The most important thing to note about this "sundae" is that not a scoop was eaten. We love the idea of eating ice cream, but the act of eating ice cream . . . not so much.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
The Mad Scientist
The most important thing to note about this "sundae" is that not a scoop was eaten. We love the idea of eating ice cream, but the act of eating ice cream . . . not so much.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Watch out, meat. She'll chew you up.
Is it ironic that Sophia ate 13 mini corn dogs at Animal Kingdom? The park claims to "reflect Walt Disney's dedication to nature and conservation, and in doing so, leads the way in animal care, education and research."
They should add carnivory to that list.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Magic of Disney
A Disney "vacation" takes months to plan, days to experience and years to blog about. We were blessed to have Grammy and Poppy along to enjoy a week long stay - traveling by plane! - to a hotel! - on Disney property! - eating out at every meal! - taking a bus to every park! - riding the attractions!
But let's talk about those things later and focus now on the things M proclaimed as "Awesome!"
1. The street sweeper in the hotel parking lot.
2. The straw dispenser.
3. Calling his sisters from the hotel phone in Grammy and Poppy's adjoining room.
Forget about the "magical experience" Disney professes your children will have as they see fireworks boom over the Epcot lake. For us, those fireworks happened 2.5 hours after our bedtime, when it was "too dark" and "too loud" according to S. She demanded to watch the show with my hands over her ears.
On our 3rd day, we visited Animal Kingdom. It was the coolest "zoo" ever. We took a safari. We saw a baby elephant. It smelled. The rhinos smelled worse. We touched a snake. It was super much fun. In the afternoon, the Salad played "Whack-a-mole." It was so hot. They were so tired. They kept missing those crafty moles by a split second. They played for 6 minutes before any of them hit a mole, scoring a measly 10 points. They had to make it to 150 points before anyone won. A realized they had a long way to go. She started sobbing, banging the same mole hole over and over again, moaning that the bat was too heavy. The girl working the game stared at A with a sad look, clutching her heart, shouting words of encouragement. I stood behind A and laughed at the hilarity of it all. It may have been my favorite Disney moment.
After a dinner at an "African" buffet, we saw a 4" long lizard on a table outside of the restaurant. The Salad tried to pet it. I think they scared and/or confused it. The lizard jumped from the chair onto M's forehead. It took refuge behind M's right ear, clinging to it with his tail. M was simultaneously thrilled and terrified, red-faced, laughing and screaming to get the "yizard" off. I couldn't help, because again, I was laughing too hard.
Something is wrong with me.
And even though S was too short by 1/8" to ride Test Track, she probably had the best time. Ironically, she was the one most resistant to the trip before we left, telling anyone who would listen that she was "a little scared of the characters." And yet, when she saw them - say, in a parade - she waved her little hands wildly, screaming for whoever it was, blowing kisses, grabbing my shirt to shout in my face "They saw me! They waved right at me! They LOVE me!"
And that, my friends, is truly the magic of Disney.
But let's talk about those things later and focus now on the things M proclaimed as "Awesome!"
1. The street sweeper in the hotel parking lot.
2. The straw dispenser.
3. Calling his sisters from the hotel phone in Grammy and Poppy's adjoining room.
Forget about the "magical experience" Disney professes your children will have as they see fireworks boom over the Epcot lake. For us, those fireworks happened 2.5 hours after our bedtime, when it was "too dark" and "too loud" according to S. She demanded to watch the show with my hands over her ears.
On our 3rd day, we visited Animal Kingdom. It was the coolest "zoo" ever. We took a safari. We saw a baby elephant. It smelled. The rhinos smelled worse. We touched a snake. It was super much fun. In the afternoon, the Salad played "Whack-a-mole." It was so hot. They were so tired. They kept missing those crafty moles by a split second. They played for 6 minutes before any of them hit a mole, scoring a measly 10 points. They had to make it to 150 points before anyone won. A realized they had a long way to go. She started sobbing, banging the same mole hole over and over again, moaning that the bat was too heavy. The girl working the game stared at A with a sad look, clutching her heart, shouting words of encouragement. I stood behind A and laughed at the hilarity of it all. It may have been my favorite Disney moment.
After a dinner at an "African" buffet, we saw a 4" long lizard on a table outside of the restaurant. The Salad tried to pet it. I think they scared and/or confused it. The lizard jumped from the chair onto M's forehead. It took refuge behind M's right ear, clinging to it with his tail. M was simultaneously thrilled and terrified, red-faced, laughing and screaming to get the "yizard" off. I couldn't help, because again, I was laughing too hard.
Something is wrong with me.
And even though S was too short by 1/8" to ride Test Track, she probably had the best time. Ironically, she was the one most resistant to the trip before we left, telling anyone who would listen that she was "a little scared of the characters." And yet, when she saw them - say, in a parade - she waved her little hands wildly, screaming for whoever it was, blowing kisses, grabbing my shirt to shout in my face "They saw me! They waved right at me! They LOVE me!"
And that, my friends, is truly the magic of Disney.
Friday, April 29, 2011
A stitch or nine
The Friday before Easter, S and I were cleaning dishes in the kitchen sink, when a terrific wail came from the preschool room. I waited to see if it was A's dramatic nature or true pain. When M started screaming, I took off running. I passed M, crying, on the stairs. He looked like he had seen a ghost. I found A kneeling with her back to me. When she turned around, blood was streaming from a huge gash on her forehead, covering her shirt, skirt, face, hair. It was as gruesome as this scene from Carrie. I grabbed the phone, ran to the bathroom for a wet washcloth and dialed R as I pressed on the wound.
He was 1 hour and 20 minutes away.
It was dinner time and the Salad was hungry.
I knew A needed stitches.
I called Aunt Jen and asked her to meet me at the hospital.
I regrouped and started barking orders to M and S. M was paralyzed with fear and hysterical, begging me not to take A to the hospital. Every time he screamed, A screamed harder. I finally told him he had to go downstairs until he was calm so I could focus my attention on A. S calmed herself down by taking a few deep breaths and asked me what she could do. She ran and got a new shirt for her sister, she packed up cheese sticks and fruit bars for "hospital" snacks. She got everyone's drinks and jackets by the front door. She gathered up books for the waiting room. M had finally stopped sobbing and came to see how he could help. He got me a fresh rag and band aid. I am so thankful for helpful kids. You know, once they stop hyperventilating.
A had stopped crying by the time we got to the car. My sister met us in the ER parking lot and took the other 2 for dinner. A cuddled and snacked and charmed the heck outta every person she came into contact with.
Stranger: "Oh no! How did you hurt your head?"
A: "I was playing horsie and galloped into the desk."
Stranger: "Aaaaawwwww!"
She didn't shed a tear when the doctor cleaned the cut with numbing cream or gave her six shots of Novocaine or 9 stitches. She told them a joke as the sewed her forehead.
A: "How do you make a tissue dance?"
Doctor: "I don't know. How?"
A: "Put a little boogie in it."
That's my girl.
He was 1 hour and 20 minutes away.
It was dinner time and the Salad was hungry.
I knew A needed stitches.
I called Aunt Jen and asked her to meet me at the hospital.
I regrouped and started barking orders to M and S. M was paralyzed with fear and hysterical, begging me not to take A to the hospital. Every time he screamed, A screamed harder. I finally told him he had to go downstairs until he was calm so I could focus my attention on A. S calmed herself down by taking a few deep breaths and asked me what she could do. She ran and got a new shirt for her sister, she packed up cheese sticks and fruit bars for "hospital" snacks. She got everyone's drinks and jackets by the front door. She gathered up books for the waiting room. M had finally stopped sobbing and came to see how he could help. He got me a fresh rag and band aid. I am so thankful for helpful kids. You know, once they stop hyperventilating.
A had stopped crying by the time we got to the car. My sister met us in the ER parking lot and took the other 2 for dinner. A cuddled and snacked and charmed the heck outta every person she came into contact with.
Stranger: "Oh no! How did you hurt your head?"
A: "I was playing horsie and galloped into the desk."
Stranger: "Aaaaawwwww!"
She didn't shed a tear when the doctor cleaned the cut with numbing cream or gave her six shots of Novocaine or 9 stitches. She told them a joke as the sewed her forehead.
A: "How do you make a tissue dance?"
Doctor: "I don't know. How?"
A: "Put a little boogie in it."
That's my girl.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Magic - 1, Catholicism - 0
I've been trying to explain what Easter is about to the Salad. Besides chocolate bunnies and egg hunts, that is. I've not used the specific terms, Crucifixion and Resurrection. But I've done the best I can. Apparently, my best is not good enough. During prayers last night, S asked R if he knew God was magic, because he was able to "make his baby son alive again." God - akin to The Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus. 
As further proof that we may be lacking in the Catechism area, M asked at Mass on Easter morning if the "Peter" the priest was talking about was Peter Pan. There was also some jealousy when A and M remember that only the adults get "candy" from the priest.
Gah. Wait till I try to explain the whole host-as-the-body-of-Christ-thing.
As further proof that we may be lacking in the Catechism area, M asked at Mass on Easter morning if the "Peter" the priest was talking about was Peter Pan. There was also some jealousy when A and M remember that only the adults get "candy" from the priest.Gah. Wait till I try to explain the whole host-as-the-body-of-Christ-thing.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Egg-speriment
My sister asked me to watch my wonderful 11 year old nephew yesterday and Monday. I was a little nervous, wanting to do things that Ian would enjoy, that were still feasible with 3 - 4 year olds. He's a smart kid, my nephew, so I thought he might enjoy doing a little Easter-related science experiment. We started the day off by boiling a pot of red cabbage, a pot of spinach, a pot of dill, a pot of turmeric and a pot of beets. Then I asked Ian, after looking at the water we were left with, to write down what color he thought hard boiled eggs would turn out if we used that water for egg dye. If you decide to try it, you're in for a real surprise with the red cabbage! Also if you decide to try it, be forewarned, open your windows. It's a little . . . um . . . stinky.
We had a day jam-packed full of fun, walking to the super market to pick our own pizza toppings, exploring a pond, going to a super cool playgroup (it had trains!) and then chasing down the ice cream truck.
Whew. Off to figure out Monday!
We had a day jam-packed full of fun, walking to the super market to pick our own pizza toppings, exploring a pond, going to a super cool playgroup (it had trains!) and then chasing down the ice cream truck.Whew. Off to figure out Monday!
Hog Heaven
About 2 months ago, as they drove pass the Harley-Davidson store, my brother-in-law made casual mention to M that "Maybe Aunt Jen will bring you to the motorcycle store tomorrow when she takes Ian to buy his new bike." Unfortunately, the Harley-Davidson store is en route to our library, so each Tuesday M has asked "Is today tomorrow, Mommy?" When my sister heard this, she raced over after work on a Friday evening and off they went to the motorcycle store. Apparently, Harley-Davidson is a hidden gem for the preschool set. M had free reign of the store, several store employees outfitting him with helmets and gloves, before perching him atop any bike he wanted. They shoved gobs of free Harley key chains into his hot little fists. They sent him on his way with the 2011 Road Guide and 2 GIANT orange balloons. My sister said when he sat on the bikes, M was still as a statue, soaking in every word the sales guy told him about the helmet vs. no helmet debate.
(please note - this is NOT a Harley)I see a Hog in our future.
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