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Frumpy Mom: This trip is just for Mama Bear

March 25, 2026

I’m going to Costa Rica in a few weeks. This will be my third trip there, and I was supposed to be bringing the whole family. I first planned this vacation years ago, after I had taken the whole gang to Maui.

That was the only time I’ve ever been to Hawaii, which probably sounds ludicrous to you considering how much I travel. Hawaii is practically a staycation to a certain type of middle-class Southern Californian like me.

But I lived on an Air Force base in Puerto Rico for three years when I was in high school, while my father was stationed there. It was paradise. So I figured I’d done enough tropical islands to meet my lifetime quota, and I wanted to see something else. Like Gothic cathedrals and Angkor Wat.

When my kids were younger, I’d quiz them about where they wanted to go on vacation and usually ignored their replies. Because the answer was always “Maui.” See, they went to a middle-class school where the teachers would ask after a break, “So, kids, where did you go on your time off?”

And every kid in the room would tick off the same reply. Maui. Maui Maui. Maui. And my kids would look up, embarrassed to be different, and mutter in a small, quiet voice, “Thailand.”

This experience gave them a deep unquenchable yearning to go to Maui, but that’s an expensive destination for a single mom. So this yearning remained unsatisfied until just after the horrific 2023 fires there, when Hawaiian Airlines dropped its prices to $123 roundtrip, obviously to encourage people to return.

I immediately snatched up the offer, knowing that the entire island hadn’t been burnt to a crisp, just one portion. Admittedly, I’d probably take a trip to the fires of Hades, if the airfare were cheap enough.

So we all went to Maui and had a great time. The kids long-held desire had been sated. Afterward, I asked them if they wanted to go back.

“We like Maui, but we like Costa Rica better,” they told me. “Because of the animals.” We never saw any land mammals at all in Maui, although we had a thrilling encounter with humpback whales. Whereas you can’t help seeing wild animals in Costa Rica as soon as you get out of the developed areas. Howler monkeys wake you up in the morning, for example. Sloths live in the trees outside your bungalow.

Since it’s the same length of plane ride — around five hours — and costs roughly the same, I agreed that we could go back to Costa Rica for our next family trip, even though the kids also demanded that we go back to the same town we’d already visited twice — Puerto Viejo de Talamanca — which is on the Caribbean coast.

(Photo by Marla Jo FIsher/SCNG)

Curly Girl with an orphaned sloth adopted by a member of the Bri Bri indigenous tribe in Costa Rica. 2016. (Photo by Marla Jo FIsher/SCNG)

Now, Puerto Viejo is a terrible, terrible place and you should never, ever go there. Got it? Do not go there. You’ll hate it.

It’s the opposite of the most popular beach areas, meaning there are no chain hotels or restaurants, no high rise developments or familiar stores. It’s just a funky Caribbean town with a Rastafarian vibe settled originally by Jamaicans. In fact, it feels like being in Jamaica. We like it, but we’re weird. You won’t like it. So stay away.

Anyway, I got the trip all set up and then my newly married daughter, Curly Girl, announced that she was pregnant. And she was due the week we were supposed to travel. So, the trip was postponed. Late last year, I decided it was time to reschedule everything. So we decided to go in April 2026. And it was just me, a poorly paid journalist, bringing all the kids and grandkids and some significant others. I was willing to somehow scrounge up the money.

And then Curly Girl complained that she was going to have to miss two weekends of work. She’s a bartender at a posh Indian casino resort in upstate Washington. I pointed out that she’d had six months to figure that one out, and she hadn’t done it. Then I got into a dispute with her brother. The end result was I just decided to cancel the whole trip and save a Mt. Everest-sized pile of money. This was depressing.

And then I realized, “Wait. I don’t have to cancel. I’m not mad at myself. I could go with one of my friends.” So, the upshot is that I am going with a friend, one who’d rather sit by the ocean and read books all day than go on a hot, sweaty hike. Exactly my perfect companion. And she’s paying for herself. Yay.

Yes, I would still like to take the family back to Costa Rica. But not this time. This trip is for Mama.

Frumpy Mom: This trip is just for Mama Bear Orange County Register

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Frumpy Mom: This trip is just for Mama Bear

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