When I think of the great vacations of my life, several immediately come to mind:
(1) One week with my husband in Hawaii for our babymoon. We went to the beach every day, we snorkled whenever we wanted to, and we even took a helicopter tour of the island. It was perfectly relaxing and beautiful.
(2) Two and a half weeks with my husband in South Africa. We spent three nights in Kruger, we visited Johannesburg, we visited Cape Town, we toured wine country, and we went shark diving (as chance would have it, with Anderson Cooper and his Planet in Peril crew).
(3) One week with my husband in Mexico for our [second] honeymoon. We went to the beach, we drank pina coladas and ate fish tacos, and I went scuba diving for the first time in my life. I even [reluctantly] swam by a [nurse] shark.
(4) A long weekend with my husband in Quebec City for our mini-moon [i.e., first honeymoon]. He surprised me and brought me to the most beautiful hotel in the city. We walked around the old city during the day, we ate delicious food and drank delicious wine at night, and we accidentally referred to flies as handkerchiefs in French.
(5) Two weeks with my husband, who was then my fiance, in the Pacific Northwest. We hiked, camped, went out in Seattle, went out in Portland (sort of), and toured wine country. It was an amazing time.
(6) One week with my husband, who was then my boyfriend, in Brazil. We were there for a wedding. It was a wonderful, week long party.
I just sent my secretary an email letting her know that I would be taking an unpaid leave to extend my maternity leave until March 1. The final sentence of her response was that I should enjoy the last month of my vacation. She does not have children.