Sick Day

This picture was taken about 20 minutes ago.  This scene is a vast improvement over Saturday night-Sunday morning,, which began with the chilling words "I just threw up - in my sleep" called weakly and tearily down the stairs to where Hubby and I were sitting on the couch watching a movie.  Hubby took the worse of the two clean-up tasks, taking care of her bed and its various casualties (there were several of the Stuffed Animal variety) while I took care of getting Kiddo cleaned up and tucked into bed in the guest room.  Once everything was all squared away, we returned to our movie, though with a few more cases of Filmus Interruptus due to Vomitus Childus, I'm left wondering if I've judged Paul Blart, Mall Cop a bit unfairly...

The Vomitus Childus continued throughout the night, I think six times in all.  A bleary-eyed call to the pediatrician Sunday morning confirmed that yes, there is a bad stomach bug going around, with the silver lining that it has been lasting no more than 24-36 hours.  (I, of course, instantly suspected our old enemy, strep throat, as Kiddo has proven especially susceptible to strep over the years and for her, strep = major barfage.)  We stayed in yesterday, watching Annie and E.T. while snuggled on the couch, and yes, I cried while watching E.T. as I always do.  It's this scene that gets me every time:

 
(I'm a bit misty-eyed just looking at that still photo.  Yeesh.)

So, here we are today, Kiddo home and tucked in on the couch, both in our jammies, with the fire crackling and a pile of books by our sides.  My schedule for the day had to be rearranged - I had meetings to attend and errands I was intending to run - but such is life, right?  I can think of worse ways to spend a dreary Monday, anyhow.  Well, so long as we don't get another round of Vomitus Childus that is.......

Convalescence: a Big, Fat, Hairy Deal

So, our first full day of movement-restricted, post-surgical convalescence is now 14 minutes from over. Okay, technically it ended for Kiddo about 4 hours ago, but still. She is doing remarkably well overall, I think, given that just yesterday she was under general anesthesia and having surgery and all.

She did *not* sleep in and in fact was up by 6:10 when Hubby was heading out the door for work. I had been pulling for a "sleep in until at least 9 or 10" kind of morning, mostly because I was tired enough to sleep in until at least 9 or 10 myself, but no such luck. Flipping on the TV in my room and trying to roll over and go back to sleep while she watched Disney channel didn't buy me many more Zs either. Nope, Kiddo was all about getting herself set up on the couch in the family room so she could watch DVDs. (With the movement restrictions mandated by her doctor, Kiddo's usual strict limitations on "screen time" have temporarily been lifted and she is watching as much TV as she wants, so long as she's doing so while chilling out quietly on the couch.) Well, she mostly wanted to watch one DVD in particular.

This one:



I had picked this up almost as an afterthought when I was frantically scanning the shelves at Blockbuster looking for movies that (a) Kiddo hasn't seen, (b) were longer than 22 minutes, (c) were not objectionable in any way according to my admittedly puritanical judgment scale. I saw Garfield grinning up at me from a box on the lower shelf and grabbed it because Kiddo has developed quite a love for Garfield in comic book form ever since she discovered a few of my Garfield cartoon collection books sometime last year. She thoroughly enjoyed the Garfield Christmas special when I DVRed it in December, so I figured she might get a kick out of the DVD and added it to my pile.

She has now watched this DVD enough in the past 24 hours to have the dialogue, scene order and likely the closing credits memorized. And yet, she wants to watch it again. And again. And again.

Now, I've been a Garfield fan myself since I was a kid. (Side note: Garfield debuted back in 1978.) I mean, those are *my* Garfield books that Kiddo has appropriated, after all. I have watched pieces of the DVD (hard to avoid it when it's playing nonstop on our largest TV) and will confess to chuckling aloud a few times. But, still. This is not the height of comedy, folks. It's a talking cat. How many times can one human being watch the same talking cat cartoon over and over before one goes a little bit nuts? Four is the number, if you're asking about one's mother.

When the repeated viewings of Garfield and Co had hit the upper limits of my sanity threshold, I suggested a different means of entertainment, namely, playing princesses with me on the family room floor. Kiddo got a castle and all the Disney princess figurines to go with it for her birthday two years ago, except for Snow White. Well, as a "hey, I feel lousy that you have to go through all this" kind of a post-surgery present, I picked up the Snow White (who, by the by, is much more Snow Tan than Snow White) that matched the rest of the set and Kiddo was over the moon with Snow's arrival (even better that she came accompanied by bonus Dopey and Grumpy figures) when I showed her the set the night before her surgery. So, Kiddo was content to play princesses, with one teeny-tiny problem:



Those are Snow White's shoes, as held by Kiddo's not-abnormally-large, 6 year old hand. They're raisin sized and skinny and a total PITA to put on to the princesses' feet. Moreover, they're impossible to put on if you are experiencing double vision from recent eye surgery. That meant it fell to me, Man Hands Mommy, to repeatedly jam teeny-tiny princess piggies into teeny-tiny high heels. I don't even jam my own piggies into great, big heels, for Pete's sake. Haven't these girls heard of Birkenstocks? Perhaps a nice, sensible clog? After the assorted princesses had made like Cinderella one too many times and lost yet another shoe, I convinced Kiddo to let them just go barefoot since they were in the family room which has lovely, new carpeting after all.

Garfield and ridiculously minuscule footwear aside, Kiddo had some ups and downs today. Downs include the persisting double vision, eye pain and headaches (though, true to her general good spirited nature, she was joking on the phone to my mother about how she could see "all four of her feet" and how she was so happy to have "two cats" instead of one.) The two biggest downs include the having to stay still, calm and quiet (which, seriously, could someone please order me to lounge on the couch in my jammies, tucked under a fleece blanket with total dominion over the TV and someone to fetch me snacks and ginger ale? Please?) which is especially hard for my SPD kid, and the eyedrops. The steroid/antibiotic eyedrops that must be administered by me four times a day in each eye.

You wouldn't think that something as small as this:



could produce so much misery. Misery on both our parts, mind you. Kiddo gets her full-fledged freakout going on as soon as my hand approaches the airspace above her head with the bottle poised for action. Misery on my part because DANG, that bottle is small. (I photographed it with an ordinary sized pen and paper clip for reference. Note that is my tres cool, official Nanny Goats in Panties pen, courtesy of the ever-fantabulous Margaret.) The bottle is so small that it is virtually impossible to carefully squeeze out one drop into the squirming, blinking, bloody eyeball of the squirming, blinking, screaming bloody murder kid. I certainly don't want to miss, either, because those eyedrops are apparently made out of fairy wings, pixie dust and hens' eyeteeth. Or possibly gold, diamonds and George Clooney's cell phone number. Whatever they're made of, they're danged expensive and I'm not willing to waste them by spritzing them willy-nilly into the general direction of Kiddo's head in the hopes that a veritable rain shower of medicine might inadvertently make its way into her eyes in something akin to the proper dosage.

So, yeah, that? Not the fun part. Even less fun is how her tears are blood right now. Okay, fine, technically they're just bloody, not actual straight blood, but the effect is still quite disconcerting despite all the advance warning from helpful surgical staff. Also staining - Kiddo's pillowcase has some icky spots on it now, as does the shirt I was wearing yesterday.

Now then, let's talk about the ups. Kiddo has had several phone calls and emails from folks wanting to check up on her, and has felt well enough to take some of the calls in person. Kiddo loves to talk on the phone anytime for any reason, so having calls *specifically for her* is a huge thrill. She also spoke with her surgeon last night when he called to follow up on her. I don't think he speaks to many of his actual patients when he makes such calls, being a pediatric eye doctor and all, but Kiddo heard me say hello to him and requested a word. She gave him several, specifically "You know, I did NOT like what you did to my eyes, because now they're bloody and they hurt and I do not EVER want you to do that to them EVER again." Heh.

Kiddo also has had some visitors. Her in-town grandma came over yesterday and today her aide from school came over, bringing a lovely, large card that Kiddo's classmates made her. Kiddo also had a visit from one of her Daisy troop friends who lives a few blocks from us and with whom Kiddo plays during recess just about every day. She walked over with her mom and younger sister, and they came bearing get-well gifts to boot. (Who doesn't love presents? My kid sure does!) They baked us some delicious apple bread (which Kiddo and I both enjoyed during her dinner), lent Kiddo some books with tapes so she can listen while she's reading (though she was getting frustrated with the difficulty her vision was giving her with reading earlier today) and brought us the most beautiful bouquet of flowers. I had far greater appreciation for the flowers than Kiddo did, but I guess that's to be expected when one of us is six and more into endless viewings of Garfield and Odie and the other of us is closing in on 38 and has had more experience in the realm of bouquets. One can never have too many flowers, I don't think... at least I never have!

I'll leave you with a shot of the patient, listening to Howard Jones on her iPod (yes, along with appropriating my comic books from the 80s, she's also appropriated my 80s music) as she ate her orzo in chicken broth and a slice of apple bread for dinner, sitting at the table with the flowers:



Here's a close up of the flowers, because they're beautiful enough to warrant their own close up. Despite being meant for Kiddo, they really brightened up my afternoon!



At least they'll be something to look forward to when Kiddo invariably wakes up too, too early again tomorrow and wants me to get up, too... or maybe I could just put the Garfield DVD in now and let it run so that it's playing when she gets up...

Monday Musings: Think you're a movie buff?

I consider myself to be quite a movie buff. Granted, I don't see as many movies in the theaters now as I did back in the pre-Kiddo days (and those that I do see tend to run more towards Up - a fantabulous, amazing movie BTW - than There Will Be Blood) but still, I still love the movies - almost any genre, in any language, from any era. (The poster above, incidentally, used to adorn my bedroom wall, and in college I had black and white movie stills decorating my dorm room.)

So, I was intrigued when a friend (hey, Xanny!) posted a link on her Facebook page to a list of the All Time Box Office, as adjusted for ticket price inflation. In other words, what movies *really* were the most popular, ever, at least in terms of the bucks they raked in during their theatrical release. I immediately clicked over and began to count. I've seen 23 out of the top 25, myself, and 83 out of the top 100. Not too shabby.

If you want to check it out for yourself, you can find the list here. How many have you seen? Any on there you want to see and just haven't yet? How can only one of the Harry Potter (NINE MORE DAYS WOO-HOO) films make the list, but all three Shreks and all three Spidermans (Spidermen?) be on there? Hmmmm. Anything not on here that you think ought to be? Anything on here you've never even heard of? What movies are in your all-time top ten? Mine are (in no particular order):

Sense and Sensibility
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
The Sting
Goodfellas
Cinema Paradiso
Braveheart
Out of Africa
The Muppet Movie
The Princess Bride
Truly, Madly, Deeply

I also love all the Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings movies, the Monty Python movies (especially Holy Grail and Life of Brian), E.T., Traffic, The Natural, Rounders, Love Actually, Glengarry Glen Ross, L.A. Confidential, Memento, the Pixar movies (did I mention Up? Go see it - but maybe not with the younger kids) and of course all the 80s movies like The Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink, Ferris Beuller's Day Off.... Okay, I could go on all day, but I won't - your turn!

If you haven't checked your calendars yet...

Today is July 1st.

That means it is exactly TWO WEEKS until

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

opens at a theater near you! (Well, a theater near you if you are in America, at least - not sure about the international release dates.)

You can bet your sweet bippy I'm going to be parked in a comfy, reclining seat with a big ole bag of popcorn on my lap, gazing in wonder at the most recently filmed scenes of Harry and Co. on the 15th. I am also fairly certain I'll be crying at certain points, after all I did sob rather heavily at certain points in the book...

I'll be going with my BFF, with whom I've seen every other HP movie so far (and every one on its opening day except for Chamber of Secrets, which opened while Hubby and I were in L.A. for me to tape my big Jeopardy! appearance, so he and I saw it opening day out there and then I saw it with her again when we got home) and with whom I waited up until midnight at Barnes & Noble back when Deathly Hallows came out.......




Oh yeah, I'm way, way excited. Aren't you?

Happy Father's Day

First of all, I want to wish a very happy Father's Day to all the fathers and grandfathers out there!

Secondly, an illustrated recap of our Father's Day so far....

Kiddo woke up before 7am, so I whisked her downstairs to the family room so Hubby could sleep in for a change. We watched Labyrinth, which is a movie I haven't seen in decades but apparently still know by heart, as I could (and did) recite dialogue and sing the songs right along with the DVD. I *did* own the soundtrack - on vinyl no less - back in my younger days, so I guess I shouldn't be that surprised. My short-term memory may be shot these days, but my long-term memory is still fully intact, full of obscure things like David Bowie soundtrack lyrics from the 80s.......



Once Hubby woke up, we gave him his Father's Day presents, which included things Kiddo had made for him at school, a tie (because, come on, it's Father's Day - you have to give Daddy a tie, right?) and the new Ghostbusters game for the Wii. Hubby and Kiddo started busting ghosts in short order, with a break to eat a breakfast including bagels I picked up last night at the store. I had been hoping to get Hubby some of the apple fritters he loves but alas, they were long gone by 7pm.



Then, after lunch, I went upstairs to take a quick nap. (Hubby and I moved all of our stuff - remember our stuff?



- out of the storage unit yesterday. In the pouring down, raining hippos and elephants rain. We should've rented one of these:



instead of one of these:



Anyhow, besides the few boxes and odds and ends I still need to unload from the minivan, everything is IN our house. Not *unpacked* necessarily, but *moved in* at least. Woo-hoo! So, Hubby took a 2 hourish nap yesterday after unloading the U-Haul into our garage, and I was still tired from yesterday so I decided I'd nap today!)

As soon as I got comfortable, Kiddo decided to join me for a snuggle. Typically, when Kiddo wants to snuggle during an attempted nap, no one gets any sleep. It becomes a chat, followed by some serious squirming, more chatting and then giving up. Not today...



So yeah, Hubby is the only one in the house who did NOT nap on Father's Day. Next up, some steaks on the grill along with corn on the cob, asparagus and salt potatoes for dinner. Mmmm. The sun has finally come out after days of crazy rain, so perhaps a walk around the neighborhood, too.

Hope you're having a good weekend!

Hakuna Matata!

Well, that was quite a weekend we just had here in the Smith family. One of those "I need a weekend to get over my weekend" type deals. It all started bright and early Friday morning, when we loaded up Ye Olde Minivan and headed west to Lansing, Michigan. Why'd we do that, you ask? Because Lansing is where the national tour of The Lion King happens to be playing right now.

You see, Kiddo is a bit of a musical theater nerd, just like her mama. Kiddo also is completely obsessed with The Lion King. She claimed my OBC soundtrack for her own years ago, and has since memorized every word, note, grunt, roar and snort therein. We own the movie, which she has watched at least a million times. We have the storybook version of The Lion King, which she has read at least two million times. She has not one, but two Simba stuffed animals. Every year when we go to Walt Disney World, we see the Festival of the Lion King at Animal Kingdom, and Kiddo is rapt throughout. So, a few months ago, Hubby and I were talking about how much we thought Kiddo would enjoy seeing the actual stage production. Our first thought was, of course, Broadway, where we had seen TLK many, many moons ago ourselves. Hubby hopped online and quickly discovered that these days, a ticket to TLK costs approximately four arms and three legs, especially multiplied by three. On to the next thought - perhaps the national tour would be coming back to our fair city sometime soon? Hubby looked into it and discovered that sadly, no, it isn't going to be stopping back here in the near future. That was when he discovered that the tour would be playing in Lansing in April. Some further research led him to the conclusion that we could get three awesome seats and a hotel room overnight for less than what it would cost us to see the show on Broadway (which would include free lodging at Chez Grandparents in Jersey). Furthermore, Google Maps informed him that driving from our house to Lansing takes almost exactly the same amount of time as driving from our house to Chez Grandparents. Seemed like a no-brainer to us, so we ordered the tickets, made the hotel reservation and put a big star on the calendar.

So there we were, setting out Friday morning, Kiddo watching the first of her vast Veggietales DVD collection, Hubby and I overcaffeinating with Wild Cherry Diet Pepsi and Mountain Dew Code Red, respectively. Now, the thing about driving mostly due west from our home is that it takes us a bit out of the country:



And it turns out that this is the more direct route than staying in the US and going the long way around the eastern Great Lakes. We had renewed our passports and gotten Kiddo her very first passport a few months ago in anticipation of this trip, so we weren't sweating it. We made good time over the border into Canada, stopping for a quick bathroom break during which Kiddo had to go sit next to "the really shiny guy" on the bench inside the Duty Free shop...



We continued on our way through what must surely be one of the most boring stretches of eastern Canada (no offense intended to the lovely inhabitants of this section of the country; I know anyone would have the same impression should they be driving along the NYS Thruway in our neck of the woods as well). It was so boring that I promptly fell asleep, as I am wont to do whenever I'm in a car anyhow. I was awakened from my midmorning nap a short while later by the energetic and loud serenade of a bunch of singing vegetables - Kiddo had decided to remove the headphones connecting her ears to the portable DVD player (and seriously, was there ever a better invention for the sanity of all adults on long car rides than the portable DVD player? I know that as a child, we made several long car trips - I'm talking NJ to Florida and back length trips - and I know that I certainly would've appreciated the opportunity to gorge myself on repeated viewings of Dirty Dancing or Pretty in Pink or A Chorus Line, the Movie instead of playing endless rounds of Herbie Car - what my family called Punch Buggy - or "Mom, she's touching me! She's on my side!" and praying that my Walkman batteries wouldn't run out before lunch....). The Veggietales crew might provide wholesome and often humorous entertainment, but they certainly do not provide good lullaby-esque music by which one can nap, especially when the portable DVD player is strapped to the headrest directly behind one's head.

We zipped along through Canada, feeling like we were driving much faster than we actually were thanks to the cute, metric speed limits (100 KPH? Wow, we must be flying!) and in no time, we were circling 'round Lake Huron and approaching the US Border once more. We were getting hungry, but Hubby refused to stop at any of the Fifth Wheel Truck Stops we'd passed for lunch despite my begging (come on now - they had HUGE signs proclaiming BREAKFAST ALL DAY, and we were in Canada, where they surely have maple syrup instead of Aunt Jemima or Mrs. Butterworth, right?). We pulled up to the bridge back into the US and promptly came to a

dead

stop.

It turns out that many, many Canadians really wanted to head into Port Huron for Good Friday. Who knew? We sat on the scary, heart-stoppingly high bridge over the lake for a good ninety minutes. Plenty of time for me to get this shot of the beautiful view of the sparkling, clear blue waters of Lake Huron out my window:



When we were finally back in the US of A, we stopped at the first Golden Arches we came across that we could see from the highway. That is one of Hubby's Road Trip Rules: it isn't enough to see a sign telling you there is a Mickey D's or Wendy's or gas station at the next exit, the actual building itself must be visible from the highway or you do not pull off the main road. This rule came about after one too many frantic attempts to get gas or change a blow-out diaper where we found ourselves traipsing about the dark, back woods of Nowhere, PA, driving further and further from the main road and in some cases, unable to get right back on to the highway where we exited. So, after a later-than-we'd-planned-for lunch, we trekked onwards, finally arriving at our hotel in West Lansing.

We stayed at a Residence Inn, which meant we had a suite with kitchenette instead of just a room. Kiddo was extremely excited to learn that she was sleeping on the magical sofa that would transform into a bed just for her. We didn't disabuse her of the idea that it was a special treat to sleep on the pull-out bed, either. Kiddo and I changed into swimsuits and headed down to the pool (excellent sensory input for her, as well as a way to stretch and burn off some energy after spending almost 8 hours strapped into a booster seat watching animated veggies frolicking about). Unfortunately, we were not the only people enjoying a late afternoon dip. It seemed that the West Lansing Residence Inn was the gathering point for someone's large family function. Could've been a wedding or maybe a large family reunion, but there were fifteen adults and at least two dozen children who all were related/knew each other well already occupying the relatively small pool and hot tub area when Kiddo and I arrived.

Now, when I say "large family reunion" I am not emphasizing it quite the way you'd expect. What I mean to say is, it was a LARGE family. As in "Biggest Loser" large. Now, I am not a small woman. The words "slender" or "svelte" do not ever apply to my person, especially when my person is squeezed into any sort of swimming gear. I freely and openly acknowledge this. However, I was the smallest adult woman in the pool area by at least half. The men were even bigger, and most of the children were equally rotund. Oh, and they were all REALLY, REALLY loud, too. It was insane. Despite the fact that the deepest part of the pool was only 4ft 2in and there were impressive NO DIVING signs on every available surface, the Large Family was diving with abandon. Come to think of it, the amount of water that was being displaced by cellulite and cannonballs probably brought the water down to closer to the two feet deep level, and made a "lazy river rapids" sort of effect all the way around the pool, as well. Consequently, Kiddo and I didn't stay in the pool area for more than 20 or 25 minutes before heading back up to our room, where Hubby had set up the computer (yay, hotel with free WiFi!) and located a nearby Domino's with coupons online and ordered us some pizza for dinner.

Soon enough, we were all bathed/showered and fed and tucking ourselves in to sleep in our respective beds.



Now, remember how I said our suite came with a kitchenette? That kitchenette included a fridge/freezer that had an ice maker as well as a cute, miniature dishwasher. We'd started up the dishwasher after dinner, thinking it would provide a bit of white noise for Kiddo as she was in the front part of the suite, closest to the hallway, and the Large Family were no quieter moving about the rest of the hotel than they were in the pool. Turns out that the teeny-tiny dishwasher operated via a very loud engine. A loud, slow engine that clanked and roared for a good hour after we'd turned it on and tucked her in some eight feet away. Whoops. Eventually, though, the dishwasher wheezed to a halt, the Large Family stopped thundering past our door in the hall, and peace and quiet settled over our suite. Everyone drifted off to sleep, and then the ice maker in the freezer began to work.

This was a Very Special ice maker. When we'd first arrived at the room and were investigating all the features therein, I peered into the freezer and noted the lack of any cubes in the tray below the ice maker. Hubby subsequently jiggled a few bits in the freezer and proclaimed it broken. Not quite. In the wee, small hours of the night, the ice maker decided the time was nigh to produce a cube. One cube. But not just any little cube. The effort required by this machine to produce one cube started off with a noise akin to the Space Shuttle gearing up for blast-off from the launching pad. After ten minutes of this machinery grinding away, building to an ever-crescendoing roar, it popped out its cube with a resounding BANG that sounded like a shotgun being fired, again from mere feet away from my sleeping child. Needless to say, the noise woke me up. The ice maker continued to "work" in this manner irregularly throughout the night, the Space Shuttle crescendoing roar leading up to the shotgun blast of the cube shooting out into the tray. If I didn't know how quietly water actually does freeze, I'd completely believe that this level of ferocity and sound was totally required to fuse those Hs and Os into a solid, cold mass. I do know better, though, so I was not impressed or amused.

At any rate, despite the Thundering Herd of Larges and the World's Loudest Ice Maker, we all managed to get some sleep, if not of the highest quality. (I forgot to mention the West Lansing Residence Inn also featured the World's Worst Pillows. They seemed promising enough, all fluffy and big, but they were of the Insidiously Evil Feather variety, whereupon you rest your head waaaay up on top of a pillow or three, and in mere seconds, your head is down on the mattress with pillow puffed up around your face in a most suffocating-esque way.) Morning arrived, and Hubby took his turn taking Kiddo to the pool. Luckily for him, the Large Family had bypassed the early-morning exercise option in favor of the free, full breakfast offered by the hotel, and he and Kiddo were the only people in the pool area. I opted to surf the 'net and take a super-long shower (yay for endless hotel hot water!). Hubby checked out the breakfast scene on the way back from the pool, and reported upon their return that there was no room at the inn, or at least in the restaurant area. Yep, he'd met the Large Family. He made a few trips from the restaurant to our room instead, bringing us some very tasty breakfast (though I bet not as tasty as breakfast-for-lunch would've been at the Fifth Wheel). We had some time to kill before heading out to the show (remember the show? I know I've spent paragraphs here on the hotel, but really, we were there for the show) so Kiddo watched some TV (including more Veggietales, which are in the Saturday morning cartoon line-up apparently), Hubby "worked" on his computer and I watched vintage Law and Order (oh Jerry Orbach, how I miss you) and napped a bit in the other room, then we nuked some leftover pizza for lunch before packing up our stuff when it was time to head out.

We bid the Large Family and the Residence Inn a fond farewell (Kiddo, in the parking lot, blowing kisses to the building: "Goodbye, Michigan hotel. I'll miss you. I'll come back soon! *mwah*") and made our way to Michigan State University, where TLK was playing, while Kiddo watched our Lion King DVD in the back seat. We drove around campus for a bit and then did some parking garage strategizing to optimize our chances of a quick exit after the show. We paused in front of the theater to get this shot (after Hubby graciously offered to take the same picture for a family that had thought of the idea first)



and then it was showtime! Well, not quite. We couldn't even get into the lobby yet, and stood in the entrance way as Kiddo looked longingly through the doors at the lady setting up the Official Lion King Souvenirs Stand a few yards into the lobby. Finally we could enter the lobby, and we made our way past several OLKS Stands (as well as a few Roasted Nut stands, oddly enough) and up to the balcony level. We found the right set of doors and were told that we'd need to wait a bit more before we could go in, so wait we did. When the doors opened, we discovered that the front row of the balcony at the Wharton Center is not only very high up (I know I've mentioned my utterly incredible fear of heights before) but had a long, sloping ledge off the front down which one could easily slide before plummeting to the orchestra level below. My palms are sweating as I type this just from thinking of it, I kid you not. We settled in for the show, which began after at least a dozen more announcements reminding us in no uncertain terms that photographic or other recording devices were most definitely prohibited.

Finally, finally, finally it was showtime. The lights dimmed, the curtain rose, the music swelled and The Lion King began. We had great seats despite the sickening height, as it turns out. Kiddo was transfixed, and Hubby and I were as captivated by this production as we'd been when we saw the original on Broadway. I briefly regretted not choosing an aisle seat in the orchestra section when the actors made their entrance at the beginning of the show, but at the beginning of the second act, one of the bird actors stood not ten feet away from us, swooping and soaring his bird in circles directly over our head. It was awesome. Kiddo did not like the strobe light/exploding bursts of steam and smoke effects that accompanied some of Scar's "villian" scenes, but was not the least bit upset by the wildebeest stampede (which we'd thought she might find scary). At the intermission, Hubby went off to find some snacks and Kiddo announced she had to use the bathroom, level "emergency" so we joined the line at the ladies' room.

Now, it appeared the balcony seated maybe 800 people or so. It was a near-capacity crowd. There was exactly ONE ladies' room for the entire balcony section. We were maybe 40 or 50 people back in line when Kiddo, who was growing increasingly frantic, told me that she "could feel the pee starting to come out" and I had to make a snap decision. I hoisted her up by the armpits, and bearing her aloft in front of me like a shield, I cut to the front of the line. The woman who was at that point next (along with her maybe 10 or 11 year old daughter) most graciously allowed us to go ahead of them, and I got Kiddo into the stall and on the seat with not even a millisecond to spare. I didn't even bother closing the stall door - I was peeling her tights down as we hustled into the stall. Whew, that was a close one. Since we had cut the line, I didn't feel right using the facilities myself, so I opted to rely upon my Bladder of Steel and we exited the stall as quickly as we could when Kiddo was done. She was apologizing and thanking everyone in line behind us as we washed our hands and made our way back out of the bathroom (and I would like to extend my own apologies and thanks to all the women and girls we cut in front of as well; I know you all had to go, too, and I appreciate your allowing us to avoid a pants-wetting incident that doubtless would not have been pleasant), where we rejoined Hubby who had managed to acquire a small bottle of water, 2 mediocre and very dry chocolate chip cookies and a small bag of chocolate-covered peanuts for approximately $15. That boost of sugar was enough to get Kiddo bouncing, and before we knew it, the show was over and the actors were taking their third (well-deserved) curtain call.

Back out to the garage, where Kiddo changed into her jammies and strapped in to watch yet more Veggietales DVDs (I swear to you, we brought many, many NON-VT DVDs with us as well, but Kiddo was on a veggie kick) and Hubby's pre-show parking strategy worked like a charm, getting us out of the garage and on our way back to Canada in less than three minutes flat. With a few quick stops for bathroom breaks, food and gas, we were back in New York and approaching our town by a little after 11:00 Saturday night. Oh, and for the last hour and a half or so of the ride, we were wowed by the sight of the moon rising low on the horizon. It was so darkly orange that it resembled the setting sun more than the rising moon, and I spent a good twenty minutes trying to take a decent picture of it through the windshield. Sadly, this is the best I could do:



and it doesn't nearly capture the orangey-ness or largeness of what we saw. The higher the moon rose, the less colorful it became, but trust me, it was an amazing sight.

Once we arrived back at the homestead, Hubby carried Kiddo up to bed and I began assisting the Easter Bunny in basket prep and hiding. (Yeah, I know, I should've done that before we left. Idiot.) Thankfully, the late night and excitement of the trip meant Kiddo slept in until 7:40 yesterday morning, instead of being up and in search of baskets at the crack of dawn, as is customary. She found her basket and promptly surveyed the loot brought by Mommy and Daddy the Easter Bunny.


While I was salivating at the sight of Cadbury mini-creme eggs and the giant Gertrude Hawk Chocolate Dinosaur Egg, Kiddo was most excited by the arrival of Pico, the Chihuahua (or Chewawa who is "so cyoot" according to the various odes Kiddo penned later on, during church and afterwards). Kiddo took Pico up to her room to meet the rest of her Stuffed Animal Entourage and I decided the time was right to hide to have the Easter Bunny hide our eggs in the back yard. Hubby was watching golf on TV at this point, so I left him in charge of making sure I the Easter Bunny was not discovered. Imagine my surprise when I came in from the deck to find Kiddo standing in the living room! Shooting Glares of Death at Hubby (who returned them with the Shrug and Raised Eyebrows of "What did you want me to do?"), I quickly explained to Kiddo that I had noticed the empty egg carton in the fridge when I went to start breakfast, so I'd gone outside to see where the Easter Bunny had hidden her eggs this year - in the front or back yard. Kiddo bought the line and insisted upon immediately going out to find the eggs, so we did. Well, by "we" I mean Kiddo and I, as Hubby wisely opted to stay inside where it wasn't a wind chill of 29 degrees. I wound up giving Kiddo "you're getting warmer/colder" type hints just to hurry things along (and because she was really not doing that spectacular a job of finding not-very-concealed, brightly colored eggs) before any of our extremities blackened from frostbite and fell clear off.



Once that was done, we returned inside to thaw and enjoyed some Easter omelets cooked by Hubby, then it was time to get ready for church. (Yay for church that doesn't start until 10:45!) After church, Kiddo played with Pico and the rest of her SAE, Hubby watched golf and I took an Easter nap. But, not before I got a few shots of Kiddo (and Pico) in her Easter ensemble....



Any girl knows that dresses - especially ones with crinolines! - were made for twirling...



In conclusion, Hakuna Matata and He is Risen, hallelujah! Hope you and yours had a wonderful weekend, and a happy Easter or Passover or whatever you may celebrate. Now, stay out of my way as I hit the post-Easter candy clearance bins, okay? At least, stay away from the Cadbury Creme Eggs, as they are MINE!

The "What Barbara Walters Would Ask if She Were HOT" meme

My dear blogosphere friend Eudea-Mamia just did this meme, and then graciously gave me the following questions so I could play, too. I'm fairly certain that credit for the title goes to EM, by the way....

My questions are:

1. Name one moment in your life when you were very proud of yourself (non Kiddo related!).

Um, I could go a bit cheesy here and say this moment:



but actually, I was more proud of passing the test and the audition/interview to get into the contestant pool than actually being called for the show, which was much more luck/chance than me actually *doing* something. Out of the 65 people that took the contestant exam that same day I did, only 6 of us passed it. So, that was a "woo, me!" moment.

On a less trivial level, I was also extremely proud of myself the day that I was promoted to the director of my department at the agency I worked for prior to the Ultimate Promotion to being a mom. I was only 27, the youngest person ever promoted to "senior management" and had been completely convinced I would never be picked to fill my predecessor's gigantic shoes. Some of the folks that I was up against for the job had PhDs and decades more experience than I, so I was a bit stunned to hear that I'd gotten the job. I'm further proud to say that during my tenure, my team exceeded all our contract requirements and benchmarks, started two new programs (one was a school-to-work program for high school students with disabilities, the other a program to help individuals with epilepsy who were unemployed or underemployed find and keep suitable employment) and had our department chosen to be one of five sites nationwide included in a federal grant. We were a great team and we helped a lot of people with very little resources and a lot of obstacles. I was definitely proud of that.

2. Which superpower would you choose a) being invisible? b) reading people's minds? c) stopping time?

Well, hmmm. Invisibility would be cool sometimes - I sure would work out a lot more if no one could see me huffing and puffing and sweating away, for example, or those times when I'm out in public with a melting-down kid, it sure would be great to be invisible then... Reading people's minds would also be cool, but could be very dangerous, as well. I mean, do I really want to know what people are thinking about me, really? *shudder* Pretending people are thinking well of me is probably the safer route for my ego, so no, not reading minds after all. (Though I suppose it would come in very handy with Kiddo, who at the age of 5 and a half has already perfected the monosyllabic grunt answer to questions like "How was your day at school?") Stopping time, hmmm, like Hiro on Heroes (which is on again starting tonight, woo-hoo!)? That could be good - I could keep Kiddo from bonking her noggin or skinning her knees, get the cat moved from the carpet to the linoleum *before* she gacked up that ginormous, juicy hairball, assist Hubby's golf game with an astounding amount of birdies - eagles, even! - prevent folks from sliding off the roads in all this snow and ice we just. Keep. Getting..... Yep, I think I'm going to go with stopping time.

3. What would your superhero name be?

This was a tough one. I was pondering aloud via my Facebook status and one of my old high school friends helpfully sent me a link to a site that generates your Superhero or Villian name. You have to plug in different variables (up to three) and then it will give you your name suggestions.

I scrolled through the list of variables, and decided that these were the best three for describing myself:



I mean, I'm whiter than the driven snow (skintone-wise), especially this time of year. (Hubby and I often joke that folks can always tell when we were outdoors in the summer because of the blinding glare thrown off our pasty white skin.) I am a jokester (of what caliber - whether "humorous" really is applicable, I cannot unbiasedly judge), and my shape does change, albeit generally between StayPuft, Doughboy and Jabba.

This is what came up for my variables........



Hmmm, definitely some possibilities there. I especially like Pale Girl and Fool Laugh.

I changed up the variables a bit (after deciding I am at least Queen of my own Insanity, if not my kingdom.........):



And came up with these:



Giggle Baroness? Oooh, that's good - royalty *and* it reminds me of The Sound of Music. Hmmm, I'll need to think a bit more on it and get back to you later.......

4. Name your top three crushes - real, fictional, past or present.

Okay, real (as well as past and present!):



(wasn't that obvious?)

Fictional:



and



From the past:







I know, that's more than three. I just couldn't narrow it down any further!

And now, it is time for me, Giggleo (pronounced Giggle-Oh, thankyouverymuch), to get motivated and off to the store. We're on a new mission to eat most of the food in the pantry (which is overflowing) and chest freezer before we move, so theoretically, grocery shopping should be a quick and painless task. Theoretically, anyhow... If anyone else wants to take a stab at this meme, give me a shout and I'll give you some questions!

Random ramblings on a wintery weekend

I've been pondering my dry, dry, drrrrrryyyyyyy skin this morning. I'm not sure if my skin is closer to this:
this:

or perhaps this: Now, while I've never touched an alligator, they are the animals that one usually sees in the commercials for dry skin remedies. I have actually touched both a rhino and an elephant, and I think overall, my skin (especially in winter, when I'm not as likely to shave my legs quite as often as I do in the summer) is more similar to that of an elephant, as elephants have hairier skin than I recall rhinos having. I remember the rhinos' skin as being surprisingly smooth, whereas the elephants were a bit prickly.

At any rate, my skin definitely doesn't feel terribly human this time of year. Between the weather, the wind, and the more-frequent handwashing/sanitizing due to it being cold and flu season, my skin is suffering. It always does in the winters.

When I mentioned in my last post that my skin is dry and that I have tried many, many products with which to moisturize it, I wasn't kidding.
This is just a random sampling of the products I had close at hand when I decided to take a picture of them today. There are others lurking on shelves and counters, in cabinets and drawers. Some of the smaller tubes came out of my purse, because as well as carrying a small bottle of hand sanitizer and antibacterial wipes with me, I also carry lotion to try and counteract the damage I'm doing by sanitizing. As to the rest of them... clearly, I am a woman who is swayed by marketing, willing to believe any promise of smooth, soft skin that resembles none of the wildlife pictures above. Clearly, I am also a woman who does not frequently throw things away. Like, for example, those two bottles of "makes you look tanner" moisturizer/lotion. I'd heard good - even great! - things about those, so I cut out a coupon for them one Sunday and trotted off to the store. I bought the kind designated for "fair" skin, because at my absolute darkest, I'm still pretty dang fair. I did not at all like the color they turned either my legs (the body lotion stuff) or my face (the facial moisturizer stuff). It did darken my skin, but only in a "my goodness, but she looks like she could stand to have a liver transplant" jaundiced sort of way. Haven't opened either of those in years. They're still mostly full. I haven't thrown them out, though, because you never know when I might want to look orangey-yellow again, I mean, maybe the next time I try them, they'll work better.... ha. (Actually, those tanny-tinty ones kind of *do* make my skin look like that Rhino in the picture above!)

Anyhow, thanks for all the suggestions on moisturizers and lotions. Maybe this winter, I will find something that works well and yet doesn't make me break the heck out, too!

***
So, two weeks down, with five workouts a week. I no longer am quite like this, and with any luck, I'll be all buff like Homer (ha ha ha) in two months, too, though I'm eating oatmeal and drinking green tea for breakfast instead of eating Powersauce bars....


Hee! At the very least, I can pronounce the name of the place I've been dragging myself to each morning after Kiddo gets on the bus..... it's the "why?!?!?!"



***

Hubby and I are planning on going to the movies on Monday, sans Kiddo. (Woo-hoo!) We really want to see Slumdog Millionaire, but we also really want to use our Fandango gift card that my brother and sister-in-law gave us for Christmas, and it isn't playing at any of the local theaters that use Fandango. Grrrr. So, our options are either going to be to (a) see something else and use our Fandango gift card - and goodness knows, we haven't seen *anything* that's playing now other than Bolt, so we ought to have plenty of options, or (b) pay for the tickets ourselves to see Slumdog Millionaire. We haven't quite decided yet which option we will go with, but either way, a movie.....in a theater.....that isn't animated.....possibly with popcorn, even....... *swooooooon*

***

Speaking of *swooooooning* - Ellen has finally landed George Clooney as a guest. I love Ellen, but don't watch daytime TV really, other than the news first thing in the morning (so, before 6:30am) and then the Today Show or Regis and Kelly while I'm at the gym. I sort of vaguely knew that Ellen's had some recurring thing about getting George Clooney to be on her show, and I just read that he will be on this coming Monday. Totally setting the DVR for that one, woot woot!

***
In other TV-related news, only FIVE MORE DAYS until Lost finally premieres!!!! Lost is one of my most favorite shows EVER in the history of television, so needless to say, I'm a wee bit excited. Then, adding to the "oh my goodness!" levels of excitement, I came across this story on E! Online this morning.... The season of Sawyer?!?! Be still, my beating heart!!!

***
It is currently five degrees outside. (That'd be Fahrenheit, for all you international folks out there who wonder why I'm pointing this out. Then again, I suppose 5 degrees Celsius is also not terribly warm.) This cold spell we're in is supposed to end by tomorrow though, with temperatures soaring all the way back up into the 20s. (That'd be a wee bit of sarcasm...) At the rate this weather is going, it will be May before Hubby braves the outdoors long enough to take down the outside Christmas lights. I unplugged them the weekend after New Year's, but they're still up there. At least all the other Christmas stuff (aka the indoor stuff) has been put away for weeks now.

***
We have started giving Kiddo a weekly allowance. She has three piggy banks (thanks to her aunt and uncle who gave them to her for Christmas, knowing this was our allowance plan), designated as SPEND, SAVE and CHARITY respectively. Each week, she gets $.75 that gets divided evenly between the three banks. (Hey, I said we were giving her an allowance, I didn't say it was a BIG allowance...) Her current plan is to save up enough money in her SPEND piggy bank to buy some new clothes for her Barbie dolls (she has three; Birthday Barbie, Surfing Ken and Cinderella Barbie). Right now, the SAVE piggy bank is earmarked for our trip to Disney World next summer, but it may not last quite that long. She wants to use the CHARITY earnings for helping kids who don't have food or toys, so we'll figure out an appropriate charity to donate that money to once there is enough collected.

I never had an allowance when I was growing up. (I did have a savings account at the bank - one of the old-school, passbook kind of accounts - into which I put the money I earned through my 4-H market lamb and other endeavors each year.) Hubby and I think there are valuable lessons to be learned with an allowance, and Kiddo is now old enough to understand the concept of money to some decent degree, so we decided we'd go for it. One of the biggest perks to it for me that I've found so far is that now, if we're out at a store and Kiddo starts asking me to buy her something, I can defer her to her allowance and it makes her stop asking (or whining) and also makes her think more seriously about whether the item that has momentarily caught her fancy is really worth spending money to acquire.

***
So, those of you with kids, do you give them an allowance? If so, how much at what age and how do you do it? Is everyone else sticking with their New Year's Resolutions (if you made any)? If your resolution was like mine - to get in shape - how are you doing? (Thus far, I've lost a measly two pounds, but I haven't been killing it at the gym, though I intend to step it up a bit starting next week. There's a Latin dance exercise class I walked past on my way out yesterday that looked intriguing, and I'm going to see if I can join it for the rest of this session. If not, it will definitely be a next-session goal!) Any good movie suggestions in case we opt for the non-Slumdog Millionaire route? Any hints on how to do better at Wii Mario Kart, like which character to race as and which vehicle to drive? What daytime TV shows do you watch? Anyone else psyched for the start of Lost on Wednesday? (Boy, the PTA meeting better get out on time so I don't miss a second of it!!) Anyone have exciting weekend plans? We're going to Disney on Ice tomorrow, and I can't wait!

In closing, I will leave you with the link to the Human video from The Killers. I caught about 15 seconds of it while flipping channels early the other morning, and the song has been firmly lodged in my head ever since. I am going to download it to my iPod, I think... the lyrics may be silly, but it is downright catchy nonetheless, and I am a fan of the band. So, one last question: Are we human, or are we dancer?

Mmmmmmeme!

There's this alphabet meme that's been making the rounds of the blogosphere, and the always delightful Georgie gave me a letter so I could play, too! Thanks, Georgie!! She gave me the letter M, and now I have to come up with ten things I like that start with M... As many other meme-attempters have said, this is harder than it looks, as it turns out! Here goes:

1. Motherhood.


Best thing ever. 'Nuff said.

2. Movies.


Love 'em, and don't get to see enough of 'em these days, either in the theater (especially in the theater!) or even on DVD. I can't wait until Kiddo is old enough that Hubby and I can resume our moviegoing habits without having to worry about being able to make that month's mortgage payment so we can hire a sitter AND see a movie.

3. Music.


Just about any kind, except heavy/death metal, opera and most rap or hip-hop. Otherwise, I'm your girl! From showtunes to classical to 80s pop to country to gospel to rock to folk, oh yeah, it's all good. (My love of music and relative talent in the area does not, however, mean I can dance. I can't. I'm hopeless on a dance floor.)

4. Macaroni and cheese.

Preferably with bacon. Hey, these chins didn't grow themselves, you know. It took help. Help and laziness in the kitchen come dinnertime.

5. Uh-oh, I'm not even halfway through yet and I'm drawing a blank. I'm strongly tempted to say Meorge Mlooney, but I'll save that for if I get really desperate round about number 9 or 10. How about, instead, I'll go with Musicals.


Different than music, I think, as a "musical" is a type of theatrical production. I love musicals. LOVE them. I'm a Broadway Baby. What's that? You want to know my top ten, all time favorite musicals? Well, since you asked and in alphabetical, not favorites order....

• A Chorus Line
• Anything Goes
• Cabaret
• Cats
• Chicago
• Guys and Dolls
• Hello, Dolly!
• La Cage Aux Folles
• Les Miserables
• The Lion King

6. Magicians.
Well, not *all* magicians - that Criss Angel dude freaks me out and David Blaine annoys the heck out of me. (I'm thinking they probably consider themselves "illusionists" or something instead of straight-out magicians, anyhow.) Penn and Teller, though? They rock! I used to make a point out of going to see their show at least once whenever Hubby and I went to Vegas, often on my own as Hubby preferred playing poker to seeing a show he'd seen before. Another great magician who works in Vegas is Mac King. When we saw him, I laughed hard enough to give myself a severe side cramp. Funny and amazing at the close-up magic, who could ask for anything more? Heck, I even am a Siegfried and Roy fan - we saw their show, too. (I even saw their 3-D IMAX movie - in the theater - back in the day.) It's not just Vegas magicians, though - any magician who is halfway decent, better if they're funny as well.

7. Merriment and Mirth (wow, a twofer!). I love to be happy, I love to laugh. (Who doesn't?) My default mode is to always look for the sunny side of life. Unless I've got PMS, in which case all I want to look for is a bag of Cheez Doodles, a bar or six of chocolate, and a comfy spot to curl up upon and moan. But other than those few days, I'm all about sunshine and happiness and humor and smiles and joy, and those things that bring them, like

7.5. Muppets!



8. Mignon, filet.


(Yeah, I'm cheating a bit - still it's better than busting out Meorge Mlooney!) Medium rare, preferably with Bearnaise sauce and/or wrapped in bacon. I have it at most once a year if I'm lucky, but I love it.

9. Milk.
Well, actually, any and all milk products, aka dairy. Again, these chins (and thigh rolls, hip rolls, belly rolls and back rolls) didn't grow themselves, and you can't put that much pressure on a poor, little box of macaroni and cheese. See, cheese. Mmmm, cheese. Sour cream. Ice cream. Whipped cream. Butter. Yogurt. Cottage cheese. If it is made from something that came out of a cow's udder, I am a fan. I even like milk, straight up (or, of course, with chocolate sauce or Ovaltine. Mmmmmm, Ovaltine....)

10. Okay, for my tenth and final Favorite Thing that Starts with the Letter M, I've got a good one, especially given my recent wedding anniversary (and thanks for all the good wishes, y'all! You're all so sweet!): Matrimony. Marriage. There's nothing like it, and hopefully the day isn't too far off when everyone can get married, regardless of with whom it is they fall in love...



All right, there are my 10, and I didn't even have to use Meorge (or Malan Mickman or Meddie Mizzard, either) to get there. Whew. Anyone else want to play? Let me know and I'll happily give you a letter!