rat-chewed mattresses and ripped bug screens), and the restaurant was buffet style, open air in the middle of the woods..nowhere near the beach. We are quite spoiled here in St. Croix in that nearly (if not) all of the resort restaurants are located just steps from the beach with sweeping views of the Caribbean Sea.

We then decided to ask our cabby if he might take us down to Concordia in Saltpond Bay, and we were rather disappointed when he told us that it wouldn't be in the cards. "I don't know if I can do that today," he said. It is quite far from where we were, and I suppose he had the potential to make more money by shuffling tourists to and from the ferry dock instead. This goes back to what I mentioned earlier about cabbies offering to take you to your beach of choice (with an asterisk). Coral Bay is on the opposite side of the island, and I am told that it is more eclectic and rural than the Cruz Bay area. 

Since we were rather disappointed at Cinnamon Bay, we decided to head back to Cruz Bay and check out a cute little bar that we saw on the way in: 

The Beach Bar.

The Beach Bar is where we spent the majority of our time, and I'm not even the least bit mad about it. The atmosphere was very relaxed and also very hip at the same time. We noshed on some crab wontons (reminiscent of crab rangoon) and fish tacos while sipping on a frozen bevy (BBC for me, and Lime in da Coconut for Spunky) and enjoying some amazing people watching! The food was really good, and the drinks were great as well. The staff was super friendly, and they didn't hesitate in offering us some insider tips for our upcoming girls' trip. They have a cute little surf shop that is attached to the restaurant with super friendly staff there as well.

 The people watching was definitely my favorite thing about The Beach Bar, though, next to the amazing view of the harbor. There was a fun group of tourists from Texas that had just arrived and were kind enough to take our photo! One of the girls was really adorable and jumped into the water and exclaimed, "What have we been doing with our lives?!" And then she took her swimsuit top off and invited us to join her for a swim. 

Please note: it is not a great idea to swim in an area where lots of boats are anchored. The water is not very clean! We decided not to join her, but we did enjoy watching their group have a great time!

 We decided we should probably venture out and see another place before we had to ferry back to St. Thomas to catch our evening flight, and so we asked one of the guys at the surf shop attached to The Beach Bar where we definitely should not miss going. At his recommendation, we went to Woody's for Happy Hour!

 This place was definitely a must see if you are looking for a great party spot. This year's Virgin Islands Daily News winner of Most Entertaining Bar did not disappoint! The bartenders were gorgeous (girls), the drinks were cheap ($1 beers for happy hour!), and the music (country) was loud! Our pick for favorite drink was the "Stiff Willy," which is a rum concoction of sorts. Yum. And since the theme of the day had been eating (well, and boozing), we couldn't leave without trying a couple appetizers. I had the grilled scallops (AMAZING) and Spunky ordered the poppers: also great, but beware the "molten" cheese, as described by our bartender, Becca. 

By the end of the day, we were both sufficiently exhausted and ready to make our way back to St. Croix. We had so many laughs, so much food, and more drinks than we could count on our fingers. 

I think the funniest (and scariest) part of our trip, though, was our cab ride back to the airport in St. Thomas. We took a traditional cab this time so we could get there more quickly (we took a later ferry from STJ because we were having so much fun at Woody's), and it was not uneventful! Our cabby was quiet, and we were super loud. Well, we're both a bit loud by nature, but our cabby kept turning up the radio. I'm not even sure if Spunky noticed it, but I got a good chuckle out of that. So, we got to a stoplight about maybe 10 minutes or less from the airport when I saw smoke coming from what could be the hood of our cab. I asked, "Umm, that smoke isn't coming from OUR car, right?!" He assured me that it was coming from the big truck that we were next to while at the stoplight. Well, a couple of lights later he laughed and said, "ooohhh, that is my car!" OMG. I about lost it, and Spunky was laughing. I was just wringing my hands and shaking my leg...PLEASE let us make it to the airport alive...and ON TIME!!! I can't tell you what the hell was wrong with dude's cab, but I can tell you that we made it to the airport safely and with plenty of time to catch our flight back home. 

We had such a fabulous time together, and I can't wait for our next adventure!

Why Do Fools (Codependents) Love Their (Narcissist) Moms?

I'm so thankful for Google, I swear. I think I'm almost as thankful for Google as I am that I ever called McHottie's office number.

So, this crazy thing happened (Shocking, I know). Okay, bear with me here while I give you a pretty substantial amount of backstory, seeing as how I haven't written in awhile again.

Mamabear moved to our peaceful little island in December. Okay, well, maybe not entirely peaceful -but way less turbulent than our lives were Stateside. Anyway, we knew it was going to be...stressful, living with Mamabear. However, she really wanted to move right away (read: jump ship), and so we welcomed her with open arms. Well, I mean, we were hopeful that she would hold true to her word that she was uber-missing her grandbabies, and she wanted to help King and I reconnect (we had quite a bit of trauma involving Aunt Trip last summer).

From a couple of days in, we knew it wasn't going to be like...you know, a picnic on the beach or anything. However, I had hoped that gentle coaching (as opposed to my usual bluntness) would help her see that her Stateside behavior/habits just weren't going to be acceptable here. The high level of expectations (What's for dinner? What are the plans today? Are there any clean towels? I'm really going to need help acquiring transportation aside from this short term rental... It's absolutely mandatory that I shop on Christmas Eve!), the overuse of limited resources (ie. water & electricity), among other things were just the beginning of the challenges. After several attempts at 'big talks,' in which I attempted to impress upon her that she was being rather selfish & unrealistic (without damaging her fragile ego), I gave up entirely. I felt that I was wasting time and precious oxygen, and I really thought (foolishly) that I could just let it go. Really though, I wasn't letting go of anything. I was letting everything fester.

A few days prior to my "ah-ha moment" (which I am leading up to), I had asked her to watch the girls for a bit (an hour, to be exact) so that I might go down the road to enjoy a cocktail and catch up with some friends. I came home around 7:30pm to find my youngest asleep, my eldest awake (thankfully, quietly watching Netflix) and Mamabear passed out in my bed -mouth open and snoring. A few seconds later (maybe 30?) she said, "Boo!" and tried to pass it off as though she was only pretending to sleep. I didn't even acknowledge it. I said nothing, but I was determined not to leave them with her again. This was at least the 3rd time I had come home to her not taking care of my children in some form or fashion.

Fast forward to what started out as a most promising, beautiful Sunday on the beach, complete with good friends, food, and drinks (yes, the adult variety). We had been having such a great time that King decided he would take the Jeep back to Mamabear at work (it was time for him to go in, and she had finished up). She could then bring the Jeep back to the beach and join us (We had been sharing a vehicle since she moved down).

Something set me off. I am not exactly sure what, as my memory from the time she arrived at the beach until much later that night has failed me. From the accounts of my friends who were there, she was "stewing" while sitting on the beach watching the rest of us have a good time in the water. I then became belligerent, and it was time to go. I didn't want to go home, but my friends advised me that it was not a good idea to leave the girls alone with her again, though that would have given me the time I needed to cool down. That left me in quite the predicament, right? Go home knowing I'm unbelievably angry and likely face confrontation...or leave my girls with someone who provides about as much care for them as my animals could. I rode back home with my friends, while the girls rode back with Mamabear.

When we arrived home, I remember repeatedly telling her she needed to get out of my house. I also remember her repeatedly denying my requests. I have also been recounted this story by my friend (we'll call her Jane) who was present. Jane decided to get the girls showered, and in that time frame, I ended up on my back with Mamabear on top of me, repeatedly bashing my head into the tile floor and striking me in the face. I don't remember most of it...I do remember crying for Jane...I am eternally grateful that she was there. If not for her, I'm not sure I'd even be writing this entry right now (or ever). In the end, I looked like I have been feeling all these years -a human punching bag. Jane believes that I must have lost consciousness at some point. I couldn't say honestly whether I did or did not. All I know is that no one deserves to be treated in such a way, no matter how 'drunk' or 'unreasonable' she may be.

I spent several days in my house due to unrelenting migraines and swelling and bruising that could never have been covered with any amount of makeup. Truthfully, I should have gone to the hospital. She went to work the next day (after having been nearly forcibly removed from our home by King) with a few scratches and a bruise on her arm and made sure that everyone she encountered knew that it was because of my belligerence and unprovoked attack on her. She told people that she suspected that I had been using illegal drugs (she even accused me directly of this). She told others that I am an alcoholic and also that I shouldn't be drinking in combination with my (imaginary) anti-depressants. She then (of course) vehemently denies saying any of it and has blamed "the unreliable coconut telegraph" for the exaggerated misinformation.

It must be noted that I do not believe I am without fault here. I know that I acted completely irrationally and out of turn. I know that I completely lost control of my anger and acted inappropriately. I am quite sure there was a better time and place to handle my issues, and obviously there must be a better way to communicate apart from a violent confrontation. However, I did not use any illegal substances, nor did I misuse any prescription medications, as I am not currently prescribed any. I am absolutely at fault for my actions and sorry for the way I behaved.

It must also be noted that she has apologized for hurting me, but that apology is not without an asterisk. She has pleaded with me to understand that she would not have hurt me so badly had she not been provoked by me and had I not 'attacked' her 'out of nowhere'. So while she is sorry, I am still at fault for her inappropriate display of anger toward me. She also wholeheartedly denies that I had a concussion and insists that my memory loss is due 100% to my level of intoxication. Along with that, she does not believe she has gossiped to anyone about the incident.

Whatever the case, no one deserves what happened to me -no one. And there is absolutely no justification for this woman's actions...unless she's a Narcissist.

This brings me to Google. I didn't even use the word. I asked the question, "why does my mother lie to me?" Once I got past all of the "Santa Claus" nonsense, I came across the very accusatory term: Narcissist. I didn't think it was possible because of how 'fragile' and 'sensitive' she is. I swear it never even crossed my mind, but it's the only thing that makes any sense.

I read the first article, and it was like someone finally turned the lights on in my head. Nearly every single point was describing my mother and my childhood. And I have been the perfect codependent child. It's quite disturbing, really. However, at the same time as being entirely disturbing, it was nice for things to begin to add up properly. I just kept shaking my head and laughing hysterically at myself, as article after article kept pointing to the same thing...My mother is a narcissist. 

I even went back and read some of my earlier blog entries and realized that I have been protecting her this entire time, making sure not to damage her fragile and sensitive ego. Meanwhile, she has played me for a fool...a pawn on her chessboard of life. I am only as good as I am useful in making her feel better about herself. I am just a trophy on a shelf for her to polish and, within it, admire herself. For 30 years, I have played into her hands and she has been my puppet master.

I guess the long and short of things here is that through this terrible tragedy, I have learned a great deal. I have learned that it's time to get back onto that green (or blue) sofa. My work in therapy is clearly not finished, but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. At least there's a light. I have learned (yet again) that I'm really not as crazy as my parents (well, my entire family really) would like me to believe. I have learned that you can't just let go of things that require reparations. I have learned that it's not worth sacrificing oneself for a superficial relationship with a parent who is incapable of reciprocating authentic love.

So, all in all, I suppose getting smacked upside the head actually did do me a bit of good...

~~~If you suspect that one (or both) of your parents may be Narcissistic, I highly recommend reading~~~

Toxic Parents: Overcoming Their Hurtful Legacy and Reclaiming Your Life

Will I Ever Be Good Enough?: Healing the Daughters of Narcissistic Mothers 

The Wizard of Oz and Other Narcissists: Coping with the One-Way Relationship in Work, Love, and Family