You are currently browsing the monthly archive for September, 2006.
The weather here is still unseasonably warm, and we have all the windows flung open each evening to catch a breeze. It’s kind of nice, but I am ready for some fall colors and crispness to the air- but that’s not what this is about.
My husband and I were standing in the bathroom talking (why? it’s the only place in the house we can escape from the wild monkeys…) and through the open window, we noticed a cat in the backyard, howling and yowling and screeting as only a cat lookin’ for love can do. Then it would pause, and wait for it’s kitty love interest to yowl back- and the song carried on.
The only thing was, it wasn’t yowling and howling to another kitty- it was yowling and howling and calling furtively- to our darling little daughter! Yes, sweet little Abs was in her crib in her room, chatting and cooing and talking to herself, somewhat loudly, and since all the windows were open, her cute little baby noises has floated across the yard, and called this poor tomcat out looking for a lady!
We stared at each other, and waited in silence- the cat would yowl, then be quiet. Abby would coo and screetch, the cat would answer! There was no doubt the cat was answering her- poor frustrated tomcat!
Abby had her first suitor! It’s both hilarious and disturbing all at once!
As I was cutting fresh tomatos and zucchini tonight, it dawned on me that summer is really over, and that these would be the very last yummy tomatos to grace our table this year. Suddenly I felt very sad.
Summer has never been my favorite season- I’m a fall gal, through and through. Heat bugs me, winter is just too long, and spring too short- fall is my favorite. But the taste and feeling of summer is always so lovely, at least when it’s not too hot. And summer does make my favorite food- nothing like a sun ripe tomato.
But time seems to be going too fast these days. How on earth is it already almost October? How on earth do I have a Kindergartner? And another son who is out of diapers, doing quite well, and does NOT need my help, thank you very much? And my baby girl, who was oh-so recently torturing me in-utero, is now almost sitting up on her own, finds her feet the most enchanting of toys, and ate rice cereal for the first time today? What in the holy hollyhocks is going on?
My grandmother always said time sped up when you got older. It’s kind of true, and kind of not- at least from my vantage point of somewhat younger years than my Gram… Sometimes the days feel like an eternity. Tick….tick….tick… another diaper, another load of laundry, another meal, another load of dishes, bath, bedtime, story, mess, sippy cup, spill…. ad infinitum. But them when I look up, suddenly years have gone by. How is that possible? How can time be both agonizingly slow, and flying on swift wings?
So tonight for dinner, we had a lovely heirloom tomato sauce over grilled chicken, with fresh zucchini, and it tasted ever so sweet. Fleeting. Maybe that’s why childhood, and life, are so sweet- we know they are fleeting, and like all the best things, must be savored while you can.
When I was a girl, my younger cousin had two imaginary friends, named Pacoo and Pessey. These friends would appear at different times and places on the whims and needs of my cousin. Once, she was in the seat on the back of my aunt’s bicycle as we rode through the neighborhood, and she told me they were riding with us. They lived in the Aloe Vera plant on Annie’s patio, if I remember correctly.
At the time, being 5 or so years older than her, I thought this was very cute, but I had never had an imaginary friend. I remember overhearing a conversation that “imaginary friends” were unhealthy and due to my cousin being an only child. Hmmmm. Funny what you internalize as a child. A simple overheard telephone call can color your perceptions and be recalled 28 years later…
This memory percolated to the surface when my boys both came up with imaginary friends. My knee-jerk reaction was to dismiss them, but I caught myself, and tried to figure out my feelings, and decided instead to play along. “Monster” and ”Little Dude” have turned out to be quite the imaginary outlet for my sons- doing things, going places and having adventures my boys cannot yet accomplish, but have the will and desire for, nonetheless.
Monster and Little Dude can change size, shape and color. They can move at the speed of a super jet, or creep along the floor, as needed. They drive race cars, scale mountains and both of them can fly. The friends will eat foods the boys don’t want to try, are not afraid of the dark (or monsters), and can outrun scary things. In short, they’re acting as emotional buffers for two little boys.
Childhood is so very short. Someday, probably sooner than later for Jeffrey, Monster and Little Dude will fall by the wayside- like so much of childhood. Beliefs and imaginings act as a chrysalis to protect the burgeoning butterfly, and like the chrysalis, are left behind when the butterfly takes to the sky.
This is SO gross, but in the interests of posterity and honesty, I have to record it. Stop reading now if you have a weak stomach.
Tonight, I went to the Releif Society (chuch women’s organization) broadcast with a friend at our stake center (main church building)- I took Abby with me, and left DH with both boys and a request that he do something fun with them.
When I got home, the boys met me at the kitchen door, jumping up and down, excited and happy I was home, but also looking quite like little cats who had eaten a canary or two. They were very excited to show me something. Something very special…
On the kitchen door, I have some magnetic clips for keeping papers I can’t lose- and hanging from one clip was a plastic zipper bag. The boys were clamoring and jumping wildly with excitement, pointing at it and laughing. At first it looked empty- but as I looked closer, it became clear what was in them.
“Are those what I think they are…?”
Hysterical laughter and jumping and giggling. DH looked very proud. In the bag were… boogers. Two. Great. Big. Hard. Boogers. DH had fished them from Beanies nose with tweezers. And they were all so impressed with them, they saved them to show me. This is what my boys do when I leave them alone for a few hours.
Is my house the only deranged house on earth, where boys’ idea of “something fun” while mom is away is this?
Just for the record, taking all three kids to the doctor at the same time, on the same day, at 9:00 in the morning? Bad idea- well, it had good intentions (all three done at once!) but what’s that they say about the road to Hell being paved with “good intentions”? Yeah, they were right. I may have gotten them all done at once, but I also had to get them bathed, dressed, in the car, and to the office all at once, too…
Usually I try and make us all look presentable for annual doctor check-ups, but this morning, I just ran out of time. They did all manage to get their baths, but that’s as far as my mama-skills carried me. Jeff chose his own outfit- jeans, a superman t-shirt, paired with his new snow boots. Eric got himself dressed, too- pants too small, a sweatshirt and Jeff’s outgrown sandals. Niiiiiice. At the last minute, I grabbed Abby from bed and just took her in her Jammies. We must’ve been quite a sight tromping into the doctor’s office, red haystacks of wet hair, mismatched clothes… “What season is it Mrs. M?” “Who cares…”
And. Everyone got shots. Yup. All three of them. It was cacophonous, the wailing and gnashing of teeth… rather like cats yowling and screetching- the whole office could hear my kids, even with the door closed. The nurses were laughing. So was I, but it was the rather brittle laughter that comes from being extremely close to the edge of your mind, but just aware enough to be slightly embarrassed…
All is well- no problems or issues, other than my baby is gigantic! She’ll be five months on Monday, and she is 20 pounds. Seriously! Someone feed the poor girl! She’s so squishy and chubby and she looks like the Gerber baby- at least that’s what the senior citizens at the grocery store say! And I’m good with that.
Besides, is there anything cuter than fat thighs on a pink-cheeked baby? She better enjoy it now, cause it’s a narrow, narrow window for fat thighs being super cute!
Achtung! Kindergarten, posted at Mormon Mommy Wars.
Cue the Pink Floyd- you should be hearing ticking clocks and the deep heartbeat rhythm followed shattering bells… tick. Tick. Tick…
Time. For some reason, I thought when my kid started school, I would suddenly have all kinds of extra time. Ha! What was I thinking? Novice mom I am not, but novice school-age mom, count me amongst the ranks. Lately I find myself running around like the proverbial headless chicken, to and fro, and getting very little accomplished in the meanwhile. Even carving out a few minutes to write, something very important to me, had been a challenge.
Gone are the whimsical days of doing whatever the mood sent us. Gone are the days of lallygagging about the house in our pj’s until noon. Gone are the days of frittering the afternoon away at the park, until we felt like coming home. Nope. No more. Now, I have to know what time it is- all the time. While I own a few watches (of the Mickey Mouse variety), I haven’t worn them in probably 20 years- but I’m starting to think I might have to break down and strap on the ol’ timepiece. So far I have managed to get Jeffrey to school on time every day, and have not yet forgotten to pick him up. SO far.
And the time he is at school? The hours between 8:45 and 2:45? For the life of me, I can’t figure out where they go… Maybe I run to the market, or throw in an errand or two, but seriously, six hours ought to last longer than…. well, longer than it does. It seems like by the time I get Eric and Abby home, start some laundry, do some necessary stuff around the house, then it’s lunch time. Manage that, put Abby down for her nap, and before I know it, it’s time to go pick Jeff up again, and when I get home, it’s time to start dinner! Holy cow! Where did the day go? Then I do it again tomorrow.
My work is being sadly neglected. My family is fine. At least my priorities are in line, but good greif, what’s a mama to do? And, I have the sneaking suspicion, it’s only going to get faster and “more” everything…
The sun in the same, in a relative way, but it’s sinking, racing around,to come up behind you again….
Beanie is a “hider”- I’ve written about it before. Remember the butter incident? And the binkies? He’s getting quite a reputation in our family- it’s like having our own personal “Clapper” for everything in our home. If you can’t find it, just ask Eric- he’ll know!
There are some small, uh, problems with this little benefit. Just the other day, while on the phone with Heather O., Beanie made off with a whole loaf of bread, scampered under Abby’s crib, and was hoarding it in the corner. He doesn’t eat things, (unless the things are butter things), just hides them.
So the other day, my husband comes in the kitchen, holding a strange, hard and withered object. “What the heck…?” he trails off, “This was under the bed…”
In his hands is a chicken sandwich from McDonalds. It was perfectly dried out, hard as a rock, and still wrapped in it’s yellow paper wrapper. Several days previous, I had made a desperate segue into the drive-through of our local Mickey-D’s, grabbing lunch for all they Monkeys. When we got home, I unpacked everything on the table, and went to grab ketchup from the fridge.
We sat down to eat, and I was exasperated when I realized they had, once again, screwed up our order, and forgotten Jeffrey’s chicken sandwich, mayo, no “leaves” (his codeword for lettuce). I shared my hamburger with him, and promptly forgot about it.
Evidently, Beanie is not only a hoarder, he is a fast, sneaky hoarder. And, I need to clean under the beds a little more often!
Poppies are quite possibly my favorite flower. Sometimes I think it’s Peonies, but poppies are so much less fussy than peonies…
Newborn babies have always reminded me of poppies- the way they are all folded up, soft and tender, with creases and wrinkles from being inside, safe and protected, and how they gradually unfurl with time, revealing splendid, unimagined beauty.
Besides, my kids, in a perfectly innocent mispronounciation, call peonies “the penis flowers”. Yes, poppies are my favorite…
Last year, on this day, we did the exact same thing as we did today! How predictable and boring are we??! Beanie’s birthday just happens to fall on the County Fair here in Washington, and so that’s what we do to celebrate.
This year was substantially more pleasant for Mama, since I wasn’t fighting early morning sickness and running from the Alpaca exhibit to barf. The small things really are what make life enjoyable. We spent a small fortune, per normal for any county fair, and DH and I discussed maybe a new tradition for Beanie’s birthday next year. It was wacky to justify spending $3 per ride for crappy little death-trap carnival rides when we are still shaking the Disneyland dust from our shoes- Besides, isn’t petting cows and eating another blue sno-cone enough of a rush?
By the time we got home, tired, dirty and grumpy (some of us), the idea of baking a cake was just too high a bar to hurdle, so I took Beanie to the bakery and let him pick out whatever cake he wanted. He LOVED that idea. Sitting in the fridge is a double layer chocolate red devil cake, chocolate frosting, chocolate ganache coating, topped with Snickers bars and Hershey’s Kisses. Mmmmm. You think I ought to let them eat it before church tomorrow?
The Birthday Fairy is coming tonite- I just sent the DH to the grocery to get balloons and crepe paper, in a last-ditch effort to do something cool. Since he sleeps like a canary, I can’t decorate his bedroom, but I can do the family room.
Our Anniversary is Monday… Seven years. I’m not feeling particularly itchy. What will we do, what will we do… Well, since we didn’t go out tonight, tomorrow is Beanie’s birthday, and Monday is Family Night and a school night, we’ll probably kiss each other passing in the hallway, and call it a day. Ah, romance with little kids around….!
This morning Beanie was playing with Abby, his face about 2 inches from hers, which is his normal distance when doing anything with a baby. Abby reeled back, trying to focus on the attentive, annimated, looming, huge face of her brother, and gave a gigantic sneeze…
Beanie thought this was hillarious, and came to tell me, unaware that I had seen the whole thing from my vantage point right next to them.
“Mama! You see dat??” he gleefully chimed, “Abby…. Abby…. Abby, she…” he pauses, and I can see the wheels turning to come up with the right word…
“Mama! Abby Bless-You’d on me!”
Odds and ends not big enough to make a full idea bloom, but that are happening anyway:
Now that Beanie is potty trained, (did it himself, if you recall, a highly recommend method) I find Naked boy running pell-mell all about the house. See, when he goes pee, he needs to remove, not only his Superman tighties, but also his shorts, shoes, socks and shirt. Why the shirt, too, must come off is a mystery to me, but hey, the kids potty-trained himself- I’m not complaining! The funny thing is, he won’t let me help him get re-dressed- very loud and tantrumesque protests ensue when I try- so he goes around much of the time with his shirt, undies and short on backwards. Or inside out. Or the shoes on the wrong feet. (how do kids stand that?? they all do it, though!) If we’re just hangin at home, I let it slide, because within the next 17 minutes, he will be once again in the potty, emptying his thimble of pee along with his wardrobe, and begging for a Lifesaver for being a big boy. I love my Beanie.
My first Bad Mom moment occured today, all the way to Kindergarten Day 3. The phone rang this morning, as I was sitting down to Mickey Mouse cartoons with Beanie and to feed the Voracious One. Beanie answered the phone before I could get there- “Hewwo!” he chirps into the phone, and I hope it’s someone we know- very next words from his mouth? “My went to Disneyland and rode the Teacups!! Mama’s feedin’ Abs. Bye” and he hands the phone to me… It was the secretary at Jeff’s school, informing me that I did not send a lunch for my son, (and since I was such a bad mother who obviously didn’t care about her poor starving child,) she would be a saint and pay for his HOT lunch, and I could gladly pay her the next day. Ok, so part of that was my little voices, and I only sent him with a “nut-free” snack. Wednesday is early release day at his school, and I figured since they would be out at 12:30, he would have lunch at home! I mean really, how was I supposed to know?? Ugh.
Wasabi Peas rock. Ever had them? Little crunchy, salty, spicy nuggets of goodness. I loooooove them, and keep a bag in my desk for when I need something salty- (all the time)- and nasal clearing (not so much)- and the best part is, the kids hate them, DH doesn’t dig them, so they are ALL mine, Mine, I say!
I have a great excuse not to vacuum now!
Fall is coming! Yay! The color of the sky, the deep, cool azure that hangs out on the edges, the slant of the sunlight, so much lower in the sky and kinder on the eyes- the tiny little tinge of cool when the wind picks up occasionally- I can smell it. And I LOVE IT! My very favorite time of year- give me autumn!
Cooking season is almost upon us- with the change in the weather, I always go all domestic and begin to cook bigtime. Digging out recipes, I head to the markets, pull out the flour mill, begin to make bread again, and glory in my imperfect domesticity. Happy as a pig in mud. Oh, and Google is the best thing ever if there is anything you want a recipe for- anything. I love it.
We don’t have to mow the lawn anymore!! As soon as the first frost, here usually by mid October, the grass slows w….a….y down, and doesn’t need mowing again until spring! Yay! Well, ok , we don’t mow our own lawn. But don’t tell anyone. I have plans for that $$ we usually give the lawn guy…
Over the next few weeks I really need to do some work for my design company- I haven’t had anything new come out since, well, this year at all. I have customers calling me about new designs, and while I have some ideas, none of them are really getting me excited. Everyone knew I was AWOL until Abby was born, but it’s really hard to get back into it still. Finding the time to create with three kids around, instead of two, shouldn’t be that much harder. But it is. I thought Jeff being in school would free up time, but Beanie really is needy, and Abs doesn’t tend to fall asleep on demand, or when it’s convenient. Can’t figure out why, but she doesn’t. *sigh*
We passed the boys’ barber shop today on the way to the market, and Beanie chimes in from the backseat ” Mama! There was my Cutting Office!’ I thought that was a pretty creative way to put it- since he didn’t have the right word. I think I’ll keep him.
Some days, I pop into our local second hand/consignment kids shop, and I find absolutely nothing. Not today, baby! Um, “mother-lode” is the word that comes to mind…
I stopped in on a whim after dropping Jeffrey at school, and I don’t know what’s going on in the universe today, but everything was perfect for me, me personally. All the sizes, all the colors, all the styles, all the seasons, and the complete lack of anyone else in the store. Here is what I scored:
1 Laura Ashley sheet set, pink checks and polka dots. 1 pair of LL Bean snow boots and a new pair of snow pants for Jeff. 2 dresses from The Gap and 2 from Hannah Andersson for Abby. 6 pairs of Gymboree wiggle pants, like new, $2 each (!). 2 shirts and 2 sweaters for Abby. 2 new all cotton sleepers for my chunky girl who fits none of her old stuff anymore, which I noticed this morning when she had elastic marks on her Kankles. 3 long sleeved cotton shirts for the boys.
The most expensive thing on this list was only $4.00! Doin’ a little mama-joy dance… I feel like a bargain queen! Hooray for second hand shopping, and hitting it on just the right day- if I was a gambling mama, I’d go buy a lottery ticket!
Remember when They were spiders a few weeks ago? Remember when I said I was still picking thread from things days later? Really, I still am, but I just don’t say much, I just grump and grumble, checking my clothes before I leave the house for any stray ”webs” and roll the remnants of the Spinnerettes into little knots and toss em away.
Well, tonite, my vacuum had enough. Done. Kaput. Gave up the ghost. Made the ultimate sacrifice. Giving the play room a once over, I headed into the guest room, and before I knew what was happening, yet another spool of thread was flying maniacally across the room, sucked into the twirling voracious rpm’s of the vacuum. Ever seen it? It would be kinda fun, the way the spool bounces across the room and hits the walls, willy-nilly, if only the vacuum wouldn’t then make that awful noise. That horrid noise, followed by the acrid smell of electric things getting too toasty.
In the fraction of a second it took me to kick the kill switch on ol Bessie, she sucked down almost a whole spool of nice, tan, cotton quilting thread. Thick thread, in case you’re not in the know. Rrrrrrrrr Kzkkkkkaaaaaa. Grind. Wheeze. Silence.
The Legend of the Spinnerette’s lives on. Ol’ Bessie has left the building.
Go read this. Just do it.
His friends called him Jimmy D, and he was probably the only Dallas Cowboy football fan in all of New Jersey; he was certainly their most fervent!
Jimmy was born in lower Manhattan, and grew up playing football in the streets of Little Italy. He grew up with two brothers, Anthony and Ritchie. His wife, Marion, remembers meeting Jimmy in 1978, when his team, “Carmine’s Animals” had just won a neighborhood championship. Jimmy’s (perplexing to local New Yorkers) love of the Dallas Cowboys is something he passed onto his three sons, Nicholas, Joseph and James, even going to far as taking them to Dallas to see the team play. The neighborhood kids called him Coach Jimmy- he was very involved in his sons lives, coaching them not only in football, but baseball and basketball as well.
In Lower Manhattan, Jimmy attended St. Joseph’s Elementary School, and went on to Bishop DuBois high school, where he excelled at athletics. After high school, Jimmy decided football would not be his career path, and enrolled in Baruch College, known for it’s business courses as opposed to athletics.
After college, Jimmy and Marion made their home in Manalapan, New Jersey, and Jimmy worked on Wall Street for 14 years as a dealer at Oppenheimer. He joined Cantor Fitzgerald in October 1999 as a USA Bond-broker.
Jimmy was at work in the North Tower on the 106th floor on the morning of September 11, 2001. His brother Anthony was in Tower 2, and was fortunate enough to make it out. Anthony spent days after the attack looking for his brother. Jimmy’s body has never been recovered.
His godson, Robet Netzel, has this to say about his godfather:
Uncle Jim, you are a hero to Aunt Marion and the boys. We miss you so much. We are all in this together to help your family from here on in. I will take your boys under my wing as best as possible. You have been a great inspiration for your boys to be the best that they can be in life and as their coach, you helped make them some of the best players out there. Keep a safe watch over all of your family and shine down on them. Jimmy D, your are the best.
Please take a moment today, or in the next few days, and pause to remember the fine people, such as Jimmy D, who innocently lost their lives five years ago.
This tribute has been written about James V DeBlase as part of the 2,996 Project, a grassroots movement among bloggers to commemorate all of the lives lost in the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001. For more information on the project, or to take part and be assigned a person to commemorate, please visit The 2,996 Project.
You know, while three weeks was a loooong time on one hand, there were still things I wanted to do and friends I wanted to spend time with that just never happened. In quick re-cap before my noodle starts to forget the details, I’m gonna pull a page from Millie’s book, and go for The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly…
The Good:
- My kids had fabulous birthdays, thanks to my family, including a party thrown at my folks house, and the trip to Disneyland. That couldn’t have been a happier thing for them, and I’m glad we went, even with three small kids.
- My brother, Dumber. He is a wonderful parent to my nephew, and was very loving, patient and supportive of my kids, even when they were being difficult. My kids love him as much as I do.
- My cousin Michael was a blessing to me the entire trip… He was like my surrogate husband in Disneyland, helping me with the kids, waiting for me, lugging suitcases, strollers and carseats around for me, holding babies while I tended older kids, waiting with the baby so I could ride things with the others, and just basically being a stand-up, awesome guy.
- We had a barbecue with my dad, and while we ran out of time for the fishing trip I was hoping for, the barbecue reminded me how much I like hanging out with my dad. It was one of the best afternoon’s we spent- just lazy at the park, playing baseball and eating hot dogs. Think of Jimmy Buffet in Cabellas rather than a Hawaiian shirt, and you’ve got my dad.
- I got to hang out with my friend Bek at the park, and meet her new baby and just generally commune with someone I really like. Our Monkey’s played together well, and we clinked our diet Coke’s in satisfaction.
- An educational dinner with Brooke and Michael, which I cannot go into, because this is a family website!
The Bad:
- My youngest brother, Dumb was working a lot, and I didn’t really get to spend much quality time with him. That bums me out, because he and I have always been close, despite the almost 12 years between us.
- I ate WAY too much pizza and Mexican food while there. (Pupusas, baby!) Ugh. But when you can’t get it at home, you stuff yourself, right?
- Air conditioning has spoiled me, and I hate being hot- and it was pretty warm the whole time we were there. Sweaty mama usually makes for a grumpy mama.
- We ran out of time to go swimming at my brother and SIL’s place, which was a hi-light of the last trip.
- Sunburn. Do not, when going to Disneyland, lube up all your babies, then forget yourself! I spent five days being really tender and uncomfortable because of just such a mishap. And now I am peeling. It’s good, though, because my kids are now terrified their skin will fall off if they go outside without the block on!
The Ugly:
- I crashed my folks car. Enough said.
- Doing the above is a guaranteed way to put a kink in the fun for the rest of your vacation. Consider yourself warned.
That about covers it; Now back to your regularly scheduled program…
Dear Jeffrey,
My darling boy, today is your first day of school. Dad came home from work so that we all could take you, as a family, to greet the beginning of your school days, which will now take up much of your life for the next, oh, two decades.
You didn’t care about the future, or were even aware of it, this morning. That is the stuff of grown-ups looking back, or watching the backs of their little red-headed boys heading off into the sunrise. All you cared about was that your backpack was blue, and your new shoes made you run really fast.
You were a little bit nervous, that’s what you said, as we walked to your classroom, you holding your lunchbox in one hand, and my hand in your other. I am keenly aware that it won’t be long before holding mama’s hand will no longer bring comfort, but embarrassment, and I am grateful that this morning was not yet that time.
You will do fine, my lovely son. You are kind-hearted, caring, strong, a big boy who can and does love to help others. You love books and making things, playing with gusto and discovering nature. You are wonderful at communicating what you feel and think, and your dad and I are very proud you are our child.
A few words of advice, while you are still young enough to maybe listen to your mama… Be kind to the other kids. If someone is not nice to you, don’t take it personally- they are the one missing out on your friendship. If there is a kid the others tease, don’t take part, instead, offer to be friends. Say the Pledge of Allegiance each morning, and be grateful that you can do so. Listen to your teacher, but use your own God given mind to think for yourself, too. Use your manners, please. And know that no matter what happens in school or in life, mama and daddy love you, and are here for you.
Getting ready to leave this morning, we practiced where we would meet you after school, we practiced buttoning and unbuttoning your pants on your own, we practiced blowing your own nose; we couldn’t practice for how my heart would feel walking out of the school without your small hand in mine.
I love you sweet boy, and pray for your happiness and joy as you begin your own journey in this life.
Love, Mama
Warning: Poop Chronicles Installment! Floopy tummies vacate now.
One evening, while having dinner in Village Haus in the back corner of Fantasyland, Beanie had a Blow Out. Capital letters, blow out. You know the kind- Where you need a garden hose and a scrub brush to clean the kid up? Yup. One of those.
As Mama, the dooty fell on me (ha ha!) to clean the Bean- even getting him out of the booster chair proved a poopy experience- clumps and rivulets were running down his legs and falling out the back of his diaper. All while everyone tried to enjoy their dinner. Yum!
Thank heaven’s there is a bathroom very near Village Haus, and I lugged my stinking toddler off to the changing stations. The clothing was unsalvagable, and I actually threw away a new pair of khaki shorts and t-shirt. Totally unsalvagable. I suppose I could have tried to wash them out in the sink, and then tried to unclog the pieces of poo that would have been caught in the strainer, but that seems an unkind act for a public restroom in the Happiest Place on Earth. So I tossed them- $20 was worth not picking poo out of a drain.
It took half a box of wipes and a roll of paper-towels to get the poor boy cleaned up. Clean diaper on, changing table wiped down, I went into the diaper bag for a clean outfit, ready to be on our way… what’s this? Where are Beanies clean shorts? And shirt? Oh, egad! NO clothes for him!??
Earlier in the day, I had gone back to the hotel for naps with my two youngest, and had only headed back over to the park after dark. Foolishly, I tempted fate (and lost!) by thinking, hey, we won’t need extra clothes, it’s only for a few hours…
My diaper bag contained one overshirt for Jeffrey and a Onesie for Abby. That’s it. There are now other mama’s waiting for one of the four changing tables, and I have no clothing to put on my boy, but at least he isn’t a stinking poo pot anymore.
There is a mama close to me, and she see’s my predicament. Bless her heart, she offers me some clothes for Beanie. I was just planning to head for Main Street and drop some cash on a new outfit for him, but this mama was so kind as to donate an outfit. I offered her some money for the clothes, but she refused, saying she had been in my spot before, and to just pass them one when I could. She had a little girl…
So, there in the bathroom behind Village Haus, Beanie donned a light blue shirt, and some very fancy, very flowery, very ruffled little shorts. He was positively delighted, and skipped all the way back to the table, proudly showing my family his new outfit.
I wish I had a picture of the table as he bounced up, laughing, skipping, calling for everyone to look at his “pwetty” pants. My brothers were laughing so hard they about choked. He had no clue. And he wore them the rest of the night.
Yesterday, unpacking, I pulled the flowery shorts from the suitcase, and he yelped with delight, tearing off his pants and eagerly pulling on his Pretty Pants. Ah, innocence.
Yes, I let him wear them, and no, my DH doesn’t really care. As long as we don’t leave the house!
Heat and pressure, baby. Heat and pressure.
Now that I can exhale, being at home and all, I feel so relaxed and easy in my skin again. Travelling with kids is hard. I really love my family, and miss getting to see them on a frequent basis, but I sure am glad to be in my own home again.
One of the things most difficult about travelling is my impresssion of the perceptions people have of us. Many of my loved ones only see us once or twice a year, always at someone else’s house, someone else’s rules, and under the duress and stress of travel- and opinions are formed about me and my children based on those interactions. My kids are never on their best behavior when travelling, and I tend to loosen the rules and reins quite a bit- I’ll let things slide while on vacation that would never fly at home. And I’m ok with that.
One of the things I learned on this last trip is I am a more relaxed mother than I thought I was. There are also many ways to succesfully parent- I am not as strict as my siblings, but more so than my cousins. And all of our kids will likely turn out just fine.
Disciplining or offering advice to others about their children is alway touchy, at best. I did a lot of biting my tongue, deciding what was worth standing up for, and what should just slide. I probably didn’t always choose wisely.
It makes me sad that there are members of my family I will probably never be close to. If this is because of circumstance or situation or choice, I couldn’t say. There is a lot I can’t say.
Sometimes I just feel like the deck is stacked against me.
Heat and pressure, heat and pressure…
Maybe it’s a mark of being a real, finally-made-it grown up, but there really is no place like home… (Despite the fact I still feel like a kid masquerading as a Mama much of the time…) Never have I been so happy to see anything as I was seeing my own living room last night, as we traipsed in- trailing luggage, flashing, twirling, sparkling Disneyland souvenirs and stinking bags of hot food. I am home! Home at last!
My husband is stuffed on Jakes pizza, La Bamba burritos and Togo’s #9 subs. We have enough food for a week, I’m totally not kidding. I packed and checked an extra suitcasewith nothing but food for my husband- there was no way I was risking the guacamole on the burritos being considered a “liquid” and losing them at security. As it was, they took my new tube of Desitin, and I had to throw out a new bottle of Triaminic kids cold medicine. Just check everything, if you’re travelling soon- it’s SO much the hassle.
First, a few words about Disneyland….
All in all, it was a good trip. Minus a few tense moments due in any group of ten people, we had a pretty good time. It was hotter than blazes, and humid, and we all got sunburned- note to the wise: SPF 50 does no good on non-fat-milk-white redheads. Travelling with three kids, the oldest of whom turned 5 while we were in Disneyland, taught me a few things….
First: Invest in a good stroller! It really is worth the extra cash. What constitutes a “good” stroller for each mama is different, but for starters, wheels that roll easily and handles the proper height for your arms are a good. After day one, I 86′ed the Peg Perego I had borrowed, and happily dropped $129 bucks on some new wheels at Target. And I would do it again tomorrow for how much grief and agony it saved us… Anyone need a barely used “Sit and Stand” duo stroller? Cheap?! Includes genuine Disneyland dirt and maybe some popcorn, too!
Second: When in Disneyland, find the nearest Target! There is one about 1/2 mile down Harbor Blvd, and they open at 8 a.m. every day. We saved so stinkin’ much money by making our own PBJ’s and taking our own bottles of water into the Park. A PBJ at the spaceport in Tomorrowland is $5.99. We were in Disneyland five days, so on lunch for each of my boys, I saved $60!! And, we bought three cases (yes, cases- it was HOT!) of bottled water, and just loaded up the stroller baskets with them- and at $2.98 per bottle in the Park, I can’t even to the math on that one! So hit Target. You’ll be ever so glad you did!
Third: If you are in Disneyland with babies or toddlers, know about the Baby Center; end of Main Street on the right, behind the corn dog cart and next to the first-aid station. Heaven on earth, those ladies are! This is a free, totally stocked, totally staffed wonder center for haggard hot mama’s and the kids that torture them. Air conditioned, quiet, a free kitchen if you need to fix some food for baby, high chairs, a cool and quiet nursing lounge, banks of changing tables, sinks supplies, and small, toddler-size potties if your 2 year-old is still just learning. The also have a TV area, toys and a giant Lego table for your older kids to keep busy while you feed baby, and they show, what else (?), Disney movies. I spent many an hour in there, cooling my jets and recharging ourselves for the long evening ahead.
Fourth: Disneyland is the best place on earth for a turning-five boy to have his birthday, and you can quote me. If your kid is having a birthday while at the Park, stop in at city hall on Mail Street, and they will give your child a button to wear for the day, proclaiming to everyone It’s My Birthday! Not sure what they do to the cast members, but everyone who passed us, helped us or otherwise noticed us wished Jeffrey a Happy Birthday, and always by name! On the rides, the opperators would announce with their loud speaker that Jeffrey was turing five today, and some would clap, some would sing- he felt about 15 feet tall.
The night of Jeffrey’s birthday, I left him at the park with my family while I went back to the hotel with Eric and Abby, who badly needed some sleep, and my cousin Michael. Jeffrey got to make all the calls on rides and activities for the night- and Grandma took him shopping for some special birthday goodies. He chose Pirates, Big Thunder Mountain, Peter Pan, Pinocchio, Dumbo and Alice in Wonderland.
When they trudged back to the hotel, I have never seen such a happy child as Jeffrey was that night. He had his mouse ears on, riding in the Sit-n-Stand stroller, surrounded by packages, sun-kissed, freckled, holding a pirate sword and hook my brother Dumb gave him, glowing with pride and happiness. He jumped from the stroller and ran to me: “Mama! This was the BEST BIRTHDAY EVER!”
As I wiped some tears from the corner of my eyes, all the heat, hassle and tension fell away, and I experienced a moment of pure joy with my oldest child.
Mission accomplished.
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