Another one of those child dancing videos

Chock full of self-confidence after her previous night of dance moves in Jamaica, Katie decided to enter the resort talent show. She and her new friend, Zoe, practiced for hours.They had a great time and loved being the center of attention. Unfortunately, they didn't get to go on until 9pm, so they were a little sleepy. But, no stage fright for these girls... or Timmy.

Sometime after her stage premier, though, Katie caught site of some locals dancing. It may have been during the pool games the next day. But somehow, somewhere...she realized that this is a way more entertaining way to dance:

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Speechless

I've been learning some interesting things about Katie in Jamaica.

Today, as I caught up with her and the other children from kids camp, on their way to the beach for a sandcastle making competition, I noticed she was howling. A cute little girl with long brown hair solemnly told me, "We think she's turning into a werewolf." When I inquired into what had caused such an alarming situation she looked at me with big serious eyes and told me "I'm half werewolf and I infected her." Of course I asked more questions...and was rewared with more sincere responses. Apparently, "It's from the bite. It tranferred into her blood." So yea, I'm now the daughter of a Jamaican werewolf.

And last night...well - last night Katie got her first kiss (other than that of the playground kissing tag variety - although of course I suppose this really was of the same variety). This older boy from England danced her into a tizzy and then apparently leaned in for a snog.

I'm pretty sure they should be cast in the next remake of Dirty Dancing, premised in Jamaica:

On our way  back to the room last night, I mentioned that she sure did seem to have a lot of boyfriends. She told me, "Well, I don't have one of them anymore. "Sean broke up with me." Am I really hearing this correctly? Apparently she knew he was her boyfriend because he broke up with another little girl who is in their daycare and kindergarten class. There were about 3 more breakups somewhere involved in the whole explanation. I asked her, "Katie, do you even know what breaking up means?" And oh...she did: "It means he's not in love with me anymore." Folks I just don't know what to say. Besides advising her that she is much too young to let any boys kiss her or to worry about having boyfriends. Really, I am speechless.

Oh and guess what...turns out the boy above has an uncle who lives in the next town over from me. Talk about a small world. I would joke and make a remark about how funny it would be if they ended up falling in love some day, but I had a conversation with him on the beach today would prove that isn't likely.Apparently he didn't recognize me as Katie's mum - and he was telling me all about this dumb girl who won the treasure hunt at Kids Camp the previous day. I told him it wasn't nice to call anyone dumb and he went on to tell me, but she really was...she didn't even know how to miniature golf properly. But then he relented that they did then become good friends and danced together. I chided him and reminded him that he was talking about my daughter. And he was speechless.

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We miss you, Daddy! (Hope you're having fun at work)

I remember learning so many literary terms in high school English classes and college Core classes and Theatre classes: symbolism, themes, yada yada yada. Well, for those who are not lucky enough to know Katie closely (because using the word intimately just somehow seems wrong) - this video can sum up in 30 odd seconds what life with Katie is like. My girl - my smart wonderful girl - the girl my mom calls "special".

And yes, she did ride the short-bus to pre-school. But she's just your typical 5yo, now. So to all the mom's of 5yo girls out there, I'm drinking one for you right now. A mango vodka and 7, to be precise.

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Silent but Deadly

Reason #342,524 why I would never make it on "Survivor"...only 1 night in Jamaica and my leg* looks like this:

The other leg doesn't look much better. And I never even saw them coming. Never felt them biting. Never heard their pointy straw like apparatus jamming into my skin over and over again.

If you haven't figured out by now, I'm here in Jamaica. My weeklong twitter and facebook campaign to find someone to go with me and the kids**was a bust, but I finally told my mother-in-law she had no choice convinced my mother-in-law to come with us. We got here yesterday and will be Philly bound on Sunday afternoon.

I'll be live blogging (and tweeting via @JulieBouf) all week. Well live plus the 6,345 minutes it takes to upload each photo. And tweeting meaning, on my laptop - since it would cost about $7,234 in data charges every time I turn my phone on. Check back frequently this week, I'll be posting a lot. Randomly. Throughout the day. Whenever I feel like it, mon.

*I'm positive that my calf isn't really this large and that it MUST be swollen from all of these mosquito bites. Swollen skin and rock hard muscle (NOT 32 years of overeating and overall laziness).

**If you really have no idea what I'm talking about, shame on you. My husband realized it really wasn't possible to take off from work, after all, just one week before our vacation. Good times. It's all I talked about for a week straight. And to everyone here in Jamaica. Hell, even my 5yo greeted our resort greeter with,"Hi, we're here for our vacation. We brought grandma cause my daddy has to work and couldn't come and we'll call him on the telephone every night."

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