After being away for ten day, we slowly turned into our driveway and noticed that something looked wrong. What was different? Our house was still standing.
Then we noticed it: our mailbox was gone. Not just hanging at an odd angle as if it had one of its periodic close encounters with a snowplow or a car driven by a teenager who is good at hitting the gas but bad at holding the steering wheel. Completely decimated. The mailbox itself was nowhere in site, and the post was lying on the ground, snapped into multiple pieces.
Readers who grew up like me in towns where the mailperson brought the mail to your door may have a mistaken image. Least you imagine a series of cars careening off of the walls of our house, let me clarify that all of the mailboxes on our "rural route" are on one side, which is, or I should say was located across the street from us.
As we walked up to our house, we saw that our mailbox had been placed on our stoop. About an hour later our neighbor came over and explained that our mailbox had been hit by a car. Fortunately her husband got the license plate number.
The Big Giraffe went over to the police station later to deliver his report to a very understanding police officer, who was already familiar with what had happened. Why? Because he was the same police officer who had responded to the accident. Um...accident? When did the police get involved?
It turns out a woman turned around in our driveway and pulled out, while another car was driving down our street. Whether she didn't look before pulling out or he was speeding, he had to swerve to avoid a collision with her car. He instead ran over our mailbox, thick wood post and all. Not surprisingly, his car was damaged in the process.
In the meantime we have no mailbox which means we have no mail. Well...almost no mail. Our mailwoman did the mail on Monday because she saw that it contained the Big Giraffe's passport. However, she has not parked her car in the middle of her route, crossed the street, and marched down the snowy driveway since then. We need to not only get a new mailbox and post, but we need a 5 gallon bucket and sand to hold the post until the ground thaws enough to truly secure it. Fortunately the guy's insurance is paying for the mailbox, post, bucket, sand, and handyman installation. Don't laugh! We're not too handy around here. We had to get the handyman to install our last mailbox this time last year. I have no interest in digging a giant hole in the ground, and I can almost guarantee that the Big Giraffe doesn't either.
It's funny how our boring old mailbox is such a landmark. Neighbors I haven't seen in ages have stopped me to ask what happened to it. Someone named Balex Melliot may have even driven by my house by mistake. I mean it's not like I she hasn't been driving to our house for the last 8.5 years or anything!
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: When something happens to your property when you're away, the story will never make sense no matter how many times it's told to you.
Well, better that the other car hit the mailbox and not each other, right? That would be a pleasant surprise, to find out that there was a horrible crash in your driveway...
Our kids have never spent a night away from us. Let me re-phrase that. We've never spent a night away from our kids. Notice the emphasis is on the Big Giraffe and me!
When our older son (OS) was younger, he did spend a night here and there with a friend which was wonderful. My mom also came to stay with him a couple times so that we could get away for the weekend. However, once we had two, it just became a lot more complicated, particularly because our friends all had at least two kids.
About a year ago I was talking with a friend who also has two kids and an out-of-state family about what he does to get away with his wife. He said that whenever his family comes to visit, they stay for at least a week so that there's plenty of time to spend with him and his wife and also time so that they can get away and the family can spend time with the kids. When he first told me about it, I thought it was a little..well...rude. I mean his family is presumably coming to see him. He pointed out that his family doesn't see it like that since they enjoy spending time alone with his kids.
I discussed this with a couple of other people that I know with out-of-state families and they said that they do the same thing. Who knew! Apparently not me. They also often extend their trips to visit family by a night or two so that they can stay in a hotel over by their families while their families get stuck babysitting the kids spend quality time with their kids.
I ran this by some family members and they seemed to really like this idea. The Big Giraffe and I were excited. We would finally be able to get away even if it is only to some dinky hotel in Worcester or the Chicago suburbs. However, just like with the best of plans, it just hasn't worked out. I think the longest we've had family visit us has been a couple of nights, and our visits to them do not last any longer. When that visiting time is jam packed with activities, there is little extra time available. It also becomes an added expense when we're already paying to travel to the Midwest at the same time.
We've had a few friends volunteer to watch our kids for us recently. For my birthday I told the Big Giraffe that what I would really like is to be able to go away for a night even if we stay here. There's a lot to be said for getting to stay in your quiet house. There were many emails between the Big Giraffe and my friends, a rumor of a few fights between the Big Giraffe and me, and we now have an official get away weekend! Sally HP will be watching the boys one night and my triathlon training buddy will be taking the boys the next night. Some family friends have also volunteered to watch the boys for...gasp here...several nights in a row so we can go away for our ten year anniversary!
Back in November my aunt had offered to let us use her time share in New York City for the New Year. Not the whole year, silly, from December 30th - January 2 at the Manhattan Club which is located just north of Times Square! This was right around when Merlin got sick though and so while we really appreciated the offer, we couldn't accept it. A little while after he passed away though I called her to see if it was still available. Those of you who know me in real life, particularly those of you who actually saw me this week, will not be surprised to learn that it was.
We got there on Wednesday, and the boys were beyond excited. After we checked into the hotel, we met Suzanne, her husband and another friend for dinner. After rejecting the opportunity to wait an hour for two disparate tables at a pricey but excellent diner called the Brooklyn Diner, we went to a different diner. I took great delight in eating gyros since I enjoy them so much and they're hard to find around here. Afterward we went back to the hotel where I fell asleep; the boys did continue to stay up incredibly late. I think I had a slight fever that night, as I was coming down with a cold and sore throat.
The next day we made it to the Brooklyn Diner for breakfast. As expected, the food was great, but it ended up being $100 for the four of us! I do have to say that we had been warned that the portions were huge and that we should have the boys share. The upside is that we got three meals worth of food and didn't have to buy breakfast the next day! The Big Giraffe and I traded off working out at the otherwise empty gym and then took the boys to FAO Schwartz. Being New Year's Eve and being FAO Schwartz made it super crowded. The boys were overwhelmed. We had told them they could each get a small souvenir. It was all just too much for YS and he couldn't make a selection. We told him he could get something at the M&M store.
After getting a snack, we took the boys to Rockerfeller Center to see the Christmas Tree. The Big Giraffe and I were quite taken with it. The boys were quite taken with the pigeons eating soft pretzels and couldn't have cared less about the tree. In fact when the Big Giraffe was trying to take their picture in front of the tree OS wanted to know if he could get his picture taken with the pigeons instead! Sadly though I said no and am now regretting it.
We watched the ice skaters at Rockerfeller Center and even saw a marriage proposal there (or two brazen people willing to lie to get the ice to themselves)! Then we headed off to the M&M store. Given that it was just past 4pm on New Year's Eve in an area filled with a captive audience of cold pedestrians who had almost eight hours to wait for the ball to drop, we were surprised to find the store closed. YS was pretty upset, until we stopped in a dinky souvenir shop where he fell in love with a stuffed animal frog. It was actually nicer than a collection of stuffed animals, including a frog, sewed to a toy boat that we had passed at FAO Schwartz, and cost a lot less so everyone was happy.
Later on that evening we got together with Suzanne and hubby and 3 other friends for a New Year's Eve dinner at a Turkish restaurant. Those of you who know me will not be surprised that I ordered gyros again! The food was great, and the conversation was even better. The boys both enjoyed the food and drawing pictures on multi-colored post-it notes. They became ecstatic on our way out when a couple gave OS a really nice velvet hat with streamers that lit up and YS a light up necklace/noise maker. We then headed back to the hotel. Three of us fell asleep just before midnight. The Big Giraffe made a literal eleventh hour (and forty-five minute) attempt to walk outside of the hotel in sight of the ball, but could not get an elevator. He watched the ball drop on TV in the room, same as he used to when he lived in New York City.
After breakfast the next morning, we headed to the Museum of Natural History, which also happens to be the Big Giraffe's favorite museum in the world. All I can say is that it is one large museum! We were there for several hours and probably only saw about a third of it. The boys had a great time, particularly with the taxidermy, ocean section, and dinosaurs. I do wish I had listened to myself and left earlier instead of trying to milk their attention span for all that it was worth. Our departure included temper tantrums.
Suzanne's hubby and YS made deep dish pizzas for everyone while Suzanne and I went to an Israeli cafe to get real hot chocolates with actual melted pieces of chocolate added to steamed milk The boys watched Disney's cartoon Robin Hood...three times over the evening. During the third showing after dinner, a few of us went to Magnolia Bakery to pickup cupcakes. It shouldn't come as any surprise that I was up for a large part of the night with horrible stomach pains.
After a final breakfast with friends, we took the boys to see a gingerbread house exhibit made up of creations from several famous bakeries. I am sure they were beautiful when first crafted, but they did not stand up well to a couple of weeks in a hot and dry hotel lobby. I would even go so far as to say that the one the boys made last week with a gingerbread house kit from last year looked better. Then we hit the road.
OS is named after a friend of ours who passed away at 30 from colon cancer. We had originally planned on driving to northwest New Jersey on our way home to visit his parents. After hearing about an alleged blizzard hitting New England, the Big Giraffe conducted an extensive analysis of weather.com's hourly predictions throughout our route. He concluded that the trip to New Jersey should be fine and that the trip home was predicted to be equally bad no matter when and from where we attempted it. If weather.com was right, we could stop at a hotel on the route for one more night. I had planned ahead and brought an extra change of clothing for both boys and me.
We not only had a great time in New Jersey (hey, stop snickering, I lived in the Garden State for two years and I like it) but we found a gap between internet and reality. Yes, there was a lot of wind, but there was no traffic and no snow in New Jersey, New York, or Connecticut. Wind blew a light dusting of already fallen snow into the windshield a few times in the last half hour as we approached home, and there was slush coating the road in the two minutes from leaving the highway through pulling into our snowy but passable driveway. Maybe it was part of their New Year's resolution, but the cats didn't even pee on our beds when we were gone!
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Bringing extra clothes is a great way to ensure an easy road trip, and choosing New York City and seeing friends is a great way to ensure fun at the destination.
Did we really light the last candles of Hannukah tonight? Is Christmas really next week? The holidays seemed to pop out of nowhere...as they do every year. Seriously have you ever had a year where you felt completely prepared and unrushed?
Our younger son (YS) finished his last day of school before break complete with a holiday party with terrible looking hair. Somehow I never got around to getting his hair cut and now and forever more all our photos will have a 3 year old Rod Stewart in them. Or perhaps they would if I had remembered to bring my camera. Mom of the Year over here. Fortunately one of the other moms took pictures for me.
We participated in a class gift for his teachers. Alright really I organized it because it was a lot easier for me to organize one and get them a gift card to get something that they will hopefully like than to try and come up with individual gifts that they would like. The room parents in my older son's class organized a class gift as well. Phew! That's all taken care of. Or is it?
I forgot about my nemisis: the bus driver. Before you assert that nemesis may be a strong word, let's review the history:
She was annoyed that I didn't know where OS was on the first day of school when he had been put on the wrong bus at school
She decided that he was no longer riding the bus home on Fridays because I picked him up for school for one Friday doctor's appointment
She was annoyed that I didn't know where OS was on the second occasion when he had been put on the wrong bus at school
She shot me dirty looks and muttered under her breath on the day that I went to school right after OS was picked up to do some volunteer work and arrived just behind the bus
She has been plain snarky several times
In all fairness, we haven't had an episode of snarkiness recently. In fact, lately she and I have gotten around remarkably well. She even asked me onto the bus last week with some questions about a new pickup who was supposed to be added to the route. Perhaps one day we will get together for coffee.
This made me start to think about the etiquette around gifts and bus drivers. Do I need to get her anything? I posed the question my moms group and people responded with suggestions of homemade baked goods which would be great if I were planning on doing any baking. That's not likely to happen. We made ginger bread cookies last week during a snow day and that for me was like the Mt. Everst of baking. It took hours by the time the cookies were made, cut, baked, decorated and the frosting dried. It has to be a pretty special person for me to do any baking. Plus with my luck she would get diarehhea from the cookies, and it would worsen our relationship. I think we will be going with a $5 gift card to Dunkin Donuts.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Don't miss the bus and don't forget the bus driver.
I have always considered the car to be my friend. When I was growing up, many of my relatives lived anywhere from 2-4 hours away, one of our favorite summer vacation spots was an 8 hour drive, and even heading into Chicago was at around an hour from our North Shore suburb. The Big Giraffe apparently also spent many a day riding in the car. It never seemed like a big deal. I find many of my New England friends have a different perspective as to what makes something a long distance. No doubt the pervasive construction and the inability to "get theah from heah" stretch the miles. However, I know many people who consider a drive of two towns to be a roadtrip and others who consider family members far away if it takes more than a half hour to get to them.
Fortunately, our boys seem to have either inherited the roadtrip gene or gotten used to being strapped into a carseat. For the most part always been good in the car. Hmm...on second thought...Well, we did have a stint where I drove like a crazy lady by pulling over several times while driving on Route 9 because I had to repeatedly administer timeouts to stop OS from performing something called "Mommycise." Since that stage ended, things have been pretty peaceful. We have never really heard "Are we there yet?" In fact we prided ourselves on the fact that we could drive several hours in a row without DVDs or special kid CDs.
Recently though we've noticed a difference. To be specific, OS has started complaining about how long a trip is taking...after only twenty or thirty minutes. I couldn't figure out what the big deal is. Then I realized what the Big Giraffe and I were witnessing: the birth of a New Englander!
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: The length of the drive is based on the perception of the passenger.
My girls complain about time spent in a car as well. In fact the other day, Meenie was telling me her trip from our home to the corn maze was like 2 hours long (it was, in reality 15 minutes). Einey piped in with, yeah well my trip to the ecotarium took alllll day (which you know, 30 minutes, all day, same thing, right?). I guess maybe that's our problem? They are born and bred nth generation New Englanders. It's in their blood.
We took our kids to Disney World a few years ago for a family reunion. They loved it and we had a fabulous time. Tonight they also had an experience on par with Disney World. My friend was supposed to sit for the kids tonight because I had School Council and the Big Giraffe had a soccer coach certification class. However, she got stuck in traffic. The boys were already in the their PJs when she suggested that she could meet me at the school so that I wouldn't be late for the meeting. The boys were thrilled to be able to go to school in their PJs at night. What could top that? How about me switching cars with her so that we didn't have to deal with moving the boys and moving the carseats.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: There are actually times where children are easy to please.
Our trip with the boys was a success. Of course success was defined loosely as surviving the vacation with minimal hours of therapy needed later. In all seriousness though the boys did really well both on the airplane rides and in the car portion of the trip. I say "rides" because it turns out our direct flight was not so direct after all. It did a surprise stop in Philly that was not listed on our itinerary (or apparently anyone else's). Since we flew with a girls soccer team, we heard the complaints quite clearly from a dozen teenage girls and their coaches. At least we didn't have to deplane during our stop.
I knew it was going to be a good trip as soon as we left the Columbus Airport to drive into Chicago and I saw a sign. The skies parted and there it was clear as day..."Waffle House". Oh yeah, baby! We don't have those out here in MA. In fact we also don't have them in Chicago. When we went to my BIL's wedding in KY a few years ago, the Big Giraffe actually went on the Waffle House website and plugged in our route to find out where the Waffle Houses would be. I had never been to one before, but after hearing him and other friends rave about it, I really wanted to try one.
After civically performing my quality assurance test to ensure that Waffle House in Columbus was adequate, we drove into a whirl of really fun events, including the rehearsal dinner, the post-rehearsal party at a local amusement park and arcade, the actual wedding, and the subsequent family picnic. We even had fun in between the main events. For example, we took the kids to see Ice Age 3 with relatives who had three kids. We originally had expected a larger posse, when we planned to see Up. Once it turned out that the only conveniently scheduled movie was Ice Age 3, the overwhelming majority suddenly had something better to do. Coincidentally, none of them had children. I find that highly suspicious.
After the picnic, we went to visit my BIL and SIL. We all had a fabulous time. The boys were very impressed by their inground swimming pool. Unfortunately my dreams of being a rock star were dashed when they introduced us to Rock Band on the Wii. I totally stunk at it. I'll need to meet with a career counselor in the next week or so to discuss this.
As much as I enjoyed the vacation, there has been a more serious turn in life. A few days after coming back I learned that my mom is in the hospital with hemolytic anemia. I flew out for a few days to visit her and just came back yesterday. My thoughts remain with her.
A. Eliott's Lesson Learned: Success criteria for a family vacation are surviving the vacation with minimal hours of therapy needed later.
I'm sorry to hear about your mom? Which treatment does she need for that? Is she going to be ok? I hope she feels better soon!
I don't get rehearsal dinners? What's there to rehearse? the eating? the sitting? the serving of plates?
or is it the wedding ceremony that gets rehearsed? What fun is that to take all spontanity out of it? Who cares if someone walks a bit faster than the other or comes in the wrong order? (sorry my European opinion I guess...I'm always so confused when I read/hear/see stuff about rehearsing activities before a wedding).
A while ago a friend asked me to drive her family to the airport because parking and car services are pretty expensive. I was happy to help, except for two things. First, the drive would coincide with my older son's (OS) preschool pickup. Second, I couldn't fit my friend's family, my younger son (YS), and me in my car at the same time. Size soon became the least of my car problems.
Last week as I was driving my boys to my older son's (OS) Tae Kwon Do lesson, it sounded like a group of preschoolers were planning the drums in my car. OS and my younger son (YS) were actually innocent. I know! I couldn't believe it myself. Not surprisingly, cars aren't supposed to make that noise. Unfortunately, the replacement axle wasn't in stock, and it needed to be ordered. I was told my car was safe to drive as long as it wasn't icy or snowing out. Hmm...call me crazy, but I think we may have just had the teensiest tiniest weather incident out here...so teenie that a state of emergency was declared and the National Guard was called out! That effectively meant we were down to one car.
At least we had our health...until I found a spot of blood at the foot of the bed where my cats typically sleep. After examining both cats and the dog, I was unsuccessful at finding any wound. I was unsure whether to be relieved or more concerned.
Fortunately, all problems had a solution. My friend suggested that we get around the car capacity issue by taking her car to the airport. I could then drive it back home. She further asked that we keep her car in our driveway to avoid it being towed in the event of another snowstorm. As long as we were going to take car of the car, she further, generously suggested that we borrow her car until my car gets fixed. Meanwhile, OS had been asking for a while to have a playdate with a close friend of his from preschool. Her mother agreed to pick OS up with her daughter. To describe OS as excited would be more of an understatement than my description of our snowstorm.
This morning, I felt things were on the right track. I even slept in a bit, skipped spinning class, and continued to extend the life of my less and less supportive and more and more stinky shoes by using the newly fixed treadmill in our basement. When I got off and pulled off my socks to get into the shower, I found the solution to the last problem. The source of blood at the foot of our bed had been a foot...specifically my foot. I apparently had a blister on my heel that was bleeding but fortunately didn't hurt.
I had a good conversation with my friend on the way to the airport. My friend doesn't need to pay for airport parking. I don't need to rent a car. OS had a fantastic playdate, filled with hugs and play. And I will be giving myself a holiday gift of running shoes this week.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Trivial problems have easy solutions.
The Big Giraffe and I were horrified to learn that my MIL drove from KY to MA without a cell phone. She didn't seem to bothered by i,t but I've watched enough Lifetime Television for Women movies to know that a cell phone on a long trip is a must. Plus statistics finally caught up with me a couple years ago, and I got my first flat tire. I suggested that perhaps we get her a disposable cell phone. That way if she got a flat or had some other sort of car trouble, she could call for help. Then when Stranger Danger approaches her, she can role down the window an 1/8 of an inch and tell him that help is already on the way. Lifetime again.
Last night the Big Giraffe asked me if I could stop by the Verizon store since it's next to the grocery store where I was headed anyway. My older son (OS) and I stopped in there first. An overeager Verizon employee asked how he could help us. I told him we needed a disposable cell phone for my MIL for her road trip back to KY. He had a blank look on his face. "A disposable cell phone," I repeated again impatiently. Another blank look. "You know the type people use to commit crimes in Law and Order and CSI? There's no name listed with the phone so the police have to track the serial number and ask the manufacturer where the lot was sold and then spend a large amount of time viewing security videos from the store to see who the buyer in question actually is?" The employee looked a little scared. He then told me, "You want Walmart. It's called a Tracfone". I'm pretty sure he then went to make sure that the surveillance cameras were working. Lifetime Television for Women's Lesson Learned: Carry a cell phone on long trips.
I have to say - both Husband and I use Tracfone and love it. We don't use them often enough to warrant an actual company. I think we each pay $100 a year for service! And we get service everywhere -even when others with cell phones have no reception.
Thanks, Heather! Whirlwind, I was very impressed with the Tracfone. It was only $10 plus however many minutes we wanted to add. All in all we spent $30 but that's it. There's no other fees.
Hi Goofball, You can add more minutes like we did for my MIL but yeah they do get thrown out particularly if they are used in a crime which is exactly why they are used since there's way to trace anything. Here's a link: http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=throwaway+cell+phone
Last week my husband was out of town. Big deal. People's spouses travel all the time for work. It shouldn't be a problem, right? Except that it was for me. My husband rarely travels. I can count on one hand the number of times he has traveled since we were married. One of those times, I asked my mom to come up from Chicago since my older son (OS) was a baby and the thought of taking care of a newborn on my own for a whole week was just daunting.
I felt like I had to put on a brave face. Sure I can "man" the fort so to speak. It would even be fun. Growing up I remember kids getting to have movie night in pjs with sleeping bags or everyone in the family going through their individual favorite fast food place or a combination of both when a parent was out of town. As a kid, I thought that must be the best treat ever. As a parent whose husband was just out of town for the week I now know what that was about: survival. You don't have to cook dinner, you get peace and quiet when they watch a movie, and you don't have to argue over pjs or bedtime since you need to wear the pjs to watch the movie and the kids conk out during it!
Back to A. Elliot the wimp. Honestly, I'm embarrassed to say it, but the week was pretty hard for me. We normally are not, knock on wood, an accident prone family. However, during this short week, alright let's be honest here, 4 days, OS hurt his thumb in the door and the cats had rumbling tummies. A few nights later there was a lot of laughing and a crash followed by lots of crying. My younger son (YS) fell off his brother's bed after lights out and instantly developed a goose egg with a scratch down the center. This involved another phone call to my dad the doctor although I couldn't get a hold of him because he was at work. My mother who is a nurse told me to make sure that YS wasn't acting drowsy. Seeing as it was already passed YS's bedtime, he was already drowsy to start with so I took to poking him every half hour after I separated the boys and had YS sleep in the guest room for the rest of the evening. In the midst of all of this, I also found out we needed a new roof on our sunroom.
Alright, so a lot going on but by no means a crisis. Like I said before, normally we don't have accidents, much less two in a span of a few days and normally we are well stocked on catfood. Oh yeah, normally we don't have to replace a roof either! It also didn't help that it was hard to get in touch with my husband particularly about issues like the roof. While the Big Giraffe and I have always trusted the other's decisions (I bought our house without the Big Giraffe even seeing it), it doesn't mean that this was my first choice.
I read a really good post by Ms. Chicky a few days ago about the difference between loving your child and liking your child. I could totally relate. I think I would be hard-pressed to find a parent who couldn't. By the end of the week the first day, I was starting to feel just like she had described. Not that I don't feel like that at other times, like perhaps this evening after telling my kids yet again to stop throwing things, screaming, and poking each other. I think though that the combination of solo parenting, complete disruption of gym schedule since I couldn't go first thing in the morning, lack of sleep (did I mention that every night BG was gone at least one of them was up in the middle of the night and that never happens when he's at home) and the fact that I felt like I couldn't even get five minutes to myself during the day without some sort of interruption was just getting to me. Yeah, I know; throw me a pity party. I'm a wimp. I admit it. I was disappointed with myself too.
I do think next time I'll be better prepared. First of all, it won't be so new. Second, I'll make sure I have cat food. On a more serious note, I think I went into it with the expectation that I would just keep things running the way they always do. Except that it wasn't the way things always were for me, and so I was the one who ended up having a hard time adjusting. I get now why the fun things happened during my friends' parents' trips. I think it's a way of saying that the parent at home knows that the routine is going to be disrupted so let's just make it work for us and have fun. Sure, I'll cook some dinners at the beginning like usual, but I'll also do that drive thru night or movie night or better yet find someone in the babysitting co-op to watch my kids for the evening (in other words handle the bedtime rituals) so I can go grab a cup of coffee in a bookstore by myself. I took a 4 hour nap on Saturday while the Big Giraffe and the boys spent some quality time together.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Loss of routine is disruptive.
As someone whose routine is irregular and gets disrupted often (take now- Husband has been on nights for three weeks with three more weeks to go) I can say - you do what you need to do to survive! And the sleeping htne - totally normal. My girls, even though it's common for Husband to work nights every few weeks, always wake when he's on nights. May not be the same kid, but most nights he's working - someone's waking.
Milestones don't always come at the most convenient time. For example, the most convenient time for potty training is during a week when you have nothing requiring you to leave the house, rather than during a weekend when your college friends are getting together in a house they rented somewhere, like say New Hampshire. Unfortunately my younger son (YS) either didn't know or didn't care that we had planned to head up to New Hampshire yesterday for just such an event when he decided he was ready to be potty trained. We didn't want to miss out on the trip because of the potty training, but we knew the trip would take a couple of hours particularly with road construction and stops.
The good news is that there weren't any accidents in the car. Unfortunately, the Big Giraffe got to experience what seemed like every gas station bathroom on the way to the house. As a native New Yorker he rarely has kind words for the New Englanders amongst whom we live during baseball season, but he expressed particularly...articulate views about the barbarism of a people whom he claimed had not flushed a toilet in any public bathroom off of I-495, I-93, or I-89. The boys were less concerned and were quite excited to eat lunch, play, and swim when we got to the house.
We were all surprised to hear one of the little girls at the house announce "The baby is peeing!" Our older son (OS) elaborated by saying, "OS is making footprints!" That's right, YS not only peed on the floor, but he became upset and walked right through the puddle. Before any adult could intervene, the attentive little girl accidentally dropped her brand new, electronic barking black lab stuffed animal in the middle of the puddle. All of the kids except OS were crying. What did OS do? He jumped into the puddle to make a splash!
Fortunately, not only did the stuffed animal clean up nicely after going through the wash and dryer, but it still barked perfectly. The boys also cleaned up well, and there weren't anymore accidents. I think I forgot how important it is to keep reminding a potty training child to go. When OS was first in underwear, I kept setting a timer. Of course I no longer remember how much time I scheduled between each potty visit. It's funny how something that was such a big deal at the time, is a very distant memory just a couple years later.
Big Giraffe's Lesson Learned: The toughest part of learning to use the toilet is apparently learning to flush.
I read this to Husband, and he could not stop laughing about OS jumping in the puddle. And Jen, I agree that the NY thruway would not be better. Nor would the Jersey Turnpike.
Today I wrote a post at New England Mamas about a question I struggle with whenever I'm on vacation: "Where are you from?" As I said in my post, my initial inclination is to make a joke and say from "a galaxy far far away." (Yes, Big Giraffe, that is a joke; I am from Earth.) We've been living in our town for over seven years now. At what point am I considered from MA?
10 years ago A few years ago when my husband and I began dating, an email circulated describing characteristics of people from different regions of the US. I read the Midwestern ones and of course agreed with all the positive ones like we're friendly and say please and thank you. I beamed with pride. Then it mentioned that we end our sentences with prepositions. Where did these people get that from? Perhaps I could put together a group of Midwesterners and those writers could come with. The writer is not the only one to notice that. The preposition issue has always been a pet peeve of the Big Giraffe's. "What do you mean when you ask if I want to 'come with'? Come with a friend or two? Come with an open mind? Come with a wallet?"
The list wasn't too kind to New Yorkers either. Suzanne and I love having our husbands say "Hong Kong" and the name of our high school "New Trier" because it cracks us up. They put the emphasis on the second word.
Other than complaints that we don't know how to pronounce Rs (Pahk the cah in Hahvahd yahd,) I hadn't heard many stereotypes about MA. Some say that people out East in general aren't as friendly as Midwesterners, and of course there's the whole thing about the lack of fluoride in same areas of MA. I was totally surprised by a comment on my post that made me laugh pretty hard. Apparently, people from MA are known to others as "Massholes." Another commenter said "Oh my gosh, when my hubby finally got his permanent residency card and we made the final move back to the U.S. we came through Boston and the border office says to hubby; 'Now mind yourself of all the *cough* Massholes on the road till ya get up New Hampshire way!'"
I think I'll go back to claiming I'm from Chicago. Then again, according to a stereotype I read about Midwesterners I'm supposed to have a sparkling clean house and scrub my floors with a toothbrush. Now who in their right mind does that? I mean honestly that just seems a little nuts. Hmm..maybe I am a Masshole after all!
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: I am going to hang out with the Massholes. Do you want to come with?
I always thought the midwestern thing about being friendly was probably a legend. Then I went somewhere and went running. When I run, I tend to say "Hello" and "Good morning" to everyone with whom I cross paths. (How do you like that prepositional ending avoidal?) Anyway, the last time I was away from the midwest, people looked at me like I was from a different planet when I said good morning. In fact, most of them didn't even make eye contact or say hi back. It was really strange.
So yeah, while most of us (me not included) are conservative hypocrites (well, I might be a liberal hypocrite), at least we'll say hi back when someone says it to us.
You know what's even funnier about this entire thing is my two year old...her daddy is British and has a very strong accent and she lives in Maine. She now has, by default a Maine accent...at TWO! It's cute and funny and endearing all at once.
She can say "Pahk the cah at Hahvahd Yadh" and sound like she comes from generations of born and breed Down 'Eastahs!
I'm busting a gut over this. It is so true, although I don't think Midwesterners who live in large are friendlier than others in less populous regions. When we ran in the Catskills, people definitely waved and said good morning. When I ran in the suburbs of Chicago, I was just glad people didn't run me over.
Yesterday we went to the book signing for Off the Beaten Subway Track in the New York City Fire Department Museum. The boys had a great time. Of course, before and after we were in the museum, we had a 3 hour car drive. After deciding that I did not want to go through yet another car ride where I a) drove like an insane person by pulling over to the side of the road every two minutes for time outs b) contemplated sticking my head out the window for the entire ride or c) a combination of the two, I invested 8 dollars in coloring books with stickers and crayons and a couple of books from the grocery store. I doled them out sparingly during the ride. Much to my surprise, it actually worked...on the way to New York. I feared that the newness factor would have disappeared by the time we returned to the car, potentially causing them to be transformed into projectiles. Sure enough, they did not use any of their gifts on the way home. They fell asleep almost as soon as the Big Giraffe got the car moving. Phew.
The book signing was like a reunion. I got to talk to people I hadn't seen in years, and of course we exchanged ancient anecdotes. I also heard some stories that were not as old, including one from only a week ago about my kids. While we were in the Catskills, Suzanne's husband helped the Big Giraffe put the boys to bed. The boys had already chosen their two stories, and the Big Giraffe was well into The Cat in the Hat. The boys asked to sit on Suzanne's husband's lap for the rest of the stories. It seemed safe enough. The boys were comfortably settled long before cat left the house and the Big Giraffe moved on to the boys' second selection, Amazing You, which to Suzanne's husband's chagrin proved to be a book to introduce toddlers and preschoolers to private parts, what they do, and how special they are. He later told us he had expected a more standard bedtime story like Good Night Moon. On the up side, he learned all about how important it is to take pride in your private parts. What can I say? We are very open in our family. My Older Son (OS), my Younger Son (YS), and the Big Giraffe each picked a story for the trip, and that was what YS wanted to bring.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Before you cozy up with other people's children during bedtime stories, make sure you know what the stories will be.
I told my family that story because of Husband's reaction to the book as a bedtime read, which I find hilarious. Actually, it was the fact that they sat in his lap while the story was being read that made him squirm.
I hope that you didn't think I was criticizing you, as I think being open is the best way to be about these things and it is great that it does not embarrass you or Big Giraffe to talk about body parts. I wish it had been that way when I was growing up.
This has been a fun week! My friend Suzanne and her husband rented a large an enormous house in the Catskill Mountains for a week and invited many of their friends to join them. The Big Giraffe, little giraffes, and I all packed our bags and headed down to their place. After several attempts to find the tape recording of a preschool class that I was sure was hidden under my seat (because there is just no way my two sweet cherubs could have made all that racket), interspersed with serious contemplation about sticking my head out the window for half hour increments, we made it there in one piece (per person).
The house was fantastic. It had a heated pool as well as a hot tub. During the weekend, all twenty of us lounged around the pool while Suzanne's BIL and friend grilled lunch and dinner for everyone. Lest you get the wrong idea when I say "grilled," I don't just mean burgers and hot dogs. Our dinner on Sunday night was a Mexican fiesta, including chicken and mushroom fajitas, and homemade guacamole. There were a couple of other families in and out during the week, but the boys also reveled in a lot of adult attention. After they were in bed, the evenings were filled with a variety of spontaneous but enjoyable activities, including groups of people playing board games and lengthy chats in the hot tub, including a memorable discussion with an ob/gyn friend about...um...interesting gyn topics.
As the week went on, the population of the house dwindled. The Big Giraffe and Suzanne's husband undertook much of the cooking, concocting grilled shrimp and scallops and roasted pork loin interspersed with the standard burger and hot dog fair and of course veggie burgers. They may not have had the flair of Suzanne's BIL, but the eating remained tasty.
A far smaller group of us passed an evening watching Heathers. When we found that the extras on the DVD included the script for the original "darker" ending, we each took on a role or two and gave it a reading. Yes, original ending really was darker than what they filmed. That is one messed up movie!
Although we did spend the first few days lounging around and in the pool, we enjoyed a variety of outings during the week. We visited a somewhat sketchy but clean zoo where we were allowed to hold some of the small animals, traversed the main street of a couple of quaint little towns, hiked a historic trail to see a famous series of carved rocks, and toured a farm where sheep's milk yogurt and cheese are made. We also saw a sheep in labor.
On the last day we went to what has been rated one of the safest water parks in the country. I believe they earned that rating because there is an enormous amount of space between the turns on the water slides. Seriously, the staff waited until an inner tub was all the way down the slide and out of the water before letting the next person take the plunge. It was nice, but on the other hand it took a long time. Fortunately, the park was was not crowded. The safety of the rides reaped another dividend. My younger son (YS) who just turned two was allowed to go on almost all the rides as long as he sat in my lap. While I was initially taken aback by this, not only did he do well, but he loved it. Just like the zoo, the rules seemed a little more lax but everything ended up being just fine.
The house itself was in a very remote area. We didn't even get cell phone reception much less internet access. Oh the horror! After struggling with a few days of internet detox, Suzanne and I went to the parking lot of a cafe with wi-fi after it closed. We would have gladly paid for the access had there been a way to slip some money under the door. Being ultimate geeks (stop smirking, Big Giraffe), the two of us sat in my dark car and whipped out our computers. In the process we scared away some youth who were also hanging out in this dark parking lot. I'm sure they couldn't figure what the heck we were doing. The Big Giraffe and Suzanne's hubby were convinced we were going to get arrested for suspicious activity. The Big Giraffe said that he was glad we had my car with us instead of his. He did promise to bail me out of jail if needed. Fortunately, our internet experience was uneventful.
Because I have completely lost my mind, my triathlon training buddy and I signed up a while ago for a triathlon for tomorrow. Yes, I just got back yesterday. Being aware of the triathlon kept me from eating as much junk as I normally would have. Thank goodness for veggie burgers! That awareness also forced me to workout while on vacation, which was a good thing because I always felt better after exercising. The heated pool made swimming far more comfortable, and running got easier when the town repaved the street in front of the house during the middle of the week. On the other hand, I don't expect the swim tomorrow to be as comfortable as the pool. It will be my first triathlon in a river. In fact, tomorrow will be my first swim ever in a river. Hopefully there won't be any floaters.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: It is possible to survive and even enjoy a week mostly without internet access.
When I had only one child, my diaper bag was larger than the bookbag I used when carrying 4 college science text books, associated lab materials, and a laptop everywhere with me. I thought I would need a suitcase on wheels once I had a second child. Yet I read somewhere that with each child, your diaper bag gets smaller. I have been very surprised to find this to be true. In fact based on the reduction of diaper bag size from my first child to my second, I would be down to a Ziplock snack size bag for my fourth child. (Don't worry, Big Giraffe. I don't plan on confirming this.)
With my older son I always had "spare" everything. Sadly with my second I've found myself asking other moms for spares a few times. I've noticed that the parents who need a diaper from another parent (because let's face it you can't borrow a diaper unless the giver is deranged because why else would they want it back after it is used?) either have newborns and are still trying to get the whole diaper bag thing under control or they have more than one child. Personally, I've begun counting down the days until YS is done with diapers. Seeing as he just turned two, taking my socks off so I can count on both hands and feet doesn't get me to a high enough number.
The boys and I are heading to the Catskills for the week. Hence, I haven't been commenting on blogs as much and am entrusting Blogger to publish this scheduled post. I think back to what it was like when I traveled first of all by myself. Pause for appreciation. Then I think back to what it was like when I packed for one: enough items to go around the world and back twice. I feel myself breaking out in a light layer of sweat just thinking about it. In all honesty I think it is harder with just one because there is no model driving an only child to move to the next level. A second child sees his brother sitting in a regular chair to eat, sleeping in a regular bed and using other every day tools of living. If he can get by doing for a week, you don't need to pack a booster chair or a Pack and Play. Despite, paring the gear down as part of this minimalist approach towards packing, I'm still left with an enormous pile of "stuff". I'm thinking about being generous and giving each person a regular size Ziplock baggie instead of a snack size and telling them to cram in as many pairs of underwear as they can. That could be it for our luggage. Yeah, not a good idea, but then again, Ziplock baggies hardly take up any space...
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: There can be an inverse relationship between the number of children and the amount of gear.
So true. With kid #2, I just throw a diaper and a pack of wipes in my purse and that's it. Half the time I don't even remember to do that, or I remember, but decide to take my chances and leave them out anyway.
Use a space bag and suck out all the air they will lay really thin and all fit in one bag. I notice with kid 2 that my purse got bigger and left the diaper bag in the car. Sippy cup, wipes, and one diaper fit in my now bigger purse.
my husband can never seem to figure out why it takes me so long to pack. Um... that would be because all HE packs is the clothes and toiletries for himself. I have to do it for me, the child, plus all the extra stuff like cameras and sunscreen and whatnot that we ALL use.
I have a pair of princess undies in my purse and a change of pants in the van. And I'm done! I DO carry a bag around a lot in the summer. Basically, sunscreen, bug spray, camera, etc. It also becomes my pool bag and beach bag, so the towels get rolled up and put into it. But that's about it. I actually USE my purse again!!!
I carry a big ergonomically correct purse with lots of pockets and throw a binki and diaper in there. I'm the mom who bums wipes from mothers who still carry diaper bags. :)
I am so looking forward to when I can retire the diaper bag. Every time I try to downgrade to something smaller, an incident occurs that reminds me I really do need the thing.
It's music to my ears to hear the new math of more children = less stuff. I can barely fathom it with one, makes two seem a little more doable.
I always pack sooo much stuff. My purse is big and heavy full with pens, medication (in case I do get a headache, allergy, whatever), pads, cords, all my make-up, letters,post-its, .......). I do carry to work another backpack with a rainjacket and embrella, some apples, a book to read (for traffic jams), etc etc.... apart from my backpack with my workcomputer and workstuff
gosh...don't make me think of what I'll carry around the day I have a child!
Last week was one of the most stressful weeks I've had as a parent. Two trips to the ER, one case of pink eye, one broken washing machine, and one dog on bed rest seem to have aged me by about twenty years. Alright, maybe that last part is a bit of an exaggeration, but I did feel like I hadn't slept in about a week. I had been looking forward to visiting Suzanne in NYC for the weekend, but after last week, I was counting down the hours.
I arrived late on Friday evening, and Suzanne and I stayed up until 2 AM talking. It was so much fun! I haven't done anything like that in a really long time. The next day I slept late. I also haven't done anything like that in a long time. After going for a 6 mile walk around Central park, we went to a wine and chesse party complete with a sommelier. Did I mention that I felt old? I have to say that it's at times like this that I really feel like a "mom".
I was dressed in a pair of jeans that were actually clean. Shocking, right? No trace of sticky little fingers anywhere! I was wearing one of my nicer sweaters. I arrived at the party feeling pretty good, but once I was inside I felt totally underdressed and completely frumpy. The women were all dressed in trendy clothes. I felt old. At one point Suzanne and I were discussing the pointy heels that many of the women wore. I was careful to be pretty quiet lest someone hear me and point out that I was wearing my LL Bean snow boats. Nice. When did I become so old? Yes, it was a 30th birthday party, but I'm only 32. I was already planning on getting my hair cut this week. Now it's a definite.
Despite feeling like "the mom" at the party, I had a fantastic time. Oh, wait I actually was the only mom at the party! I really enjoyed sampling learning about the wine. I actually found three that I really like. There was also the most amazing cake I have ever seen. Suzanne's husband is going to email me a picture, and then I'll post it. Sunday we finally went running. I was pretty pleased with it. Of course I have to admit, I felt a little stiff later. Now tell me again when I became so old?
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Parenting can age you.
Totally. It totally ages you. But I hear you bounce back when they're like 30, or something...
My best story is when I visited my friend & her boyfriend who live on a mega yacht & cruise around the world... I hadn't seen her in a few years. I was wearing a necklace with a charm of two children. She looked at me and said: "You really ARE a mom!" Uhh yep.
I know what you mean! Somewhere along the line I guess we learn that being comfortable, as in not causing ourselves to need orthopedic surgery on our toes, just happens! :o) It's okay, though. You're infinitely wiser, and at 32, you really AIN'T old! Great post!
Feel ya sister. I started getting gray hairs after my first pregnancy and now I'm afraid to even see my natural color grow out. Also frown lines...dammit why can't we look good with them like men do?
42 started Flashback Friday last week. I thought it sounded like a lot of fun, and a post that Sally HP wrote early this week about finding baby items in a bowl of soup while blindfolded at her baby shower reminded me of my own incident with a blindfold in college. Get your mind out of the gutter! So you'll have to wait until tomorrow to learn why taking my kids to the library anytime in the next ten years would be a really bad idea.
When I went to Wellesley College, I joined a club called the Outing Club. It was one of the clubs that had a combined membership between Wellesley and MIT. My friends and I were very excited to go on a big campout with a bunch of different colleges one spring. By the time we got there, it was starting to get dark, and we were starving. Fortunately the MIT contingent had agreed to bring the food. Unfortunately, they forgot to bring enough for us, and I have a distinctly bad memory of eating someone else's leftover spaghetti. After Suzanne's post (and the comments from various people) about eating food out the trash, I finally feel okay with this.
I hadn't been camping in about 5 years, and none of my friends had ever camped. Fortunately the MIT contingent had agreed to bring the tents. Even more fortunately, they remembered to bring one for us. When they gave it to us, we did what we thought was the reasonable thing and asked where the directions were. They looked at us like we were crazy. Fortunately engineering students don't need instructions to know how to put things together. Unfortunately liberal arts majors do. Fortunately male engineering students lack the patience to watch liberal arts coeds fumble around trying to put together a tent at the pace of a snail while it gets dark. They jumped in, corrected our mistakes and put the tent together in about 2 seconds. Alright, maybe it was 60 seconds, but I swear all I did was turn around and it was assembled. They gave us a weird look, commented on how putting a tent together was really quite easy, and left.
That's why I was shocked the next day when they suggested the following bonding activity for all the colleges: put together a tent while blindfolded. No, I'm not kidding. Not wanting to be bad sports my friends and I participated. Needless to say, the only record we set was for the longest amount of time ever taken to put together a tent. The MIT geniuses contingent seemed genuinely stunned. I remember pointing out to them that we couldn't even get the tent together with our eyes open much less with a blindfold on. We did much better on the task requiring us to run around several trees with water on a spoon without spilling any of it.
As for our tent? I hated to look a gift horse in the mouth, but it was set up on a patch of completely uneven ground so we ended up sleeping outside.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: If you can't do something with your eyes open, there's a good chance you won't be able to do it blindfolded.
Hahaha. Yeah, I'd so be sleeping outside if I had to put a tent together blindfolded. Either that or I'd be wearing an eye patch and not a blindfold from having skewered myself on a tent pole.
Thanks for playing Flashback Friday with me. :D There's a Mr. Linky up on my post for this week if you want to sign in.
Funny! I much prefer the "pop-up" variety that only requires one tug and the whole thing self assembles. (they kind of look like igloos) Actually,...I much prefer the hotel room!
Saturday was my great aunt's funeral. The nicest aspect of the wake and funeral, was that it was exactly what she had wanted. To me, that's all that really matters. While there were parts of both that I was uncomfortable with, I know that the event was about her and not me.
Since I was a pallbearer, we had to be there pretty early. Our older son (OS) came with me to pay respects to Aunt Julie. I was impressed with how well he did. A short while later, the funeral director led everyone in prayers. It was very quick.
The rest of the "white glove club," which consisted of my brother and cousins, and I had our duties to attend to, so the Big Giraffe was solely in charge of the boys. We had agreed ahead of time that if we thought for whatever reason that they wouldn't be comfortable with the funeral, he would leave with them. I wasn't surprised later in the church when I didn't see them. I had heard some laughter at the beginning, but apparently the Big Giraffe took them out the car where they were much happier. Again, the service was really quick, although apparently the Big Giraffe had not felt time was passing quickly enough when he had the boys in the back of the church.
They stayed in the car too when we went to the cemetery. This was actually one part of the event with which I was uncomfortable. I personally didn't want the boys to come in the mausoleum where Aunt Julie was going to be buried. This type of mausoleum has many wings each filled with the remains of different families. The coffins are placed in a drawer, and the drawer is sealed. A plaque with the name and critical dates is placed on the "drawer." I have terrible memories of this place from when I was around OS's age. I remember thinking it was incredibly creepy that people were buried in the walls. Since my great aunt Val had already announced that she wanted everyone to tour the mausoleum, I thought it was better for the boys to avoid the whole situation. I know, I know...just because I was scared of something as a child doesn't mean my sons will be. By the same token, it still wasn't something that the Big Giraffe and I were prepared for our children to experience yet. Frankly I didn't see any benefit to them or to anyone else for having them there. Plus anytime I'm agitated or uncomfortable, the boys unsurprisingly pick up on it. The Big Giraffe had no angst about spending another fifteen minutes in the car with the them.
The festivities ended with a family gathering, lunch at a restaurant called New Warsaw (although my cousin and I swear it used to be Old Warsaw). My family is Polish. This is where we always gathered for family reunions. My cousins and I all dislike it because it gives us really bad gas (and sometimes more than gas) because we're not used to eating authentic Polish food. My parents and aunts and uncles all love it. So does the Big Giraffe. I was just grateful that I didn't have to get on an airplane with him and the boys, who also really enjoyed it, afterwards. I had been calling the place Old Diarrhea, but I guess I'll have to start calling it New Diarrhea. The Big Giraffe said it gives new meaning to Chicago's nickname Windy City. Plus, you also get charged $2 if you waste food by not finishing the food on your plate. (We didn't actually see this happen, but they have signs all around the buffet describing the policy.)
We had a pleasant flight home. In fact it was the smoothest flight we have ever had with the boys, in turn leading to a relatively calm and peaceful airport experience back in Providence. Tomorrow we will be back to our usual routine.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Wasting food may be costly.
I think it's always a good idea to go with your gut when it comes to how to deal with your children in all circumstances. I'm glad your Great Aunt got the wake/funeral she would have wanted.
Sounds like you and I had very similar weekends! We had a wake and funeral also, not a family member of mine, but of a close friend. It is so hard with kids, knowing what to do and trying to anticipate their reactions. My youngest is 12, and he asked my husband and I if it would be alright if he didn't have to go up to the front to view the deceased. We told him that was absolutely fine. I was really proud of him, he gave his condolences and shook hands, etc. I guess the only way they learn these things is to experience them. So sorry about your Aunt Julie. It's too bad you weren't in Chicago for a happier occasion, we could have met up for a drink! I surely needed one this weekend as I suspect you did too!
I just love how you and BG respect the kids and talk through expectations, needs, etc. And you were right to let the boys miss the internment. It is still a scary idea to grown-ups!
When I first started doing spinning this fall, I was, how should I say this, surprised by how intense many of the other spinners were. No, I'm not talking about their level of exertion, although that is pretty impressive. It was their gear. Honestly I wouldn't be surprised if I walked in one day and saw someone wearing a helmet while on their stationary bike. Many of them already wore the gloves! I felt out of place for a long time, until I bought a special workout shirt and spinning shoes for myself.
Today I ventured off to the Y where I used to swim in junior high. Since I'm a member of a Y with an AWAY program, I can use other Ys. That sounds so ritzy! I decided to attend a spinning class. I love spinning, but I also love poking fun at it. How then could I not deliver the following statement? I think I finally found my mother ship! No, people weren't talking about "wicked hard workouts." At this Y, everyone was dressed in large ratty t-shirts and beat up gym shoes. One lady was even wearing her boats. Ahhh...to be at home and to fit in! Except that I wasn't in a ratty t-shirt or beat up shoes. I was in my MA spinning gear, and now I was out of place for being dressed up. Hey, maybe I'll feel like I found my mother ship again when I return to MA.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: There's a Mother Ship Bike out there for everyone.
That's so true how different gyms in the Chicago-area are from the northeast! When I work out in NYC, a lot of women wear a sports bra without a shirt over it. However, even at the Chicago branches of my fancy gym, no women do that. It's interesting.
This morning I got up with plenty of time in the hopes of achieving a zen-like mentality before leaving for the airport. Alright what I really told the Big Giraffe last night was I needed enough time to get up, have a minor nervous breakdown and then pull it together before we left. His response was that he was going to set his alarm clock to go off an hour after mine, so that he could miss the breakdown. I wasn't too amused.
I got up and went to make coffee only to find the permanent coffee filter had broken. I tried to use it anyway and ended up with coffee grinds all over the place. I was nowhere near the zen-like image I had envisioned for myself. The Big Giraffe hit Dunkin Donuts to get my coffee or perhaps to escape what he thought was sure to be an inevitable breakdown; maybe even both. During his absence I managed to get everything else together so that by the time he returned I was calm cool and collected. Hmm... maybe anxious, but trying to appear cool and collected would be a better description.
Despite the light snow which normally would have paralyzed MA, we got to TF Green Airport in Providence RI on time. Here's when it started to get dream-like for me. The ticket agent, at the Big Giraffe's request, gave him a pass to get through security so that he could escort the kids and me to the gate. I didn't think they did that anymore! I was really excited. I had two kids (one of whom just started walking and still likes to be carried a lot), one car seat, one computer backpack/diaper bag and one stroller. I was gladto have help carrying it all. Then the employee at the security check told me to take all the time I needed and not to feel rushed when throwing shoes, blankets, computer, strollers, and boys into the bins that go through the X-ray machine. Are you kidding me? Was this guy for real? The security agents never have patience! I couldn't believe my good luck. Yet, it got better!
We had gotten through security so quickly, that we were at the gate almost two hours before our flight. (The flight was then delayed which was obviously not better, but at least we weren't rushed.) We took the kids to the Dunkin Donuts right by our gate. We ended up boarding 25 minutes after the scheduled departure time.
I had visions of both of my sons sprinting away from me when boarding the plane (and in those visions my younger son (YS) was running the wrong way), but both kids actually listened and waited patiently for me to collapse the stroller right at the entrance to the plane so it could be gate checked. The other passengers were very pleasant and waited patiently for me to get situated with the stroller before boarding the plane. My older son (OS) went in first followed by YS, who actually walked, followed by me with the computer backpack and carseat. OS stopped a few rows in and wanted to sit down. I told him we were in row 16 and worried that he would stop to check at each row, but as we passed each row, the passengers shouted out "You're almost there OS! It's row 16!" I becamse absolutely convinced that I had drunk something really good last night and was still asleep.
We got to our seats and both boys waited patiently for me to install YS's carseat and then help OS, who had to sit in a single seat across the aisle from me (very small plane). After our flight was in the air, I realized that we had never eaten lunch and it was well past noon, but I had no hunger-related meltdown. I handed out the cereal bars that I had brought, and the boys were fine.
Lest you think everything was perfect, there were some rumblings that typically precede a double meltdown when I couldn't figure out how to get past the previews on the movie I was letting OS watch on my computer. Since he was upset, YS was upset and howling ensued. A lady ahead of us told OS to be quiet, and his meltdown was brief and (for him) pretty quiet. I headed it off by delivering some threats under my breath, mainly related to shutting down the computer. Calming YS took a bit of cuddling and singing. I hope that since I was sitting right next to the bathroom the combination of the constant flush of the toilet and the roar of the engines drowned out my singing voice. Seriously, I think the woman sitting in front of me with her son and my family were the only people on the plane who did not use the bathroom during the flight.
When I ordered the tickets, I had requested assistance from the airline upon landing. Despite the fact that I specified that I did not need a wheel chair, an airline employee showed up with one anyway. He admitted that he wasn't sure how I could have make it to baggage claim with boys, bags, and carseat without help. I told him that for a previous flight the airline had suggested putting in the request. His response was that it was totally fine and that solo parents had done it in the past, but usually people requesting wheelchairs really needed them. He was very nice and although it may sound like he was saying I was an idiot, he actually didn't come off like that. I'm sure he just kept that thought to himself.
We met up with my parents and finally got something to eat. It was there that we had the most predictable ending to a day where everything went much better than I could have imagined; YS threw up in the restaurant much to the horror of a couple of customers. Fortunately he's fine now, and hey, nothing's perfect!
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Usually people who request wheelchairs at an airport really need them.
Glad that it went well. I was also wondering whether the lady was helping you by telling OS to be quiet or if she was being a nasty bitch. It sounds like maybe she was trying to help you out.
In the last two days I have posted about eggs and holiday grinches. Alas, I now see the connection between the two. Another emissary of the holidays was apparently in my neighborhood last night. I think this one was actually a Halloween emissary who somehow missed that Halloween had already come and gone. This morning we woke up to find that someone had egged my husband's car. One difference between Halloween and mid-November, was that the yolk froze. Fortunately, it all came off.
While I often write posts about the Big Giraffe having egg on his face, I have never written one about him having egg on his car. This shouldn't have been a problem, you might think. After all, I was the only one who had to be someplace this morning. That is where the story gets more dramatic...
I happened to read a wise and intelligent blog post a while back by someone named Balex Melliot on the importance of not driving around with the gas tank on empty. Upon first reading her post I was shocked because honestly what kind of idiot drives around with her car that empty? Personally, I tell everyone that I never drive my car unless the tank is at least 3/4 full. I mean why would you take any chances? Plus with the cold weather arriving, your gas tank might freeze if it's empty. Everyone knows this. There is no reason to not heed this valuable advice.
You can imagine then how upset I was this morning when I found my gas tank on empty. Apparently the person who egged the Big Giraffe's car was also in possession of the keys to my car and had the audacity to not only drain the gas tank to just above empty, but to jam the door to the gas tank. I was completely shocked. After all, it is not like there was a sign on the gas tank telling me that the door was jammed. I found out once I got to the gas station to fill it up and was unable to do so. I was actually late to an event as a result.
Unfortunately, my cell phone's roadside assistance plan does not offer the service of opening a stuck gas tank door. The person who answered the call put me in for an emergency gas refill, which is a covered service. Since the person who responded to the call could not deliver the gas without opening the gas tank door, he obviously had to help us out. As it turned out, he also knew that he was not technically responsible for opening gas tank doors, but he helped out anyway.
The most shocking part of the gas tank story is that the Big Giraffe won't believe a word of it! Unfortunately the evidence proving the egg story was more difficult for him to ignore.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned Once Again:It's really NOT a good idea to drive around with the gas tank almost empty.
Your post misrepresents my viewpoint. I have no trouble believing that someone "drained" your car of gas. I in fact know who did it and how. I just don't believe that the same person egged my car. Even if egging a car were consistent with your personality, you seemed far too tired after driving to and from the New England Aquarium.
Ha, I should take advice from Balex Melliot. I am the worst offender of driving around close to E. Hey in my defense I take the train to work so I don't drive a huge amount during the week. Ok,ok I know...still risky!
Do you ever wonder what the security personnel think of you when they're viewing you on a tape? Until I was parent, I never really did. Now that my kids have thrown countless tantrums in stores, I have performed a wide array of impromptu dance routines to keep them entertained in line, and I've alternated between opening each of my car doors several times in parking lots to retrieve a toy or give one of the kids one more kiss before we drive, I sometimes wonder. Today I'm past wondering. I know anyone watching the security tapes at the parking garage that I visited today, must think I am insane. The Big Giraffe would might agree that I am insane, but for different reasons!
My parents were in Boston for the day, so the boys and I met my parents at the New England Aquarium. We had a really wonderful time. In fact, I'm already planning my next visit with the Big Giraffe, who unfortunately who wasn't able to make it, and of course the boys. Hmm...maybe that shouldn't have been an "of course".
Afterwards, I did the parent in the parking garage dance of strapping kids in carseats, stowing the diaper bag, and putting the stroller in the trunk. Unfortunately, one of the sippy cups fell out and as luck would have it, rolled under the car parked next to mine.
At first I decided to just leave it. We rarely loose sippy cups. However, this one was one that a friend gave my younger son (YS) for his birthday. It was new and I really liked it. Plus I know that if I left it there, then it would have ultimately ended up in the trash. So I did the reasonable thing: I re-opened the trunk, grabbed my older son's (OS) duck umbrella (you know the kind that has the handle shaped like a duck head and pictures of ducks all over the plastic), got down on my hands and knees, and poked the sippy cup with the umbrella. Let's be clear: I was on the floor of the parking garage. Done right? Nope. As sippy cub grabbing devices go, an umbrella is far less precise then other options, such as a cane. Since I rarely lose sippy cups, my umbrelling motion was subpar, and I accidentally nudged the sippy cup the wrong way...into a position where I still couldn't reach it.
I walked around the parked car to get into a better position. I kneeled down, peered under the car, and after further poking with the umbrella, I was finally able to reach under the car and grab the sippy cup. Proud of my achievement, I stood up, held head high (although hopefully not facing any security camera) and strutted back to my car with dignity and grace.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: A cane is a more effective sippy cup grabbing device than a duck umbrella.
Thank goodness security didn't decide that you were messing with the car. Then again, if I were someone paid minimum wage with no benefits to provide security, I probably wouldn't bother to investigate a possibly deranged criminal such as yourself, either.
I have another Epcot story to tell. This is particularly appropriate because I just today understood a lesson that I technically learned when I was there. I previously shared the story of my last full day in Orlando, when I went to Epcot, chickened out at Mission Space, then went on Soarin' and a few other rides and then saved face by finally going on Mission Space right before I left that day.
In between losing and saving face, or more specifically after we went on Soarin', my cousin suggested going on a ride called Living with the Land which was located in the same building. I immediately breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that the boat for the ride did not have any safety restraints. Lack of safety restraints is the best evidence that a ride is safe! The second best evidence is that both newborns and the elderly can ride it. It was the opposite end of the spectrum from Mission Space. That in and of itself was reason enough to go on it. Plus, it bought me time since my family had already casually inquired a few times whether or not I would like to have another go at Mission Space. You can now understand why I immediately seconded my cousin's suggestion to go on it, even though I knew nothing about about Living with the Land (or at least the ride).
Shortly after our boat took off, we saw a sign posted on the wall that warned that if you got out of the boat, you would be escorted out of Epcot. I really wish I had had my camera on me. My cousin and I got a good laugh out of the sign. We figured that some people must have decided to goof off and climb out of the boat just because it went so slowly and there appeared to be "sidewalks" beside the whole ride. However, as the ride continued we understood why Disney discouraged wandering.
The ride took us through the Epcot lab where they experiment with different ways to grow produce. We passed fruit that just looked perfect! We also saw produce that was a bit more unique. For example, I saw that the Mickey Mouse-shaped pumpkins that could be found all over Disney were actually real pumpkins that had been grown in Mickey Mouse face molds, not fake pumpkins like I had thought.
When we drove by one particular fruit tree, my cousin gasped with excitment. She said that she would consider getting kicked out of Epcot to take one of the fruits because they were that good. The conversation went something like this:
AE: What fruit is that? AE's Cousin: T blah blah AE: What?! AE's Cousin: T blah blah. Haven't you ever had one before (said with an incredulous look on her face)? AE: (With an incredulous look on my face) No, I have never even heard of them before. AE's Cousin: They taste sort of like sweet grapefruit.
Then this past Friday I had the following conversation with a friend of mine who is a gourmet chef:
AE: I bought this fruit that my cousin raved about. I'm going to try it later. Gourmet Chef: What is it called? AE: I can't remember, but I recognized the name when I saw it at the grocery store. It starts with a T. My cousin says it tastes like a sweet grapefruit. It looks like a weird orange. I probably never bought one before because I assumed it was an orange that had some weird genetic engineering going on with it.
Well, of course the name wasn't on the sticker, but after doing a google search for fruits starting with "T", I was able to find it. I immediately emailed my friend. I understand that she had the following conversation with her wife:
Gourmet Chef: Alex just got T blah blah for the first time. Gourmet Chef's Wife: What is that? Gourmet Chef: The fruit T blah blah. Gourmet Chef's Wife: What?! Gourmet Chef: T blah blah. Haven't you ever had one before (presumably said with an incredulous look on her face)? Gourmet Chef's Wife: (Presumably with an incredulous look on her face) No, I have never even heard of them before. Gourmet Chef: They taste sort of like sweet grapefruit.
This led to yet one more conversation over this fruit.
Gourmet Chef: It's a tangelo!!! How have you never had one before. Wait, a minute my wife just said she had never heard of them either. They're really big in California which is where I'm from, but I guess they're not as popular here.
For the record, I really enjoyed the tangelo, as did my younger son. They're a cross between a tangerine and a grapefruit or a pomelo.
Alex Elliot's Cousin's Lesson Learned: Tangelos are delicious.
Tangelos are one citrus fruit I cannot stand. They just aren't enough of anything. Of course, this is coming from a woman who eats less than an orange a year.
You are hilarious. I used to eat tangelos all the time as a kid. I buy them now, too. I thought they were crosses between tangerines and oranges, though.
I know when planning your Disney vacation two questions pop into your mind
How old does my baby need to be before I can ride all the adult rides?
Is there a place to heat up a bottle/nurse?
Fortunately, both questions have simple answers. The first is thirty. The answer to question two is yes.
I was quite intrigued by the Baby Care Centers in Disney World. In fact the Big Giraffe casually inquired whether or not we would be visiting one during our date night so that I could blog about it. Silly, Big Giraffe. Of course not! There's no reason to wait a whole week when we walked past one every time we walked into the Magic Kingdom. And sure enough, I grabbed my 15 month old and checked it out.
So what exactly is in the Baby Care Center? Just like everything else in Disney, it was well thought out and very clean. There were comfy chairs when I walked into the center. There is a separate room with a closed door for nursing moms only. I didn't investigate that since I'm not a nursing mom although according to this review from MousePlanet, it is open to moms who are bottle feeding their babies. However, I'm no longer doing that either. I do love the idea of moms whether they're formula feeding or breastfeeding being able to feed their baby in a clean comfortable environment. There was a kitchen where you could heat bottles and baby food. Forgot formula, baby food, diapers, baby Tylenol, etc.? Not to worry, because you could buy it right there. (A friend of mine who goes to Disney every year told me that all that used to be free.) The Baby Center itself is sponsored by Carnation.
There is a room that is filled with nice high chairs and a few kids tables and chairs. I saw some parents of toddlers feeding their kids there. That makes a lot of sense because it is quiet and air conditioned. I know we found that just going inside a quiet building or other calm place to eat seemed to recharge the boys when they got overwhelmed or overstimulated. Another room was filled with 5 changing tables. I was pretty impressed. I'm assuming that the other centers are similar. In addition to the Magic Kingdom, you can find them at MGM, Epcot and Animal Kingdom. The previously mentioned review MousePlanet for great pictures and more details.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: In the place where dreams come true, women can breastfeed and formula feed beside each other in peace.
I forgot about the baby care centers! They were absolutely lovely. One of the times I was in there when Sunny was a baby there was a woman in there who was bottle feeding, but I found that most of the times the mothers who were bottle feeding stayed in the room with the high chairs since there was a video screen in there. The nursing room was a very peaceful place, with dimmed lighting and no other source of noise than the people who are in there, with about seven rocking chairs. It was the nicest place for feeding your children in a retail establishment that I have ever seen. Customer service at its finest.
The first aid stations are also fantastic. I went to one at Disneyland with a blister and Mrs Nice Nurse Lady gave me a band aid and a free thing of Tylenol. Disney takes care of their guests pretty well, probably to make up for the price gouging.
That sounds great. I remember flying from NY to New Zealand with my 13 month old ( a trip I would only recommend to my worst enemies). THe airport in LA didn't even have a changing table in the ladies room but the airport in Auckland, NZ had a full "Mum's room" with a crib (cot), chair, etc, etc.... It makes all the difference.
That sounds very nice. It makes me sort of wish that places like that existed out in the world for adults to take a breather -- A place to rest for a minute when I get overstimulated running my errands. With snacks and nice hand creams...
I really like Epcot. I love the International Village with all its different types of food, street performances and shops. Plus there are some really great rides there. There is nothing like it in Massachusetts. Compared to the Magic Kingdom it's easy to get in and out (unless you get lost on your way to the parking lot), making it great to park hop. However, I remember going there when I was 7 and hating it. That seems to be a fairly common experience, so I don't think it's any coincidence that they chose to put the new Nemo ride there to make it more appealing to children. The first night that we were in Orlando, we decided to take advantage of the fact that our children had no idea what Disney World was, and to go to Epcot. Since they didn't have any other park to compare it to, they enjoyed it.
Since we didn't want to get bogged down with too many plans, we had only made a few reservations during our trip. We had made none for our first day. I had heard great things about the food in "Germany" so we decided to check it out. Lo and behold not only was there a German restaurant with an appealing name (Biergarten) and an appealing slogan ("Every Day is Oktoberfest"), but the wait for a table was less than five minutes, and it was air conditioned. Definitely a plus in the very humid weather. Biergarten was a buffet that was priced at slightly more than we had wanted to spend, but it turned out to be my favorite restaurant of the trip.
We were seated with another family, which the waitress said is traditional in Germany. This isn't something that usually happens in Massachusetts. The other family consisted of a dad, a grandpa, and two boys who looked like they were about 8 and 10. I was secretly pleased to be sharing a table with them, because both of my boys were hungry and cranky and I had already seen these boys horsing around with the ropes used to guide the line. I figured if my boys acted up, it wouldn't be as noticeable as if we were seated with a family with perfectly behaved kids.
Right as we were seated, a band started playing traditional German music. People were invited to dance on the dance floor below the stage. One of the musicians was announced as the fastest cowbell player in the world, and he attempted to prove that claim. This isn't something you get to hear every day in Massachusetts.
Anytime the band found out that it was someone's birthday or anniversary, they gave a toast in German invited everyone to raise their glasses and shout "Hoy, hoy, hoy!" (I'm sure I spelled that wrong.) This isn't something that is typically shouted in Massachusetts, but all the kids seemed to really like enjoy it. That said, if you or your kids don't like loud environments, this is not the restaurant for you. The restaurant was also somewhat dark.
Ambiance and music are nice things, but most people come to a restaurant for food and drink. I am pleased to report that both boys loved the food, and the Big Giraffe and I considered both the food and beer to be excellent. The buffet included every type of German meat that I'm familiar with, not that I'm an expert by any means. There were wursts and sausages and a carving station with other types of meat. Even the salads were sprinkled with chunks of meat. I swear at one point I ate something that tasted similar to a big chunk of deli bologna, but it was very tasty and a favorite of my younger son (YS). It's been a long time since I've been that impressed with a buffet. You don't typically get food like that in Massachusetts. Although the boys and the Big Giraffe also liked the desserts, I wasn't that impressed by them, so I decided to hold off until we went to "France".
As the meal was winding down, the boys in the other family started to act up. Honestly, if I hadn't been sitting right next to the older one, I wouldn't have even noticed, and even at the same table, I wasn't bothered by them. They weren't loud, and there was a lot going on in the restaurant. I am sure that no one outside of our table noticed, until...the dad suddenly attracted the attention of every patron of Biergarten by belting out to his older son "If you blow that spit ball at your brother I will pull down your pants and spank you right here in front of everyone in Germany!" I think we all sent the boy silent vibes not to shoot the spitball, and thankfully he didn't. That isn't something you typically hear in Massachusetts.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: There are differences between Epcot, Germany, and Massachusetts.
Good point, Count Moc. As for Epcot, I've been there twice (once as a kid and once as a newlywed with a horrendous cold) and I hated it both times. But I'm now tempted to give it another chance some day.
I'm back from Orlando. My internet connection there was basically non-existent so although I had planned to do a few posts, you pretty much got silence. Where to begin? With the end, of course. I'll start with my last day, since it extended my blogging vacation one more day than planned.
By the time we reached the last day in Orlando, both boys were wiped out. While I normally like to enjoy every last second on my vacations, I was happy to rest as well. I hadn't been feeling the Disney "magic" this trip, because most of my time was spent at the Magic Kingdom riding around on kiddie rides. We decided to have a "hotel day" and hang out at the pool. There was a Krispy Kreme nearby, and, since we love their donuts but can't get them in MA, the Big Giraffe bought some for the whole extended family. Everyone really enjoyed them.
As I was getting ready to go to the pool, my aunt, uncle, and cousin invited me to join them for one adult-only day at Epcot. Voila! A chance to reclaim the Disney magic. It took a little bit for everyone to get ready. Then we all went and got Fast Passes for this really cool ride called Soarin'. My cousin really wanted Japanese food for lunch, so we headed over to the International area of Epcot and stopped in "Japan" where I got sushi. It was quite good, but my stomach did rumble a couple of times as the sushi, donuts, and some French pastry that I don't recall buying made a really weird combination.
After lunch and the ride on Soarin', my aunt and uncle really wanted to try a ride called Mission Space. This is the ride that loads everyone into a giant centrifuge that is going 2.4 G. Each person is expected to stare into a "window" in front of them, which is really a screen playing a 3D movie to complete the illusion of being launched into outer space. My aunt and uncle insisted that the experience was completely amazing and as long as we only looked at the screen, we would be fine. My cousin and I were nonetheless a little nervous about it.
As we tried to find the ride, we saw a kid walking towards us pushing his skin back on his face while animatedly talking to someone. We knew we were in the right place at the ride. This didn't inspire confidence that we wanted to be at the ride. The continuous warnings that those with any motion sickness, high blood pressure, claustrophobia, a fear of heights etc. should not go on the ride did not help either. Seriously, they were everywhere. Plus they kept on making recorded announcements that I swear said something like "if you even think you shouldn't be on this ride, then you shouldn't be on this ride". In fact it's even mentioned in this review from All Ears Net. I gave a long look to each of the many places available to bail out. Surprisingly there was no line so before I knew it I was being rushed into the prep room.
In the prep room you watch a video where Gary Sinise tells you about the ride. A female narrator stresses that you should only look straight ahead and you should not under any circumstances close your eyes. They even show a demo of a girl looking to the left and right and closing her eyes while the narrator tells you not to do that. I looked around and there were little kids around my older son's age in line. They told me that they had already gone on the ride before and it was great. My uncle used this as further proof that the ride was fine. I was not convinced. I was a camp counselor for four years, and I know that kids can eat a half a pizza and twirl around on a swing without throwing up. It doesn't mean that I can do it.
All of a sudden we were ushered to our rocket pod to board. I bailed. The rest of my family held strong, and I met up with them in the bailout area. We all went onto other rides. However, after hearing from my cousin that the ride was not as bad as she had thought it would be, I began regretting that I bailed. It took me a while to admit it though. Finally just before we were about to leave the park, my uncle offered me the chance to save face to go with me again. How pathetic is that that my 57 year old uncle had to talk his 31 year old niece into going on an amusement park ride? It should have been the other way around.
Again there was no line, but because I had already been through the prep, I was much calmer this time. Plus there was a boy who looked like he was about 12 who was really excited about the ride. He and his aunt had just gotten off the green version of the ride, which is the tamer version without any spinning. He couldn't wait to go on. See what I mean about kids? He knew all about the ride.
We boarded our pod. Everyone was assigned their "duties". My aunt's theory is that everyone is assigned a job to force them to look at the screen so they won't get sick. Basically each person has two buttons on their screen and at various points they light up and need to be pressed. Each person also has a joystick. We got in and I was pleased to be sitting next to the barf bags. I lowered the harness. My seat tilted back, and the screen moved up closer to me. Then Gary Sinise started speaking again about the rocket and about only looking straight ahead and not closing our eyes. I know he said other stuff too, but I was too nervous to pay attention. Finally just when I was getting annoyed that this was taking so long, the "rocket" launched. It was both the coolest and most nauseating feeling. I really felt like I was being launched into space (or what I assume it feels like to be launched into space). As I broke through the clouds, I had an overwhelming feeling that I was going to see my donuts and raw fish (and French pastry) again. I was fighting against all of my instincts to not close my eyes. My eyes were tearing and I could feel my skin pulling back on my face. I dug my heels to the floor and waited for the inevitable barfing. Then, like my cousin had said, the feeling went away and I felt like I was floating in space (this is really because I was being spun around like crazy). I pressed my buttons. I moved the joystick when I was told. I only felt slightly ill, if at all. We landed on Mars and our mission was complete. (Not sure how we got back though.)
When I exited the ride, I couldn't believe what a wimp I had been. I felt fine. Or so I thought. It wasn't until last night when I was googling the ride and reading rider reviews that I found out that it can take 15 minutes after the ride ends to feel the effects. I have to say that my stomach felt weird. Apparently that weirdness can also last for a few days. I can attest that it lasted a good 24 hours. Good thing I loaded up on all those calories, because I didn't feel like eating a thing. I feel fine today, but I swear on the flight home yesterday a few times I felt like I was traveling to Mars instead of MA.
(The Big Giraffe claims that I left for Mars long before this week, and he remains unconvinced that I have returned.)
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Do not eat donuts, sushi, and French pastry together, particularly if you are about to go on an amusement park ride that causes long-term nausea.
I am amazed you went on it after all. You are braver than me. I just remember hurling into a garbage can at Disney Land as a 5th grader some time after a ride. I understand those 10 minute to 24 hour effects....
LOLZ! Poor Alex. I can't do those rides anymore! Too old or sumthin'!
Btw, Welcome Back! I've been doing some bloggy tasks and FINALLY blog rolled you, 'cause you're so awesome, and you've been a good friend to me. :) I also gave you an award while you were gone. :D It's here.
The Difference Between Traveling with One Kid vs. Two
Since I'm from IL, my boys and I have done our fair share of plane trips. As we get ready to leave to go to Disney World for a family reunion, I've been reflecting on how different this trip is from other trips we've taken. Why is it different? Fun and thrills? Family members that we don't often see? No, what I've been reflecting on is the packing.
When I first started traveling with my older son (OS), I brought an enormous amount of stuff with me. Because of my experience in college when my plane was rerouted to land in another state where we had to stay overnight, I somehow decided that I needed enough supplies to last for the next 6 months. Alright, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but I did pack things in my carry-on for at least two days. Whatever the "experts" recommended, I packed. We all had spare outfits, snacks and plenty of things to do.
As we've traveled to visit family more, I've realized that the number of things we've packed has dwindled. There have been several reasons for this. The first is that I realized that I just don't have as much "me time" on the plane, so while a single magazine is great, having uninterrupted time to read a book is a pipe dream. Thus, all my books and most of my magazines stay at home. I realized crayons were much more of a pain than they were worth. They fell on the floor too many times. Same thing with other toys. After all, the aisles on planes are barely wide enough for people to sit, much less to crawl around reaching for toys, crayons, sippy cups, and other gear. We've been fortunate that we've never had a child throw up on us. Also since most of our flights are less than two hours, we've stopped packing spare clothes for us. Both of my kids are done with bottles and baby food, which clears up a lot of carry-on space. As far as snacks, I'm a minimalist. I know planes get stuck on run-ways, so bringing a couple baggies of goldfish crackers makes sense. Carting a vending machine selection around the airport, on the other hand, is a bit too much. Of course now because of FAA regulations, we have to fill up sippy cups once we go through security anyway.
Our carry-ons for tomorrow will consist (I would say do consist but I haven't packed yet) of a couple books for each boy, my older son's FP3 player, and a package of post-it notes. You want to know which toy they'll spend 99% of their time playing with? That's right, the Post-It notes. That's the other reason why my bag is so light. Nothing beats the Post-It notes, particularly if you have a couple of them in different colors. The possibilities are endless. Of course the final benefit of a light carry-on, is that I can actually fish around to get easy access to everything I have packed.
Here's to hoping I haven't jinxed myself and fellow passengers and ended up wearing a shirt with a vomit on it for two hours.
Good luck traveling. Hope it's painless. I can't wait to start packing light on planes... right now I always feel like a pack horse what with the car seat, diaper bag, snacks toys etc.
Great tip about the post-its. We are traveling in December and I am dreading the massive carryons, so this is good advice from an experienced traveler! Have fun!
Sometimes its the adult passengers who throw up on you. Just ask my friend Sara, who unfortuantely sat next to me on a red flight to London when I exploded.
Yesterday we, by that I mean two parents, two boys and one dog, all went to Freeport, Maine. Yes, we live life on the wild side. We stayed at a wonderful bed and breakfast called Maple Hill that I highly recommend. There were quite a few lessons learned so instead of just picking one, I thought I would list them:
When traveling with children, if at all possible, teleport your family. If that's not possible, then hire someone else to drive your kids so you can be in a separate car.
Your dog will behave better than anyone in the car including you.
Invest in some good ear plugs.
Your dog will be immune to noise.
When your child loses it and has a complete meltdown in a clam shack off the highway during a 2 year wait for a table, do the obvious thing: pretend you have no idea whose child it is and join other customers in looking at your spouse or partner and child with a look of horror.
During all meltdowns, your dog will be resting quite comfortably in the car or in the room.
When your child has a complete meltdown after hurting himself by falling off of a chair in a restaurant later on, refrain from giving the finger to other customers who are giving you a look of horror.
Don't fret if your kids eat less than usual or sleep way less than usual.
Don't be surprised to find that your dog eats and sleeps better than any time within the last two years. (And by eats better, I mean eats his own food, not that he gets better food)
Now that I am done choking on my fine wine from South Africa I can actually type.
That. list. was. hysterical!
I still need to write about the final rest stop on the way back from Quebec. It was the restaurant from hell. While we got a table quickly we didn't get our food for nearly 2 hours and one of the kids' pizzas was burnt to a crisp.
There are many reasons why driving around with an almost empty gas tank is a bad idea. There are also many reasons why driving around with an almost empty gas tank and leaving your wallet on the kitchen table is a bad idea. Fortunately that situation can be remedied by leaving a small amount of spare cash in my...err...your car.
The worst situation to be in though is to have an almost empty gas tank and have the outside gas tank door on the car lock. That's right, you go to the gas station, flip the switch to pop the gas tank open and nothing happens. You repeat it and if you listen carefully you can hear the springs on the door moving, but nothing happens. Obviously you need to get the tank door fixed before you completely run out of gas. The unfortunate part is that I...oops, I mean you in this purely hypothetical scenario...don't know if you have enough gas to make it to the dealership where you typically have your car serviced. This involves having your husband drive behind you, while you hold breath and hope that you don't run out of gas on the highway. (You could also reduce the amount of danger by following his recommendation for taking a "back roads route" that avoids the interstate altogether.)
Fortunately for anyone in this situation, the gas tank door can be fixed by two burly looking guys pounding on the door while simultaneously pulling the gas tank lever. Such burly looking guys may be able to perform this repair in 5 seconds flat leaving the driver feeling like the world's biggest idiot. Fortunately, the hypothetical Balex Melliot did not have to pay for the experience of feeling like this.
A. Elliot's Learned: It's really NOT a good idea to drive around with the gas tank almost empty.
One time I was driving with such an empty tank that the car stalled while going up a hill and I had to pull over and try to restart. Fortunately, it did, but I've never let it get so low again!
Professional Mom of two cats, a dog, an ant farm, and oh yeah...two boys: a 6 year old and a 3 year old. Also found in my house is my husband who is known on this blog as The Big Giraffe.
For those of us who didn't get an instruction manual with our babies and for whom parenting hasn't always gone as planned. On a more serious note this blog is about supporting a woman's ability to make her own choices about parenting including the choice, for whatever reason, to bottle feed her babies formula.
I saw something about this on BG's Facebook page and wondered what happened. Sounds annoying. Glad that no one was hurt, though.