For the past two weeks I've been on vacation in the Caribbean. For the first three days I was in New Orleans and after that the family and I went on a 7 Day Western Caribbean cruise with Carnival Cruise Lines.  Maybe you're curious why we chose to go on a cruise. Maybe you're not. Either way I'll tell you why – because everyone swore to me it was the ultimate family vacation. The best way to make sure that three generations – from 55 to 2 – had fun. It's all inclusive. The food is paid for. There are plenty of things to keep every single person busy. And then, and then if that's not enough there are shore excursions.

Obviously these people don't know my family at all. And the next person who gives me advice on the perfect vacation? Well I'm going to take them out and hamstring them.

Day One – six hours in a tiny pool and burnt feet on the water slide. "Mom my shoulders hurt. I'm bored."

Day Two, the oldest goes to Camp Carnival for three hours and the youngest goes to play with the babies. Lunch. Youngest has strange, vaguely human looking bite on his arm. Oldest goes back to camp. Youngest refuses. We take turns playing with youngest and reading on Kindles and I spend time typing away on a story that isn't quite finished to my satisfaction yet. At dinner oldest asks  "we are going to do something tomorrow aren't we?"

Day Three:  The oldest sighs and goes to camp again. Youngest once again refuses. Boredom sets in.

Day Four: Belize. Zip lining. Just the girls. Daddy stays behind with the youngest (who is too young to zip line) and we trek into the Belizian jungle to see assorted birds, butterflies, and jungle creatures. It's not nearly as hot as you think a jungle would be. Oldest explains to me this is the "best adventure ever". I have to agree. Zip lining will get its own blog because it is by far the best adventure ever.  Even for someone terrified of heights.  The only problem is, Mom is not Oldest. Mom has studied Economics for way too long in University. And Mom? Well Mom sees a whole lot of "have nots" roaming around Belize while we use their jungle to zip line in. If Tourism is their Number 1 "export product" and big cruise ships are docking every week why is it that so many people don't seem to be getting fat off the bounty coming off these ships? And trust me, some of these people are quite fat. So Mom does what any well trained scientist does. Mom digs. Turns out the "recommended shops" (right there at the gangway that offer 'Huge Discounts') these shops aren't owned by locals. These shops are owned by companies that are partially owned by the cruise ship industry. Mommy thinks "yes, Belize may be making money but they're not getting the lion's share of the profit here." Mom begins to wonder if that progressive bleeding heart of her youth might still be in there.

Day Five: Intended shore excursion to Mahogany Bay, Isla Roatan, Honduras. Cancelled because the glassy water we see from our windows is "too treacherous to dock in". The Captain's words. Not mine. Worry not, the money you spent to go on shore, we'll use it as a credit for things to buy on ship. Not being a fan of expensive jewelry (have enough thanks and I only have 10 fingers, 10 toes, 2 ears and 1 neck) or duty free booze, or designer perfume this requires me to go to the desk. Grudgingly I am told this money will eventually be returned to my credit card where my line of credit with the cruise ship has been established. Although wouldn't I much prefer to try my hand at the casino? Not really, thanks. I have a story to type away on. Oldest asks if there are any books in the library she can read and requests a land based vacation next year. Mommy continues to chant "the boat is not moving. The boat is not moving. You are not going to throw up. The boat is not moving." Stomach is still not fooled.

Day Six: Cozumel Mexico. Also known as my 31st birthday. The gangway is a mile long and loaded down with Carnival photographers. How many pictures do I really need of my joy at being back on solid ground? Carnival thinks I need at least 5. And a trip through duty free for booze to celebrate.

Then I got to swim with dolphins. And drink margaritas. Not at the same time because I think the fish smell from the lagoon would have really killed the joy in my strawberry margarita but they are the same trip so I rejoice. Splurge for tequila in duty free because Ano Gold is only available in Mexico and I have missed it greatly the past 5 years when I haven't lived near the border where it routinely "accidentally" made its way into my local Liquor Store. Begin mentally taking stock of margarita related ingredients at home.  Most importantly I am on land. Which means the urge to hurl has disappeared.

Dinner. Amazing once again. The video of my special birthday hat and being sung Happy Birthday by three tables full of people will be posted on Facebook sometime today. Only regret? Not having more of an appetite for birthday cake. Cake was awesome. It probably held my caloric intake for a week but it was awesome anyway. My only regret is that I could only eat one piece.

Day Seven: Oldest – "We're at sea again?  When do we get back to port? Couples are beginning to fight. Loudly. The drunks are beginning to get weepy. Children are beginning to bicker. The staff is significantly less friendly than they were on Day One. The sheets are decidedly grubby from sunscreen, sweat, dirt, and saltwater over the past seven days. People are beginning to grumble about how they may have gotten scammed on their bills. Or in Mexico. Is this shirt I bought from a street vendor in Belize fading already? Why the Hell is the waterslide only open ½ the time? How much is that drink again? What do you mean I've been drinking three a day of these things and you've been watering down the booze the whole time? Festive is beginning to die. And this is when they bring around the envelopes for tipping the maitre des. Once people have realized that a $70 per person gratuity was automatically added to their bill and they have to deal with Customer Service to get it taken off. The cruise has given up on the paid entertainment and gone to passenger karaoke. I realize that I'm not the only tone deaf person in America who can't carry a tune in a bucket.

Now, to be fair, the food is awesome. I may have gained twenty pounds this trip and that's with the seasickness. The stateroom steward is amazing. I think the man may be part ninja. He's that stealthy. Every time the magician comes around my youngest grabs his nose because he's convinced the magician first pulled 1 foam ball out of it and then somehow got 4 more up in there at the end of his tableside act. The guy was so good even I couldn't follow his hands. And most three card monty players will only go two rounds before they run me off. The waitstaff? These people are masters. Masters who seem to be serving us breakfast, lunch and dinner. Always with a  smile. Always with a kind word. Always remembering the children's names and little quirks about them. The hostess Dewi remembers husband's diet and asks about the sunburn she spotted on my shoulders the first day. Asks how the knotty plotline bit that didn't work the day before is coming. The waiter Leroy remembers that Youngest prefers everything with ketchup and asks Oldest about movie she told him she was going to see the night before. He listens attentively to Oldest talk about zip lining and makes appreciative noises about the bruise on her knee.  The waitress Ika greets Youngest and asks for fist bumps and kisses. She remembers that Oldest likes hot chocolate only luke warm and doctors it with milk to get it just right. These are the people who make cruises great. The nameless people who have patron's snapping fingers in their direction and still smile. The people who seem to be working when I get up and when I go to bed. And I remember working long hours and still keeping a smile on my face. Not  being allowed to take tips because "to serve is reward enough". These people are what keep Day Seven from becoming a nightmare of epic proportions as people coming off a Caribbean high begin to bounce off each other.  They're the people who keep this place from starting to look like the end of 24 Hour Party People with John Simm (a great movie if you haven't seen it).

In the end? I got twelve uninterrupted days with my family to just take a break and get away from the world. Twelve beautiful days in the sun. Zip lining, swimming with dolphins. Great food. My hair is like straw and I would willingly kill my own mother in law for a Dramamine but I got twelve worry free days with my kids. And even my characters are breathing sighs of relief at how uncluttered my mind has become. But next year? I'm going somewhere where the closest I have to get to moving water is a beach chair.