Happy Happy Joy Joy

Last week my husband and I decided to surprise our kids with a trip to Disneyland during the Spring Break week.

And surprised they were.

"Oh my God!" our oldest kept saying. Even with our insisting she say "goodness", she was just too beside herself to adhere to the rules of etiquette. "I can't believe we are going to Disneyland tomorrow!" she exclaimed. And our younger daughter stated "that's the best surprise EVER."

Perhaps we should have just stayed in that blissful state and not actually gone on the trip.

Nah.

So we packed ourselves in the car and made the 8 hour trip down South. Of course not before some last minute panicking to move the trip departure up one day due to some expected rains in Anaheim. But we did make it out of the house at 8am and we were in the Disneyland park before 4pm.

Not bad for our brood.

That first afternoon was a little bit hellish. We were overwhelmed by it all and didn't know where to start. But after lots of sugar snacks and finally getting our oldest on a ride we were all off and running.

We hit as many rides and attractions as we could squeeze into 17 hours in that park. Our 2nd day was by far the most productive as we took on the "divide and conquer" approach and got our oldest on plenty of rides and roller coasters, while keeping the younger ones happy with repeat visits to Buzz Lightyear's ride.

So long as you don't mind eating fried, greasy, sugary or fatty foods and standing in line for about half of your allotted park time (with and without the kids, for your own sanity) then I think you could really spend more time at that park then we allowed. We didn't get to a lot of the rides that would have been fun to visit, but then again, there's always next time.

A couple of the wildest rides for our family took place after we left the park and went back to our hotel. Remember how I mentioned our last minute change to leave a day early? Well that led to us only being able to book a smoking room at our hotel, lest we stay at a different hotel or lose one night's deposit.

Mental note if that ever happens again: we'll just stay at a different hotel and/or lose the money.

Upon walking up to our room our oldest found the right number and said "There it is! But why does it say "smoking" under the number?" I then try to set realistic expectations and say "well it's a room where they allow people to smoke so it will probably smell a little bit..." and then my husband pipes in and says "now we don't know that it'll be bad so don't put that in their heads..." and then we open the door.

"Jesus Christ! That's disgusting!" my husband exclaims. Way to go daddy. Nice management of the expectations.

Immediately I plug in the air freshener that I brought and start burning candles. While we are all adjusting to the overpowering smell and trying to keep in mind that the room really is clean, even if it doesn't smell like it, our daughters start fighting about who gets the sofa bed. Even with a queen size hide-a-bed, the girls don't want to share. Our benevolent middle child volunteers to sleep on cushions on the floor. Meanwhile our son is doing the same thing in the bedroom where we will sleep.

After a brief episode of tears from our younger daughter, while she says over and over "I want to go home", we finally get them all to sleep.

Overtired is understated.

In the morning we all shower and get out of that stinky room as fast as possible. We pack up, leave our stuff at the front desk in anticipation of our non-smoking room for that night, and head to breakfast. As we are leaving the hotel I try to pump everyone into a good mood by saying "Okay guys, today is all about fun. Today is happy happy joy joy! Right!?" and a guy walking past us just smirks as he sees our small army make our way to the land of Mickey.

After a long day of crazy fun, our next wild ride was still ahead of us as we got back to the hotel that night. Again, it was a long, exhausting and overstimulating day, so we were really happy to enter our clean room, that even smelled clean this time.

We start to settle in and I decide to partake in the chocolate chip cookies that the hotel gave us when we checked in. My oldest grabs one and takes a bite, but then says "Yuck! It has nuts!" and puts it down. But my younger two and I decide that the nuts are okay and we munch away.

Almost immediately my son says his upper lip hurts. I figure he must have bit it and I pretty much blow it off, trying to offer him some juice to get his mind off it.

He then says "That doesn't help....see? {insert long sip here} It still hurts!"

Then he starts to really cry. I'm not real sure what's up with him, but I figure he must just be overtired.

Then I see that his upper lip is starting to swell. And the tears won't stop. Then the drool starts running down his chin. When I say "where does it hurt?" he just points to his throat.

Uh-oh.

I now alert the husband and we bring him into the bathroom where I can get a good look at him.

Since my son has so much saliva that's building up in his mouth because he's avoiding swallowing, he can't help but inhale some while he's crying. Which then brings on the gagging. And his upper lip is only getting bigger.

Now panic sets in. I tell my husband that I think he's having a reaction to something. He goes and gets the cookie wrapper and says there are walnuts in the cookies.

Now you should know that my son eats nuts all the time. His favorite drug snack mix has peanuts in it. He's addicted to the stuff.

But then I realize that I don't think he's ever had walnuts. We have a nut mix at home that he eats too, but he sticks to the cashews mostly. And that mix, to the best of my recollection, doesn't have walnuts.

My husband then says "I'm not messing around with this" and he picks up the phone and calls 9-1-1. He explains to the dispatch operator what's going on, making it clear that our son can breathe fine, as evidenced by the persistent crying. But since his lips are getting bigger and the gagging is also persisting, they send out the Calvary.

Then the manager of the hotel meanders up to our room, apparently alerted that we called 911. I tell him the scenario and together we walk down to the lobby with my son to meet the ambulance.

But much to my delight, we are greeted in the lobby by a full size fire truck. Lights spinning, sirens blaring.

By this time my son has calmed down and is in awe of the big fire truck. And I'm feeling a little silly for all of this fuss when he seems to now be getting better, not worse.

Three fire men and a medic come in and take a look at my son.

So you see, it's just another ordinary day for me, hanging out in the lobby of a hotel with a bunch of young fire men.

In the end, he was fine. Lungs were clear and no hives. Just seriously fat lips and a light rash on his face. And of course the throat thing, which seemed to subside pretty fast after he calmed down.

And while all this was going on I couldn't help but think that I always knew our first call to 911 would be because of our son. I just figured it would be because of something he did, not because of something we had any hand in.

The medic offered a shot of benedryll, but I remembered that we had some antihistamine in the room, so we just went back up and gave him some drugs.

It did take about 12 hours for his lips to go back to normal. But the next day, including the car ride home, was relatively uneventful.

And returning to our smoke-free, walnut-free, line-free, low-sugar, high-comfort home after all that craziness was what I would definitely call happy happy joy joy.

Rocky Mountain High

It's time for a much overdo post about our trip out to Colorado a couple weeks ago. Too bad you can't read minds, because this has actually been written for about that length of time, I just never got it to my fingertips.

Around this time last year, all of our friends and kids of friends seemed to go on a trip for what this area calls their "ski week". The week of President's Day has become a sort of holiday week for the bay area. I guess they figured so many kids were out of school because they were up in the mountains skiing that they'd just build it into our district schedule. Officially it's called "Mid Winter Break" but word on the street is "ski week". So, since last year everyone had up and left for snow, or sun, I decided we wouldn't be left behind this year. And alas, the time came and we up and went to Denver to visit my sister and her husband and kids.

It was well worth the advance planning.

First and foremost, it needs to be noted that my little family of five is now plane-worthy. Our last airplane trip together was last summer, and it was notably a bit easier at that time. This time was like a little slice of heaven. My husband and I found ourselves looking at each other and shrugging quite a bit. The now-what-do-we-do-to-keep-ourselves-entertained shrug. You see, neither of us had planned on having "free time" on the plane. Which, for any adults travelling without young kids, is all you have when you fly. But for us, family flying has always been filled with how-do-we-keep-the-little-one-entertained moments.

I'm proud to say we've passed a bit of a threshold in our family. It held true on both flights. All the kids were entertained and my husband and I were digging through the seat back pockets and reading the airline magazine and catalogue. We obviously weren't prepared for this phenomenon. The details are such that we barely even noticed our 8 year old was along for the ride, she was so self sufficient with her own bag of goodies. I think her favorite part was plugging in her headphones to the airplane stereo and watching Cake Boss on the airplane TV. Now you know you've passed some sort of barrier when your oldest likes to watch the same shows as you. And our younger daughter was happy with her puzzle books or the DVD player.

And then there was our son. The one we banked on to take up all our time.

Not so. He was fabulous. In fact, on the way home he was perfectly happy to sit and watch Dora on my phone for almost an hour stretch at one point. He occasionally wanted to get up and walk around a bit, so we happily obliged him. And other than that, he was content playing with his cars or watching a show in his seat.

Hence the magazine time for mom and dad. It was a thing of beauty.

Now, on to the real beauty. The Rocky Mountains. We didn't know it at the time, but we hit perfect weather. It snowed the whole time we were there.

Some people might think perfect weather is clear and sunny skies. But we Californians get that quite a bit. What my kids wanted to see, and me too for that matter, was the white stuff. The 'stuff' that always amazes me how much room it can take up and how beautiful it can make things look. And all it is is frozen water.

After our meet and greet in Denver with my sister and family, we all packed up the cars and went to the mountains for 3 nights. We had a great place to stay, thanks to my husband's friend, with a sledding hill behind the house and the ski mountain a 20 minute drive away. And the shopping outlets only 5 minutes away, which truth be told, my sister and I hit on our last morning there.

My girls went through a roller coaster of emotions with regards to the actual skiing. Want to, don't want to, hot, cold, had a blast, too tired. You name it, they spewed forth it all. But in the end, we all had an incredible time.

My husband and I got the girls out there for two days of skiing. We decided this year that we'd go with them ourselves and see if their skills could further along a bit faster than a group lesson, where they spend a lot of time waiting in line. We had a lot of fun spending real quality time with each of them.

We heard the squeal with excitement as they started to go faster. We listened and attended to their concerns. We got them over some humps of anxiety.

And our legs will never be the same.

Their reward during the day was frequent stops in the lodge for candy. And our reward at night was a hot tub with a cold beer.

We also frequently explored the hill behind the house with tubing and sledding, chasing each other down the hill. And we built a little snow man. And to boot, I didn't have to coordinate dinner. I was just the helper. Thank you sis.

It's fun to just be a kid for a while.

After our exhausted broods went to sleep, the four of us adults hung out chatting and playing cards. Truth be told, if the TV wasn't in the room that two kids were sleeping in, we would have been vegging out in front of the Olympics. But instead, we had the pleasure of enjoying each other's company. Another unexpected surprise.

The trip had a lot of favorite moments.

Watching my kids catch snowflakes on their tongues.

Hearing "that was awesome!" after getting off a chairlift with my daughter.

Watching my kids have a blast playing with their cousins.

Enjoying the scenic beauty of the Rockies right out our window.

Getting 22 points in one hand of cribbage. If you have to ask, assume it's good.

Hearing "that was awesome!" after my younger daughter went down the hill on her own tube.

Getting in a little shopping with my sister.

Watching the beauty of snow falling. Something I haven't seen a lot in the last 7 years.

All in all, I'd have to agree with my daughters' sentiments.

That was awesome.

Life's Simple Pleasures

Yet again I am reminded to buy more Mega Millions lottery tickets. Because even though the best things in life are pretty simple - spending time with friends and family being number one on the list - they don't always come free. Or cheap.

There is just no replacement for good friends and family. And since some of ours aren't nearby, we'd need to win some sort of small fortune to be able fly our family of five out to see them as often as we'd like.

Last weekend we returned from our summer vacation and ran smack dab into back-to-school week. So I apologize for being off-line for so long; it's not my preference, but it is a necessity at times. I have had to resist the urge to sit at the computer and chew through several hours, doing things like blogging, so that I can use that precious time to gear our family up for the new school year.

Two weeks ago we started the trip off with the suburbs of Philadelphia where my husband's parents both grew up, and subsequently it's the land of aunts and uncles. And all of them are Italian. Which means we heard rounds of "you're so skinny!" to my husband from all his doting aunts, who to this day probably think all we keep in our kitchen is a bottle of ketchup and hence I am depriving him of home-cooked meals.

So they proceed to try to make up for it all in one night. No kidding. The amount of food that went through the kitchen in one night was astounding. Not to mention the amount of people. Three aunts, an uncle, and multitudes of cousins, second cousins, and friends. And it was all wonderful; the abundance of food and family mixed together to create this amazing sense of security and warmth.

It really struck me on this trip just how important my husband's family is to him. It was a joy to watch them all swoon over him and our kids. Those Italian folks in the Philly area are some really good people.

From there we went out to beautiful Lake Anna in Virginia. We stayed with our good friends who were wonderful hosts to our not-so-small, not-so-quiet, not-so-good-at-sleeping-in brood. They even had a built in babysitter in their oldest son; the sweetest 13 year old kid you ever did see.

Much like last year, we spent time floating around the lake with a variety of water toys. My younger daughter discovered her love of the water and honestly spent more time in a life vest than out of it over the 7 days. She'd just bob to and fro in the water, from this person to that person, and sometimes just around in circles all by herself. I think she loved the independence of it all.

The week's highlight for my oldest was playing with her friend that she reconnected with after a long year apart. They took off from the word "hello" and were never apart for the next 7 days. Her friend even inspired her to conquer her fears and get up on water skis for the first time. She made momma proud!

And our son loved going out on the boat in the middle of the lake and saying "now go swimming?" every time we stopped to change people on the wakeboard, waterskis or water tube. And indeed, we did go swimming out in the middle of the lake, everyone floating around in their life vests. Apparently he needs 40 feet of water to really have fun; he always likes to push things to the limit so I guess it should be no surprise.

Our son also mastered the word "again!" as he insisted my husband throw him up in the air over the water countless times. Unfortunately he also showed us that he has mastered the words "dammit....gah dammit...." as he muttered them right in the spot where daddy would have said them if he had been the one cleaning up a mess. But instead it was my silence that he got (after an exasperated exclamation of his name), so he decided to fill in the blanks for me and dad with the chosen "bad words". Thoughtful little guy doing daddy's work for him.

I don't think I really have to mention just how special this time was to us. We were able to reconnect with family and friends that mean so much to our little family of five. To us, it's the most meaningful and rewarding way we can spend our time.

And though a year has passed since we'd last seen our friends at their house on the lake, it seemed as if it had only been a few weeks. That's the beauty of truly great friendships; they sustain and subsist over years and miles. Even when there are so many miles that the visits become too far and few between over the years.

All in all, you can see how simple our trip was. No amusement rides. No parking lots. No email and no cell phone.

For one week this summer we were once again wire free, screen free, media free and of course, care free.

Life's simple pleasures.

It's a Stretch

It's Mother's Day once again.  A perfect time for me to come out of hiding and log back into the blogosphere.

It's funny, because this day is supposed to be about me.  Well not me, but us; the mothers of the world.  But what it always turns into is a sweet reminder of how precious my kids are to me.  I'm guessing it might do the same for most of the mothers out there as well.

Because we all know that we aren't mothers without our children.  So how could this day possibly be only about us?  And even if you don't have your own kids, know that your mom is probably getting a big smile on her face today while she is thinking about you and how you've made her a better person.

I know that's the case for me.  My kids continue to challenge me every day.  They do things that require me to stretch beyond my comfort zone, or they act in a way that calls for more patience and understanding than I ever knew I had in me. And in fact, sometimes I don't have it in me. But either way, that's a wonderful thing.  Moving beyond your self-imposed boundaries so that you can be who you need to be for someone else.  And when you come back into your safe place, when it's time for some quality "alone time", you'll be a better person than before you had to deal with all that spilled milk.

However, the flip side of all that growth is the exhaustion.  When you have young kids you end up doing a lot of stretching, molding and general bending over backwards.  And it makes you quite sore.  It's that ache like you get after a good work out.  You hurt, but it's a good hurt.  You know you did something good, and that you'll be stronger for it.  However in the meantime you really just want to sit down and rest.  And besides, you are getting all kinds of mental and emotional stretch marks, not to mention the physical ones.  

And it's that very raw tiredness that makes us wish the time away.  But we only get one time in our lives when our kids are little and they look at us like we can do no wrong.  When all it takes to make the tears stop is a kiss from mommy.  Or when they cry when we leave them, as if their oxygen is being cut off and their life just isn't any fun without us.  Because really, right now, it isn't.  And that will not always be the case.

So on days like today, I will once again pledge to live in the MOMent.  I promise to do my best to:

Play more peek-a-boo and less hiding at the computer.

Be more loving and understanding in those moments of total chaos, when all I really want to do is scream "EVERYONE JUST SHUT UP!".

Give a deep, soulful, I-love-you-from-the-tip-of-my-toes-to-the-top-of-my-head hug to my kids as often as I possibly can.  Especially since one day soon they won't want them as frequently and I almost miss them already.

Put more sunscreen on their freckled noses.

Listen to what they are saying when they aren't talking.

Join in their carefree play as often as I can, trying my best to ignore that voice in my head telling me I have so many other responsibilities that I am not getting done because I am having a pretend birthday party for a stuffed animal.

So hug your mother today.  Or talk to her.  Or pray to her.  And know that you helped bring joy into her life that never would have been there without you.

Feel the Love

My son is finally able to say what seems like hundreds of words.  

Of course that doesn't stop him from his signature screams, but they do seem to be reverberating a little less often lately.

And now, as of a week ago, he can spontaneously put two words together as well.  I should preface this with the fact that he has often said something similar to "I want" before a word, but it sounded more like "eewa" and he would sort of run it right into the word it was in front of, making it sound like one long word; "eewamilt".  And he sort of lilts his voice in there to make everything sound a bit like a Native American Indian tribal name.  Nonetheless, that could probably be considered the beginnings of his verbal sayings.  

But it wasn't nearly as sweet as the spontaneous one that popped up a little while later. 

It was about a week ago when we were all in the car on our way home from a weekend outing.  I handed him a lollipop, as per his request after we had picked out some treats at the store.  Then I turned around and said "Can you say 'thank you'?"  He hadn't said it yet, but I figured if nothing else, a lollipop sure would warrant it.

And he said "tay koo mama."  

I tell you, it made my heart melt and my eyes tear.  My little guy not only finally said "thank you", but he put the "mama" on there, just to remind me how smart and lovable he is.  

Then a day or two later he added on to his new tricks.  My husband was leaving for work and I asked him "can you say bye-bye?" 

And he said "bye bye dada."

We always have to let Dad know that he isn't forgotten.

Then the next phrase came a day after that, true to his little red monster-loving ways, I was getting him cereal for breakfast and he said "elmo poon," requesting his new favorite utensil.  

Now Elmo can feel as loved as mom and dad.

But wait.  The love doesn't stop there.  I have to add in a couple more cute stories.  Just because I love my kids that much.  And apparently they feel the same way about me.

The other day, in the middle of a rather ordinary afternoon while we were doing not very much at all, my oldest daughter looked up at me and said "have I ever told you how lucky I am to have you as my mom?" 

What?  Does it get any better?  

Why yes, it does.  She then wrapped her sweet little arms around my middle for a big hug just to hit it all home.  So then I knelt down and gave her a super big hug.

But it doesn't stop there.  Then my younger daughter came up to us and said "I love you too" and joined in on the hug.  

I know what you are thinking.  How could it get any better?  But there's more.  

Not to be outdone, my son then joined the big hug, and soon we were all covered in ooey gooey love all over.

PURE BLISS.  

Those are the moments in my life as a mother that make it all worthwhile.  The seven years of diapers, restless nights, scraped knees, and plentiful bodily fluids and wastes.  The thankless hours of laundry, driving to school, grocery shopping, clothes shopping, picking up from school, shoe buying, driving to activities, snack and lunch making, driving to more activities, and shoe returning.  And then driving home.

Like they say in golf, you live for the game because of that once in a while great shot.  That one long drive that sails straight to the green and sets itself up for the perfect putt.  All those other lousy shots are worthwhile because of how great it feels when you hit "the one".  In fact, I think you could say that about a lot of things in life.

Now I will close out this lovefest with some more sticky oozing sweetness for your reading pleasure.  (I guess it's appropriate that we are still in the shadows of Valentine's Day.)

Today I was carrying my son up the stairs and I said "can you say I love you?"

And he said "I lev ew mama."  

You gotta love those hole-in-ones.

In The Zone

What's this? Two posts in two days!? Unheard of!

But today was worthy. Very worthy.

Today I was IN THE ZONE.

Now yesterday, not so much. I think yesterday I hit a bit of a rock bottom, as they say. It was your basic day, but I just realized, after a few conversations with friends and acquaintences, that I was not putting my best foot forward with my kids. Namely with my son.

As I have said before, he has a tendency to be "that kid". A screamer. A thrower. A hair puller. Et cetera. Yesterday I realized that a lot of this was my fault. Yes, he has plenty of testosterone. But I can't blame it all on that. I just haven't had the patience and tolerance to educate him the way I taught my other two kids at the same age. With my girls I was still in prime mothering form. But now I'm like an old quarterback out there on the field that can't throw a pass to save their career but still never gives up. Because they think they are playing great. But really, they are old and tired and worn out, and can't give the game nearly the pep that they used to.

Not sure where that football analogy came from, but you get the idea.

Of course , like any good mother, I blame my other two kids for wearing me down to this point in the first place. Or it could have something to do with being almost 8 years older than when this whole motherhood thing began. And spending almost every single day of the last 7 years drying tears, wiping snotty noses, filling sippy cups, cleaning up messes and carrying around small people that never leave me alone. See, I'm back to blaming the kids again.

Regardless, I had hit a low point. And I realized why. And I vented about it. And then a miracle happened.

I woke up to my screaming son this morning. Okay, that wasn't the miracle. The miracle was that I woke up and thought "oh my God, I can't do this another day." And then I went downstairs and tried my best to put on a good face.

And after a while I wasn't trying anymore. I was just in a really good mood. And so was my son. I've never been more sure that his mood is a reflection of my own. I have known this for a while but I just didn't have the energy to pretend to be happy most days. For whatever reason, today I did. And it was truly a blessing of a day.

It went a little something like this:

He was happy through the grocery store; not a single scream or tear.

We were early to the athletic club so we went to the gymnasium and played with some basketballs. And he was happy to put them back and go to the child care center. Again, not a single scream or tantrum.

Then I played tennis. And man, did I play some tennis. I could do no wrong! Every single ball I hit, with the exception of a few, went exactly where I wanted it to go. After an hour of this, I thought I really need to go by some lottery tickets because something is definitely going my way today.

Then I went to pick up my son and the woman at the child care center said he had a really good day today. Go figure. Lately I've been hearing a lot of "he had a time-out today" or "he tried to push someone today." But not today, my friends.

He had a couple of attempts at screaming in the car, but I was able to thwart it every time today with my 'trick of the day': I counted to three slowly, holding up the right number of fingers every time, and then said "sshhh, sshhh, sshhh". And it worked. He seemed fascinated by the number two all day; he would try to do it with his fingers and it just made him giggle every time.

Whatever works.

Then he had a nap, and woke up without screaming or crying. Now that is unheard of.

Then we went to the library and the first person I saw was my neighbor. She didn't know it until after I approached her, but she was the topic of a few conversations yesterday as I realized that I should ask her if her 12 year old daughter could be a 'mother's helper' during some afternoons so she can play with the kids while I cook dinner or get things done around the house. All afternoon and evening yesterday I was trying to figure out how I could get a hold of her short of stalking her driveway. And we walk into the library and - bam - there she is.

In the zone, baby. Needless to say her answer was "yes, she'd love to!" and she's going to send her over to our house to figure out a schedule this weekend.

Nice!

And it's probably no surprise at this point that the longer my day went on, no matter where we went or what we did, the better my mood got. I was starting to think to myself that I should look in a mirror because I might have grown a second head. Where did this great attitude come from?

Perhaps it just came from finally seeing some light. Seeing some hope in the future for getting a little more help with my kids. And knowing that it's okay to ask for that help. It doesn't make me a bad mom, or an ungrateful person for living in this blessed life and still wanting "more." It makes me smart because I realize that I'm not taking care of myself or putting myself first. And if I don't do that, then I'm not the only one that suffers. My kids suffer too. Not to mention my poor husband who has to pick up the slack every night when he gets home.

My family has had to suffer through my bad mood for the past 6 months, or so it seems. But no more. I've turned a corner and I'm not going back.

Now someone just remind me of this the next time I call you up to bitch and moan.

Here We Go Loopty Loo

Today was a roller coaster of a day. I guess when you are feeling stretched to your limits and in the midst of some serious PMS you have to suffer through the peaks and valleys of emotions.

Lately my husband and I have been saying that we need to get our family out doing more things. We shied off of that a bit when we added a third VERY active child to the family. We have been thinking that maybe it's easier if we all have something fun to do and look at instead of sitting around the house mediating sibling battles and cleaning up messes.

That being said, a month or two ago I signed my oldest up for a Girl Scout outing to the Oakland Zoo. I thought it sounded like fun at the time since we'd never been there before and I'd heard good things about it. At the time I was worried about the weather, but little did I know that we'd have such a beautiful day. So, putting to work the new motto of getting out more often, we head over there this morning and I'm optimistic about a fun day ahead of us out of the house.

In a nutshell, I will concur with the positive reviews of the zoo. It has a whole section of kids rides and it's attractions are more centrally located than the San Francisco zoo. Not that I saw any of them.

The little educational 'class' that my daughter and I did was just limited to one area of the zoo. We saw bugs, alligators, turtles, snakes, rabbits and a couple other odds and ends. The big guns were all elsewhere in the zoo and not on our tour. Which is probably why about one and a half hours of the way through the 2 hour tour, my daughter used the "b" word.

"This is boring."

How I hate that word. It brings up so many issues. Am I underestimating her amusement level with these things? Is she not interested in animals anymore? How could I be off the mark here? Or is she bored because she's a boring person, as the saying goes? Am I a boring mom? Should we not be getting out of the house more? Is it worth it?

So I ruminate on all that crap while she suffers throughout the rest of the mini-tour, earns her badge, and then we are outta there. It's noon by this time and we are starving, so we meet up with my husband and two little ones and head to the cafe. Of course I'm in a not-so-great mood at this point because I'm hungry and I feel as if I wasted all of our time, according to my daughter's sourpuss face. I'm cruising downhill to the valley of self-pity.

My husband meanwhile was a trooper taking the little two on a tour of the rest of the entire zoo, getting a workout along the way carrying one or both of them around while saying hello to the monkeys and elephants.

After eating I'm feeling a bit better, despite the fact that my husband and I never really sat down to eat our lunch and instead took turns chasing our wandering son around in between his wailing battles to stay at our table.

So we head out to explore the rest of the zoo, which I hope is more to my oldests' liking. While we are gazing in amazement at the giraffes (which are very close up at this zoo), I am feeling much better. I'm thinking that we might just salvage this day after all. Probably had something to do with the fact that I love the gentle beauty and gigantic elegance of the giraffe. I'm definitely headed back up the hill to a peak of gratitude.

I try to rally the troops to go to the next animal, but no one is moving. It looks like my oldest is in awe at the giraffes as I have been, so I give it a minute or two more. Finally I get up close and personal with her and ask if she's ready to move on. And here it comes again.

Her: "I'm so bored."
Me: "Really? You don't like the zoo? The giraffes are so beautiful."
Her: "It's just that I'd rather be home. Or playing with my friends."

Oh Lordy. We are there. We have arrived at the I'd-rather-be-with-my-friends-than-with-my-family point. I had always thought that we'd be one of those families that would love doing stuff together...forever. Really I didn't see an end in sight. Maybe because I wasn't prepared to, and I'm still not ready for it today.

At that point I snap. "Okay then, let's go home."

And that's what we do. As I creep lower and lower back into that valley of self-pity, we march back to the parking lot, me lecturing my daughter the whole time about appreciating what's in front of her and not always wishing she were someplace else. A lesson that I seem to be constantly working on myself these days. We get to the car and pack it all up and go, screaming baby and all. It's like a bad movie at this point.

Gee, so glad we got out of the house for a great adventure.

On the ride home our son falls asleep right away since he's overdue for his nap. Toward the end my oldest falls asleep, just as our middle child is waking up from a brief nap and expresses her dire need for a drink.

Against my better judgement to just wait and give her the water bottle when we arrive home in 5 minutes, I try to throw it back to the 3rd row to her. The first try doesn't make it over the 2nd row, so I try a little harder the next time. And it lands SMACK in my oldests' peacefully sleeping face.

I have now officially arrived at the depths of the valley of self-pity. Please disembark here if you feel like an idiot that is underappreciated, overworked and insane.

My oldest starts bawling, wakes up the baby, who then joins her in a chorus of cries that fill the car. I literally use all of my willpower to stay in the car and stay quiet, while in my mind I tell my husband to stop the car and I get out and walk the rest of the way home.

Where does it go from here, you ask? Well I storm into the house and let everyone feel my mood. Not that they needed any help here. Then I grab my middle child and head out to her friend's birthday party. My husband asks if I want to stay home while he takes them all, and I say no, explaining that our four year old daughter is actually the only one in the house that knows how to have fun anymore, so I'd much rather stick with her.

True to form, my daughter and I have a great time at another Pump It Up party (will they ever end?). Since she's still shy in these circumstances, we just play the two of us through all the obstacle courses and the jumpy houses, friends joining in at times. She shoots hoops for about 30 minutes straight, reconfirming my notion that she will indeed be the jock in the house (at least until her little brother catches up). We slide, jump, tickle and laugh. And laugh some more.

And I'm back up on the peak of gratitude. We eat our pizza and cake, collect her party favor and head home.

Then what happens, you ask? Well everything is fine until my oldests' friend calls to ask her to come over for a sleepover. We already told her "no" last weekend, putting it off until this weekend. Then she came down with this cough/flu, so we said "no" last night, putting it off until tonight. And now my husband draws the line and says "no, not this weekend".

Tears ensue as she begs and pleads to get her way. If there's one thing I'm tired of these days its all the begging, pleading and whining in my days.

So I slide back down the slippery slope to bad moodland. But this time I decide to fight it. I gather all the patience I never knew I had in reserve, grab my oldest in a big embrace on the living room couch and talk with her about what's going on. While she's on my lap we have a sweet and sincere moment of gratitude, appreciating each other and reconnecting our emotional ties that were severed throughout the day.

Then my other two join in and all three of my kids are in my lap giving me more love than I can handle, and exactly what I needed. My husband then joins us and we play a round of catch with a beach ball and just sit in our living room enjoying each other, laughing and playing.

My husband and I then have a humorous "maybe we should stay home more" laugh.

I'm end the day back on the peak of gratitude.

I guess it's true what they say. All's well that ends well.

I Need A Vacation From My Vacation

Whew. We're Back.

After a whirlwind tour of Disneyland and a stop at the beach in Santa Barbara, we finally made it home. And I think my most relaxing day of it all was the day after we got home.

I'll start from the beginning and I'll try to keep it brief.

First stop, Anaheim. After a 7 1/2 hour car trip (including stops) we arrived at the place where dreams really do come true. But I checked my bank account when we got there and it was still the same, so I'm thinking that slogan is bogus.

We rode all the family friendly rides, saw all the exciting shows and met as many characters as humanly possible in two days. All in all, it was exhaustingly good fun.

We also learned that the Pirates of the Carribean is NOT a family-friendly ride. According to my oldest, it's a "roller coaster" and according to my middle child it's incredibly loud and scary. Of course that child's opinion may be overstated a bit, since she also thought the Winnie-the-Pooh ride was too loud.

Then again, I think she has a point. On most of those rides you are inside a dark room and secluded from the rest of the park. So why do they feel the need to make the voices and noises so incredibly loud? Do you really need to hear Tigger's little "hoo-hoo-hoo-hooo" at 100 decibels?

No matter, she suffered through anyway. The highlight was teaching her to hum and sing while her ears were covered so that she couldn't hear as much of the outside noise. This little trick worked, but unfortunately I didn't discover it until the end of the second day.

A big break-through did come in the form of our younger daughter finally enjoying the big fuzzy characters. I use the word "fuzzy" because the "real life" ones, like the princesses, were still too intimidating for her. But the big animals with huge eyes and mouths staring down at her all got hugs and smiles.


Here's the photographic evidence.

Huh. Go figure.

The one major complaint I will make is that the park turns into a madhouse at 8pm. They start closing rides and major throughways so they can get ready for the fireworks show. You not only can't walk anywhere, there is no where to go since the middle of the park shuts down to prepare for it. You could stick to the outside areas, but then you'd miss the show. You can't win either way. Maybe with a lot of planning and an engineering degree we could have navigated it better. Next time.

And then getting out of the park after the fireworks show seems much like what it would be if someone just shouted "Fire!" in a movie theatre. Mind your young ones or you might loose them under the feet of the masses.

All in all, my 6 year old daughter's favorite ride was Alice in Wonderland, my 3 year old daughter's favorite ride was sitting on top of my son's stroller, and my son's favorite ride was pushing the stools around at the cafe outside Casey Jr's Circus Train. It's safe to say who enjoyed the park the most.

We did have a great weekend in Santa Barbara as well. My husband survived his longest triathalon with flying colors. Well, his colors were fluttering at the very least. We were all very proud of him, cheering him on at the finish line.

The beach was the highlight of that part of our trip. Our sand castle construction team was headed up by my husband, and manned by the many little people we had in our company at the time. It was complete with seaweed decor and a protective moat.

Good clean fun.

Now if we could only get our son to stop screaming non-stop during all his non-sleeping hours in the car (which was most of them, if you are curious), we'd be ready to pack up for the next car trip.

And what about me, you ask? Did I enjoy our vacation?

Well thank you for asking. I did enjoy our week. It was a lot more work than our last vacation, and I had to wait in a long line to find my happy place, which was a little worn out by the time I got there, but I did have fun as well.

In my humble opinion, the best part about the trip was coming home. The next day I hardly saw my daughters and we never left the house.

They were so hard at work re-discovering the myriad of toys that live in our home that they never once asked to watch TV. The kicker was they did not once ask me to join them, which almost never happens around here.

That was my vacation. A whole day at home just watching my kids play, imaginations running wild.

Vacations are fun.

But it's good to be home.

Several Small Annoyances, One Big Bad Mood

While preparing for our road trip to Disneyland (tomorrow!) I decided I would call and confirm our hotel reservation.

Bad idea. This started a string of several small annoyances that let to one big, bad mood.

After waiting for over 10 minutes on hold with the Walt Disney Resort phone number (this was the number listed under the Disneyland Hotel on their website), it turned out I had to call the hotel directly.

After another 10 minutes on hold for the reservations department at the hotel, I somehow was switched to the automatic survey that questions you about the call you just had. But the thing is, I didn’t just have a call. I was on hold listening to annoying Disney music, which I now realize will be echoing through my every waking, and sleeping, moment for the next few days.

Now my blood pressure has significantly increased. As those child-safe swear words are coming out of my mouth (you know the ones – “sugar” and “darn” and “geez” – not nearly as satisfying as the real McCoy), I try one more time to reach their reservations.

After going through the operator and still waiting on hold for 5 or 6 minutes for reservations, I get through to someone. But this person suddenly has problems with her keyboard when she is trying to help me. She had to put me on hold again.

At this point I really wanted to get in my car, since I was on my cell phone anyway. I have to take my dog to my dad’s house so they can watch him while we are gone. I have a long list of things to do and I’m hoping I can multi-task to make up for the fact that “Call the hotel to verify adjoining rooms” just turned into three times as much work.

In preparation for the car trip, I go get out my Bluetooth and turn it on. BUT, I hit the button one too many times and I proceed to hang up the line.

@#%$#*$%!!!!!

Now I am extremely annoyed and want nothing to do with any of my kids that are at this point peppering me with questions.

Why are you so angry mommy? Who are you calling? What did you just say? Where are you going? Can I come?

I really want to beeline out of this house so I can take the dog sans kids. My son is napping and my daughters are occupying themselves so my mommy radar says the timing is ripe.

I let my mother-in-law know that I’m going to take off. She wants to take a quick shower before I go so I decide to give it another go with the hotel while I'm waiting.

And what would happen in the next 5 minutes? My son wakes up early from his nap, hollering his lungs out (see previous post for more details), and my younger daughter decides she's coming with me.

Sigh. I was so close!

Meanwhile I get bounced around again while I’m on hold. I then try to get a sippy cup ready for my son and negotiate with my younger daughter so that she can get dressed before we leave the house.

Aaaaand I’m still on hold.

After all this frustration on the phone with the hotel, I dial the operator and give her my tales of woe with my son crying in the background for bonus points. She then tries to get someone on the line herself, but still can’t get anyone from reservations. After 10 minutes of waiting, she finally asks me what I need. Then she proceeds to answer my questions in 10 seconds or less and we are all done.
Don’t you love it when that happens?

Meanwhile my son wants nothing to do with nothing, and is just alternately drinking his juice and crying.

I announce that I’m leaving and after realizing that my son will probably not be happy either way I just say ‘screw it’ and take him with me as well. He’s still in his pajamas and could use a dry diaper, but at this point I’m already 40 minutes behind schedule so I’m not stopping.

The car gets loaded up with the dog and his belongings, my daughter and her necessary snacks, my son and his tears, and we are off.

About 5 miles in to the 60 mile roundtrip I realize that my tank is closing in on empty. Crap. Add 15 more minutes to the trip.

A saving grace arrives in the form of my daughter falling asleep just before we arrive at my dad’s house.

After the drop off I jump in and head back home. At this point my son has been in the car for about an hour and he’s ready to get out of his seat. I hand him some chapstick to keep him busy.

He then takes the chapstick and beats on his sister’s head with it, since she has gone noodle-neck and is hanging her head right in front of him.

She sleeps on.

I giggle.

And then I advise him to stop pestering.

Now he gets a bit cranky, but I’m easily ignoring it. I just want to power through and get home for lunch.

Right as I pull off the freeway at our exit, my daughter starts stirring. As soon as she is conscious enough, she starts with the I-have-to-pee feet swinging. This is her telltale sign that I know too well. But I resolve that I am too close to home to stop.

I ignore her while talking on the phone with my sister. Then I acknowledge her needs and try offering distractions, but she’ll have none of it. She just wants to cry and whimper her way through it.

We arrive home and I run around, get her out of her seat and we make haste to the bathroom.

Phew! We made it. She didn't pee her pants. Or the car seat.

I really didn’t want to deal with cleaning a car seat today. I still have to pack, cancel the newspaper and the mail, pay some bills, find someone to pick up my child’s school registration packet and a number of other odds and ends. No time for extra chores today.

I head back out to get my son out of the car. He’s screaming for immediate release, so I unbuckle him and let him squirm out of his seat.

Only to notice that he has indeed been the one to pee his pants. Or more accurately, he peed his over-filled-because-I-can't-be-bothered-by-it diaper. And, of course, his car seat.

Fabulous. I can add that to the list of things to do afterall.

Woohoo.

Let the vacation begin.

But the way I see it, it has to be a good week, considering I’ve done a week’s worth of work in the two days leading up to the trip.

And it is the happiest place on earth, right?

Where better to find my happy place?

Well, I could think of a few other locations, and there aren't any oversized mice with big ears and shit-eating grins that live there.

So be it.

Mickey and Minnie, here we come.

Unplugged

Sometimes I am happily reminded of the benefits of unplugging for a little while. No cell phones. No email. No blogging. Just a bit of peace and quiet in a little patch of nature.

We just returned from a wonderful week off. We packed up the kids, and all their accessories, and went out to Virginia to visit some friends. And we spent a few days off the grid.

Our trip was centered around the generosity of our friends' invitation to join them at their house on a lake in Northern Virginia. At no time was there less than six kids and four adults, and for the most part there were a couple more of each at any given moment as more friends came and went, dipping their toes in the lake and visiting for a little good cheer.

And yet it was still a very quiet week.

Sure there were plenty of screams. Usually cries of joy as one of the kids discovered a turtle swimming in the lake or went for a running-start jump off the dock into the water. At times the cries were of a more tragic nature when there was "play date overload". But besides the boat motors and the kids, the loudest things around were the birds and crickets.

You just gotta love nature. It forces you to observe and listen, stealing our attention away from our technology-induced stupors and stressors. Instead we focus on the most important things in our lives that all too often get put aside for a "little" time on the computer.

You know it happens to all of us. "I'll just be a few minutes on email/internet/bill-paying and then we can play that game." Before you know it an hour has passed and then it's time to do something else, like make dinner, change a diaper, or keep a child from bodily harm at the hands of his or her siblings. And that little person that so patiently waited for you gets bubkus.

Not so when you are on vacation. Everyone gets your full attention the whole time, which is a pretty amazing thing. Take away your daily routine and you take away your worries and excuses. Unplug from the craziness of this world we live in and just be.

Watching your kids discover new passions is priceless. And unfortunately, it doesn't happen often enough in our internet-driven, inflation-ridden, information-overloaded world.

I'm so grateful to our friends for opening their home to us. And I'm even more grateful to my family for filling my senses with giggles, hand-holding, water-splashing and finger-licking-good smores.

Last week I definitely found my happy place.

It felt more like 364 days...

Today is my son's first birthday.

How time flies.

I really cannot believe that 365 days ago we were welcoming him into this world. And on that day he completed our family in more ways then he will ever know.

His sisters absolutely adore him. And really they should get some credit for raising him to this point, because without their help I would not have made it through this year.

They get him food, give him is bottle, and keep him giggling. And they put out the APB when he has something (anything) in his mouth that is not a food product. Bless them.

It goes without saying that he is the prince of our house.

He crawls faster than any two legged being I've ever seen. In fact, he gets going so fast sometimes that his arms can't keep up with his quick little legs and he dives head first onto the floor. He then cries as if somebody done him wrong.

He has a serious love affair going with his blanket, which I foresee being in his life for quite some time. He even takes it a little further and has extra-blanketal affairs with any blanket or pillow in his vicinity. Just quick little three second snuggles that will last him until he returns to his true love.

He loves to snuggle close with mommy and daddy after nap time (and truth be told, he prefers daddy).

He never wants to stop playing to take a nap or go to bed, and yet, he does it anyway. And withouth barely a fuss. Yes, he is that angelic.

He is the most happy-go-lucky person I know.

With all that happiness on his side, I know he will always make his own good luck.

Because when he smiles at you, his heart reaches out, takes your hand and guides you to your happy place.

He is our son.

Can I Get a Happy Place With That?

I really do want to live in the moment with my kids. I do, I do. But sometimes it just isn't in the cards. Those rose-colored glasses get all smudged with sticky little fingerprints and I just can't see anymore. I can't find my patience or my positive attitude. They are filed away in my mental mommy system of emotions and outlooks, and I just can't find them. All I keep finding under "P" is pissed off.

So I say screw it. And I wallow a little. Who doesn't, right?

Today was one of those days. I just couldn't find my happy place. It was lost somewhere underneath the banana-smeared shirt with the tear-soaked shoulders. I think maybe when I put it away last time it got misfiled under "N" for Not Gonna Happen.

So instead I tried to grin and bear it until my husband got home. And that's when all the tantrums and fevers and sweat (did I mention we are in the midst of a heat wave?) came bubbling back up to the surface and unloaded themselves onto my poor, unsuspecting, was-in-a-good-mood-before-he-got-home husband.

Then he lost his happy place too. And they never see it coming, do they? I feel bad. At least I did feel bad for a few minutes. And then I told him to "buck up".

Sometimes I really wish my day could start at the drive through. I could just pull on up to the window and place my order.

"I'll take the 3 year old that follows directions, but hold the whining. And I also need a 6 year old that puts her shoes away and doesn't complain about dinner. And I need a 1 year old that is healthy for at least 30 days straight - can I get a receipt for that one in case it doesn't last for the full warranty period?

Oh, and this time, don't forget my Happy Place."