We spent the last three days in Palm Springs, on a marriage retreat. My homie Joe says he and his wife Deanna don't retreat, they advance. I always laugh when he says that. But on the real, this sister needed a retreat. And the theme of the retreat was...relax into love. You don't gotta tell me twice. So off we went, into the vast desert that is Palm Springs.
It was h o t.
Apparently God smiled down upon us, because they said at this time of year, the temperature is normally between 113--115 degrees. Hello, death, come and take me now. Uuhhh, yeh. Pearmama doesn't do 115 degree heat. She dies. It was 101 degrees instead. And believe me, that was plenty hot. Even at 2 am. on our way back to the hotel after grabbing a snack, it was hot as hell outside.
But the resort itself was beautiful. Most likely the nicest place I will ever get to stay at. The pool, the fire pits, the restaurant, the sushi, the room--it was all very lovely. And what is it with hotel beds? They are like a little piece of heaven on earth. If you make your mind forget about that black-light investigative report on questionable hotel linens that you saw on Dateline...it's wonderful. All those pillows, the air, the crisp white sheets, the darkened room...the absolute supreme absence of children...good times, good times, my friend.
As usual, we had a whole host of issues trying to get there. Traffic, arguing, the heat, tire problems in the middle of the desert which caused us to turn back into Banning to buy a new one (Punk Rock Mom, I so totally wished I had your phone number so I could call you and tell you I was in your hood and holey smokes was that hood hot and desolate!), then realizing we were running late and I still had to shower and spackle and make myself presentable. Then when we checked in, we had a credit card issue.
We are hopeless, really.
I don't know how this fancy resort hotel stuff works. That's what happens when you have six chil'rens and you don't get out much and your idea of vacation is packing up the chil'rens and staying on the beach in Mexico in a tent. Oh, and by the way, Palm Springs is expensive. Saturday night we went out ot dinner with the lovely Will and Christina and a couple of other couples, we were flabbergasted to discover the guacamole dip cost $22! Gasp.
But I digress. Palm Springs is a beautiful place. The mountains, the air, the palm trees. Gorgeous. This was the first retreat that we were content to just lay around and do nothing. We relaxed, enjoyed each other, and just tried to soak up as much time together as we possibly could. Indoors, because I was horrified everytime I thought about going out in the heat. Pretty much anywhere I get to stay with my husband, alone, is special to me. Every trip we have every taken alone has been so memorable to me. Thanks, dear, for hanging in there with me.
I have to give props to Sandals. It is one of the most creative churches you will ever encounter. As usual, everything was beautiful, down to the last detail. During their marriage retreats, they are known for creating an activity called a "pillow talk". Let me just say, a couple of years ago, they gave us a can of body paint and told us to have fun. It was quite an experience. This year, one of the activities they had us do in our room on Saturday night was to wash each other's feet, just as Jesus did with His disciples. They gave each couple a beautiful bar of soap with lavender in it and a bottle of oil.
Michael and I each took turns washing each other's feet and anointing them with oil, praying a blessing over our marriage and our future together. I am a fool for a foot massage, and Michael does this often for me. But me, giving the massage...not so much. But it felt good knowing I was blessing my husband in this act of love. It is a very humbling act, to get down and wash someone's feet.
Our weekend ended with lunch at Souplantation (in good old San Bernardino) and a movie. We tried to suck every possible opportunity to enjoy this weekend--you know how we roll. As we drove to my mom's to pick up the chil'rens, I sighed to myself, back to reality. But, it was good to see the chil'rens happy, smiling faces. I am blessed.
It was h o t.
Apparently God smiled down upon us, because they said at this time of year, the temperature is normally between 113--115 degrees. Hello, death, come and take me now. Uuhhh, yeh. Pearmama doesn't do 115 degree heat. She dies. It was 101 degrees instead. And believe me, that was plenty hot. Even at 2 am. on our way back to the hotel after grabbing a snack, it was hot as hell outside.
But the resort itself was beautiful. Most likely the nicest place I will ever get to stay at. The pool, the fire pits, the restaurant, the sushi, the room--it was all very lovely. And what is it with hotel beds? They are like a little piece of heaven on earth. If you make your mind forget about that black-light investigative report on questionable hotel linens that you saw on Dateline...it's wonderful. All those pillows, the air, the crisp white sheets, the darkened room...the absolute supreme absence of children...good times, good times, my friend.
As usual, we had a whole host of issues trying to get there. Traffic, arguing, the heat, tire problems in the middle of the desert which caused us to turn back into Banning to buy a new one (Punk Rock Mom, I so totally wished I had your phone number so I could call you and tell you I was in your hood and holey smokes was that hood hot and desolate!), then realizing we were running late and I still had to shower and spackle and make myself presentable. Then when we checked in, we had a credit card issue.
We are hopeless, really.
I don't know how this fancy resort hotel stuff works. That's what happens when you have six chil'rens and you don't get out much and your idea of vacation is packing up the chil'rens and staying on the beach in Mexico in a tent. Oh, and by the way, Palm Springs is expensive. Saturday night we went out ot dinner with the lovely Will and Christina and a couple of other couples, we were flabbergasted to discover the guacamole dip cost $22! Gasp.
But I digress. Palm Springs is a beautiful place. The mountains, the air, the palm trees. Gorgeous. This was the first retreat that we were content to just lay around and do nothing. We relaxed, enjoyed each other, and just tried to soak up as much time together as we possibly could. Indoors, because I was horrified everytime I thought about going out in the heat. Pretty much anywhere I get to stay with my husband, alone, is special to me. Every trip we have every taken alone has been so memorable to me. Thanks, dear, for hanging in there with me.
I have to give props to Sandals. It is one of the most creative churches you will ever encounter. As usual, everything was beautiful, down to the last detail. During their marriage retreats, they are known for creating an activity called a "pillow talk". Let me just say, a couple of years ago, they gave us a can of body paint and told us to have fun. It was quite an experience. This year, one of the activities they had us do in our room on Saturday night was to wash each other's feet, just as Jesus did with His disciples. They gave each couple a beautiful bar of soap with lavender in it and a bottle of oil.
Michael and I each took turns washing each other's feet and anointing them with oil, praying a blessing over our marriage and our future together. I am a fool for a foot massage, and Michael does this often for me. But me, giving the massage...not so much. But it felt good knowing I was blessing my husband in this act of love. It is a very humbling act, to get down and wash someone's feet.
Our weekend ended with lunch at Souplantation (in good old San Bernardino) and a movie. We tried to suck every possible opportunity to enjoy this weekend--you know how we roll. As we drove to my mom's to pick up the chil'rens, I sighed to myself, back to reality. But, it was good to see the chil'rens happy, smiling faces. I am blessed.
From our room we could see a beautiful golf course. This picture sucks.
This is what we got to see everyday. Not too shabby.
Say queso!
Us with the other, but equally as important and wonderful, Cordero's...Marcus and Happiness. 
And with the lovely Will and Christina Cordero...Michael and Will are gangsta!
And doesn't everyone make themselves five entrees while at Souplantation?
