Goodtimeswithjess is still here! Wherever here is. She has no time to blog, but she’ll get you a trip proposal ASAP

Posted on October 31, 2026 by Good Times with Jess

This blog is still alive! It hasn’t sputtered into complete oblivion just yet.

I missed the entire month of September and I’m VERY close to missing the entire month of October. The good news is it’s because I GOT SO BUSY with work! Not to be mistaken with wiping-my-kid’s-butt work, travel work.

I’m less busy with kid work because who has the time? RB turned 7 and 7-year-old butts can fend for themselves, despite protestations to the contrary.

I kept thinking I was coming up for air and then more trips appeared. Plus tag on two weeks of travel to Morocco and the Bahamas (for work), meant the only writing I was doing was email.

It’s been so long, my blog suggested I re-blog. No thank you.

I am at a loss on how to proceed. Do I tell you about Morocco?

The hotel that hosted me, put me in a gorgeous family suite with a private pool. BB was so mad I was going there without my family she made me a paper version so I could relax by my pool with my two-dimensional, perfectly behaved children.

Then I was home for a minute to do my laundry, put it back in my suitcase and off to the Bahamas.

I regret I had zero time for water slides. I met with one travel supplier who went to the water park during our lunch break. He recommended I do the same.

I don’t know how to go to a water park and return to business casual with presentable hair in 1.75 hours.

In the middle of all that, BB started middle school. BIG relief, I’ve never seen her come home from school happier. There’s dancing, singing and self-motivation to do her homework.

BB’s only issue was when I left. Twice. So many tears. So many prolonged hugs. When I leave for two weeks in February it may be the end of her.

On the other hand, when I popped into RB’s room to say goodbye before I left on my second trip, she gave me a perfunctory hug and said,

“Bye! I love you! I hope your plane doesn’t crash!”

Thanks. ME TOO.

RB turned 7! We were very tempted to repeat an NYC weekend again, but she desperately wanted a trampoline party with 30 of her closest friends, so that’s what we did. AND I scored VIP meet & greet tickets to the show you may or may not have heard of – Wild Kratts!

It’s RB’s all-time favorite show and Captain may be leading a double life as a Martin Kratt doppelgänger:

Then it was on to Halloween! RB needed a jack-o-lantern over a week ago for her school’s pumpkin stroll. It’s the year of the cat for us, so she declared her desire for a cat jack-o-lantern and went to bed.

Captain is a MASTER pumpkin carver. I don’t know when the awards happen for that, but maybe he’ll get some extra candy for his trouble. First he carved this:

RB saw it in the morning and BURST into tears,

“It’s not FUNNY Halloween! It’s SPOOKY Halloween!!!”

So the next night, I went to bed and Captain tried again:

He won!

Now today is the real deal, so last night he was at it again. I tried to say RB does NOT need a third cat jack-o-lantern. No one else agreed with me. We all went to bed and Captain accomplished:

The only thing challenging our obsession with cats is BB’s obsession with swimming and when you carve FOUR jack-o-lantern masterpieces, you can do it all.

Back to work. I must keep working. I hope to talk to you before 2027, but if you need to hear from me sooner, send me a new-trip inquiry!

Cowboy themed Halloween party for RB. I joined the 5% of dressed-up adults, because when else am I going to wear the giant unicorn onesie in my closet?

Throwback to Halloween 2020!

He thinks he can do whatever he wants because he’s related to the Backstreet Boys.

Sardinia, Sardegna, what a wonderful two weeks!

Posted on October 9, 2025 by Good Times with Jess

I’m home! Captain said it felt like I’d been gone a month.

It took me a full week to readjust.

I mostly readjusted the minute I made physical contact with my children, but it took me this long to sit down and write a blog post.

Two-hour pasta lunches with a bottomless glass of wine followed by three-hour dinners with a bottomless glass of wine is really not a sustainable lifestyle. But it was an amazing way to spend a couple weeks!

Sardinia is the second largest island in the Mediterranean just south of Corsica and west of Italy. It has a gorgeous coastline, stunning mountains, long lifespans and an ancient heritage of amazing food unique from mainland Italy.

I explored Sardinia with travel designers from Italy, Venezuela, Mexico, Argentina, Portugal, Germany, Ukraine, Russia and one from twenty minutes up the road from me.

Those countries, all in the same group, may make you pause. I did. They’re all amazing people and I was lucky to spend time with them.

I also feel lucky that I was well received. Americans are not the most beloved right now.

And I thought for sure I’d be the only Jew of the group “working” on Rosh Hashanah. I was nowhere near my temple, but I did join the virtual children’s service for a minute between meetings.

Lo and behold I was lucky enough to find out that my new friend from Venezuela is Jewish! A Jewish Venezuelan is not a combo I was expecting.

I was distracted by my news feed and our politics that lack basic human decency. It feels like everything is spiraling downwards. I kept trying to refocus: my bowl of pasta, my delicious espresso, the sexiest cooking class I’ve ever taken.

I mean that. I was looking decidedly not sexy, but our teacher, she was another story. It’s called pasta therapy:

At home I cook occasionally because we need to eat and because if I try to serve one more peanut butter and jelly sandwich there may be a mutiny.

But for me, being sexy and cooking never happen simultaneously.

As I fumbled through making fancy pasta shapes, I was definitely in the moment, so it may deserve its therapeutic claims.

Last year I traveled to Croatia for work, carry-on only. BIG MISTAKE. I left home without an ounce of room in my suitcase. I received so much free swag and people at home were waiting for things and I had NO ROOM.

I vowed not to make that mistake again. For Sardinia I checked a small bag and also had a small carry-on. Both were half empty in anticipation of lots of free goodies.

Clothing-wise I still only packed as much as I would’ve if I’d been traveling carry-on only. For two weeks I planned to rewear everything twice if not three times. As I am always happy to do.

If I can enjoy a month-and-a-half overland safari alternating between two shirts, then the amount of clothing I took for Sardinia was really overkill.

But it quickly felt inadequate. My previous travel style collided with my current travel style.

Not only were my new friends wearing new outfits everyday, they had a nice outfit for daytime touring (which I would’ve called nice enough for dinner) and then an even nicer outfit for our lovely dinners.

I was taking my daytime outfit, adding a sweater and earrings and calling it my new dinner outfit. I kept wishing I had taken a medium-sized suitcase.

After a phone call home bemoaning all my decisions, I headed to dinner wearing my favorite dress for the third time. One of the women exclaimed,

“I love your dress! Is it new?”

No! Not only is it four years old, but I’ve already worn it for two other dinners this week! Proof that no one is paying as much attention as you think they are and maybe my suitcase choice was ok after all.

I left home with an idea that I’d like to buy a new dress if at all possible. As the week went on, it started to seem like it might not be possible.

The days were relaxing in the sense that I was walking around beautiful Sardinia, eating amazing food and talking to wonderful people, but there was very little free time with which to shop.

Near the end of the first week, we checked into what would be my favorite resort of the trip. As we walked into the lobby, in the store window, there was a beachy, floor-length, pink and white dress that was calling to me.

I said “I’ll be back if I can!”

I got a free minute and I dashed into the store. I peered around. Nothing resembled that dress. I peered back out at the window and asked the shopkeeper,

“Is that dress for this store?”

“Yes! It’s our last one and it’s your size.”

How does she know my size? I give her a skeptical look. She adds,

“It’s a medium.”

Ooooh she’s good.

Next thing I know, the mannequin’s arms are on the ground and the dress is in my hands. As I began the checkout process the kind woman asks me,

“Do you have Global Blue?”

“What?” I have no idea what she’s talking about.

“For your tax refund?”

“Tax refund?”

She looks perplexed and I feel like an idiot.

So now I know that it’s possible to get a tax refund on purchases over a certain amount. In Italy it’s over €70. Every country has a different amount.

The shopkeeper is so incredulous she asks me,

“How come you’ve never used Global Blue before?”

“I guess I haven’t done that much shopping.”

The truth is I haven’t done much shopping at the price point required to receive refunds.

The woman shakes her head and admonishes me,

“Italy is very good for shopping.”

“Yes, I see that.”

My suitcase fit all my wonderful freebies: wine, liqueur, jewelry, reindeer-skin luggage tags, candles, chocolates, bags and I bought two stuffed flamingos for my children. Sardinia is known for its flamingos. I did not know this.

My exploration of Sardinia was followed by an intense few days of one-on-one meetings with luxury travel suppliers from all over the world. It was simultaneously exhausting and energizing. There are endless, amazing adventures to add to your list!

Now I’m home, I caught my breath, I emptied my small suitcase and I am packing it back up.

We’re off to NYC for RB’s 6th birthday!

RB’s interpretation of ready for New York City. This is a very large suitcase relative to her doll’s size, so it is safe to say her doll overpacked.

T-minus three days until I ditch my family for TWO weeks

Posted on September 11, 2025 by Good Times with Jess

The owner of my agency recommends at least one travel conference a year. I was accepted to one in Sardinia.

Before and after the conference, there are familiarization trips. I was accepted to one of those, too! Once I’m there, I might as well scope out the whole island.

I was worried that being gone for two weeks would be too long. Captain offered,

“How could you not do it?”

That’s right! How could I not? And without a second thought I confirmed everything.

Now that I see the calendar for the next two weeks, please wish my family luck.

Between my two children there are: 6 swim practices, 2 swim lessons, 2 artistic swim classes, 6 soccer practices, 4 Hebrew school classes, 2 drama kids classes, 2 curriculum nights, one day of school pictures, and a side of Rosh Hashanah.

Putting that in all in one sentence may have been a mistake. We sound like crazy people.

I swear it feels more manageable on a day-to-day basis. Although I’ve only been doing it for one week, and now it’s someone else’s problem.

Monday night I was headed into Boston for work, and Captain, BB, and RB were headed to RB’s soccer practice. I said,

“Don’t forget you need a soccer ball and two chairs.”

They left with three chairs and no soccer ball.

So that’s how I anticipate the next couple weeks may go.

The other morning I was sitting on the couch with my coffee, a hotel website open in front of me. RB snuggled up, saw my computer, and said,

“Again?!? I thought you retired.”

Just getting started.

After this Sardinia trip, I was accepted for a ski trip in Austria and Switzerland. Which brings me back to our recent visit to the ski store.

Thirteen years ago I met Captain skiing. We skied as much as possible. I invested in new ski boots. They were comfortable, performed well, and were a pretty white-turquoise color.

Ten years ago I got pregnant with BB. My feet grew. I went from a size 10 to a size 11. My feet never went back.

I needed all new shoes. Not the worst thing in the world, but I was loathe to spend $500 on a new pair of ski boots. Especially when at this point, with a new baby, I was lucky if I were skiing four days a season.

Each year when I squeezed my feet into my too-small boots, Captain would ask,

“Are you going to get a new pair?”

“Maybe, but doesn’t seem worth it.”

Then another pregnancy, so no skiing, then COVID, so more no skiing. Then back to skiing and good grief the boots are still SO SMALL. Maybe it’s time for new boots?

Nope. Last year we decided to save all of our money for the Galápagos and did not go skiing.

Skipping a year made me realize how much I miss skiing! Now here comes the 25/26 season, and we already have 14 ski days on the books. It is time for new boots.

At the end of August I booked two separate appointments: a daytime rental appointment for the kiddos and an evening, boot fitting for myself. I imagined returning to the store childless to try on boots in peace.

We got the kids sorted out. The ski-store guy asked me,

“You’re looking for new boots, too, right?”

“Yes, but I was thinking I’d come back later without them.” I waved my hand in the general direction of my children clomping around the store. The guy said,

“They seem fine. Do you want to try some on?”

“If you say so.”

My children, still in their ski boots, proceeded to stomp laps, then it was quiet, and all I could see was BB’s head popping up in the middle of one of those spinning, clothes racks.

If this is the sales guy’s idea of “they’re fine,” then so be it.

He measured my foot, and looked at the sizing on my old boot. He was shocked,

“They’re so small for you! How could you ski in these?!”

“I don’t know.”

As my toes luxuriated in the spaciousness of the new boots, I looked at my color options: black, gray, and maroon. I asked,

“Are there other color options?”

“I’m afraid not. You’re into unisex sizing now.”

Apparently white-turquoise is not a unisex color.

I settled for comfort and performance in a unisex black.

As I flexed into my new boots, the sales guy noticed my quads and said,

“What do you do to work out?”

“I walk.”

“You’re in this shape from just walking?”

At which point both kids pipe up from under the snowpants rack,

“She walks with a weighted vest!”

I do now.

I walk with a weighted vest, wear unisex ski boots, and explore Sardinia for two weeks without my family.

I’m some new version of the old me.

Except I’m going to check a bag, which is anathema to my being.

After a two-week sabbatical, the least I can do for my family is make sure my suitcase has enough room to bring home all the free, travel tchotchkes I accumulate at the conference.

They can thank me later.