Saturday, October 10, 2009

The Week in Review

I guess you could say we've had a bad week here at casa de me.

It all started innocently enough with a trip to the movies on Sunday. We enlisted my mother to babysit LG and we took the boys to see the Toy Story 2 3D double feature. Somehow this sounded like a good idea....

$44 dollars in admission tickets later, plus $14 in popcorn and diet Coke (candy from Target was stashed in my purse) and we were in, equipped with nifty black 3D glasses.

Here's where it gets hairy. To expect your 3 and 4 year olds to sit through one movie is a large enough request? But a double feature? Eeek. Not to mention that as an adult, sitting through a double feature of kids' movies was like erasing half of my college education. If that lands me on Oprah as a bad mom a la the mom they had hang out with NieNie because she would rather kill herself than play with Play-doh, sobeit.

The boys sure did look swell in their glasses though.

Tuesday Cole emerged from his slumber and announced, with eyes barely open, that he was sick. Sick in his mouth. Translation: he has a sore throat. Fever followed, although in typical Cole style he was generally well tempered. I dutifully kept him home from school on Wednesday, of which he was happy. He really likes to stay home with me. I think it's sweet.

Later on that morning, just as I was about to sound the "all clear" whistle on Cole's sickness, the school called--Mason was running a fever. Drat. I dutifully collected my second sick boy from school.

Mason is a quick study. He saw Cole sick that morning and the day before and noticed the extra babying he got. So Mason was ready for his share. I, being the good mommy that I am (mommy dearest??) delivered. I set them up on the couch with pillows and Ruffies and movies galore. We all snuggled together. My to do list grew and grew.

Thursday is a no school day for Cole, and Mason I kept home due to the prior day's fever. And if by noontime they weren't about to kill each other and me kill them, I'll be a monkey's uncle. Or Aunt.


"He's got my toy!!!!"



"He pushed me."

I was ready to medicate. Both me and them.

Surely after Thursday's display of rambunctiousness they were healthy enough for school on Friday. So off they went at 8:30am.

8:57 am. Caller ID -- Preschool.

Hi Ashley, this is Miss Alexandra. Cole has a fever.

"Say what?" I say. He's not had a fever since Tuesday, a whole 72 hours!

A call to Dr. Bob was in order, and being the fantastic pediatrician's office that they are we were set up with an appointment at 11am.

The verdict--Cole has an ear infection.

Good news--that's not contagious.

Bad news--that's why he's feverish.

It was lunchtime, I was spent from the past four days of sick children, so we went home. I would send daddy out for the prescription later.

Cole deteriorated throughout the afternoon. Soon he was literally delirious from the fever, sweating buckets and passing out on the couch. I felt awful for him.

Rey came home an hour or so earlier than usual and headed out with Mason and Lila to fill Cole's prescription.

Ten minutes went by and I got a phone call.

Ash, we've been in an accident.

Your heart does really drop right into your stomach when you hear that your children have been in an accident. Rey assured me they seem okay and I rushed over to collect my oldest and youngest from the side of the road.

Enter complication (there's always a complication). I can't fit three car seat in the back of Rey's Jeep.

Enter another complication. We have two spare booster seats that the boys use on rare occasions, but not a seat for Lila (you're not supposed to reuse seats if they've been in a crash, this much I knew).

I called Keri, who came to the rescue in her black Batmobile with hubby and kids in tow. Mason was all too pleased to ride in her car and I am told he chatted the whole way home.

We used Cole's seat for Lila since his was unoccupied in the crash. Later I found out this is a no-no. Even unoccupied seats need to be replaced. This whole thing is becoming a pain in my tush... but I digress.

The girl who hit Rey was a teenager. The accident report dates her birth year at 1993. 1993!!!! I am seriously having a hard time coming to grips with the fact that people who were born in 1993 are legally allowed to drive.

My parents didn't let me get my license until I was 17. My sister was almost 18. I am thinking there might be something to this.

Her little Toyota Corolla was smashed in almost to the dash. I thought this was a bad sign of car safety but my father corrected me that crumpling is a good thing to protect the driver. Makes sense.

The mvan did me proud. She held up well, although her entire ass is shifted up about 6 inches. The parking sensors are hanging out and there was holes all over the plastic. Of course the back hatch doesn't open. My Bugaboo is being held hostage back there. Since it folds the way it does, we can't get it over the seat. We can't put the seat down to free it because the third row seats in the Honda fold down into the cargo area in which the hostage is occurring. I don't see how we're going to get it free without becoming a member of the Cirque de Soleil or something...

We spent all day trying to get the insurance company get us a rental that will carry our whole family places. All at once. Apparently this is a big request. Listen people, I don't drive the mvan because it's sexy, alright? I actually need all those seats for people.

Finally, after I kid you not, four hours and a 30 minute car ride, we have a rental mvan. A red Dodge that is such a base model I am lucky it has power steering. Rey is making fun of me. I can no longer back up without assistance of a backup camera and parking sensors. I'm ruined, alright?

Like spell check and calculators before it, back up cameras are ruining the intelligence and skills of people worldwide.

Myself included. Except I can still spell.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Through the Looking Glass

I know I don't look bad. In fact without sounded like a total ass I'm looking damn good right now (well earned!). But it's hard to stare at yourself in a mirror and not find the flaws. It's ingrained in us as Americans. The "Mad Men" of the real world have made sure of it. Make us insecure, we will buy your junk.

So instead of actually laying my real eyes on my mirror image, I am choosing to look through my "third eye", if you will.

Alright, so don't think I'm crazy. It's the yogini in me, what can I say? She's out today.

My kids are sick, so instead of my intended treadmill run at the gym yesterday morning I was forced to take it to the streets at an ungodly hour so Rey could watch the kids before he left for work. Half marathon training waits for no one, and yesterday was my "short run" day.

As I completed my three mile jaunt with ease, I thought back to the first day I tried running post Lila (this was last October 31st, to be exact). I planned to run 60 seconds/walk 2 minutes until 30 minutes was up.

I made it about 12 minutes before ending up at home, collapsed on my living room floor.

I was pretty sure I was dying.

I had never in my life been out of shape before. Reality set in that this is what happens after you've ejected three human beings from your body. The third one definitely took it's toll, fo' so'.

It took me a month to recover from this incident. Then I joined the gym.

Now I am, to my own shock and disbelief, training to run a half marathon. That's 13.1 miles, people. Cause I think running 26.2 is a little nuts. (Maybe next year!)

And as I looped my neighborhood this morning, it was hard not to think back to that morning, 11 months ago. Where then I felt desperation, now I feel defiance. Then I felt the failure, now I feel fierce. That me was weak. This me is tenacious.

So even though it's hard for me to ignore the imperfections, it's easy to see my strength.

You've got to ac-cent-uate the positive
Eliminate the negative
Latch on to the affirmative
Eliminate Mr. InBetween

Bing Crosby, gotta love him.

It's hard to be the body you were before birth, but it's amazing how strong you can become despite it. Or in spite of it.

Take your pick.

Saturday, October 3, 2009

The Dee Dub--CRT

If you're a typical, non-Disney obsessed person, are unaware of the acronym lingo and don't know what "CRT" stands for, I'm here to help you out.

Cinderella's Royal Table.

It is The Dee Dub's most elusive reservation. People call at 7:00:01am EST 90 days before they want to dine (the earliest you can) to secure a spot with her. Many will try, few will succeed.

But somehow, succeed we did.

I was sorta obsessed with making princess dresses for the girls for this auspicious occasion. The whole thing started with the idea to make a Cinderella dress that wasn't an actual costume, but that anyone could tell was a Cinderella dress. Given as I had learned to sew like five minutes earlier, it was definitely a labor of love. This is what resulted.

Siennah got to be Cindy, and I ended up making a pink one for Lila and a yellow one for Savannah, a la Aurora and Belle. They were just dar. Belle wasn't there though, which left me wishing I'd gone with my original gut and made a Snow White dress (she was there, along with Jasmine and of course Aurora). But I digress.

One reason people want a CRT ressie is so that you can meet Cinderella without waiting in line for a lifetime. I am here to argue the untruth to that idea. I am convinced Disney is not happy if you are not waiting in a line. Or several.

First, you wait in line to check in. This line was, oh I don't know, ten people long?

Then, once you're checked in you wait in line again, for what? At that point you are unsure--it's an adventure! But as you reach the front of the line and enter the castle doors, you realize--you're waiting in line to wait in another line.

You stand in a room with a bunch of other parents, the goal being Cinderella. At least she's there for all to see, this abates some of the agony with waiting. But the children get bored quickly, and soon it's just a room full of parents trying to corral their children. It's especially bad with the boys. The girls have their eyes on the prize, some are awestruck in the very presence of Cindy, but the boys are just their for the sake of their sisters. And being their for the sake of something doesn't make rambunctiousness disappear. (Wouldn't that be nice?)

After you meet Cindy and have your photo taken with her, you're shuttled up a winding staircase that's downright creepy. I was wondering if we were on our way to our punishment for the boys being so unruly in the Cindy line.

But nope, being dreary and creepy is part of the castle's allure, apparently.

The dining room was the same way. It struck me as to how most of Disney Princess related things are sunny and cheery--not this place. It was real castle-esque, complete with brick walls and an old house aroma.

The food was fantastic, tied with Ohana (covered in the next post) for the best meal at Disney. The waiter recommended Major Domo's Pie and I thank him for that--it was Majorly Delish.

It all went downhill when we were done eating, the kids had been there too long, and all you-know-what was breaking loose. The waiter was just not returning with the bill to sign after we'd given them the cards. People were leaving who were still eating when we paid! The longer we waited the more unruly the children became and the higher my blood boiled. We couldn't even take the kids to the bathroom because both stalls were occupied with, ahem, sick children (I was hoping it wasn't that pie of Domo's that was their demise). The mommies absconded with the kids and left the daddies to deal with the delay. It was good that I got out of there or I could have gone postal on someone. And that's just not suitable for a castle.

So the verdict--if you can get a reservation, strap on some patience and take your daughter. She'll enjoy the princesses and you will enjoy Major Domo's pie if you heed my words and order it. If you have a son he'll enjoy the sword they gift to the little "princes." I do so love when people hand my children long pointy objects.

And if you're wondering why there's no pictures, I didn't take any. It was my job to feed two insatiable babies. ; )

Thursday, October 1, 2009


We interrupt our regularly scheduled Disney blogging for a post about Lila.

Yesterday morning it was a dull, gray, raining awakening. It was depressing to say the least. But by the time I went to get the boys from school, the sun was shining, and it was ONLY 76 degrees!!!

We Floridians suffer through an insufferable summer. It's hot, it's sweaty, so humid you could practically swim through the air... and you people up north don't know how we do it. Truth be told, neither do we.

But then suddenly, and without warning, you begin to reap the rewards. One day you feel a hint of the cool air and can hardly believe what you're feeling. Summer is ending and you're so incredulous to the whole idea that you have to be convinced of that.

That's how I feel about Lila right now. Her babyhood, almost overnight, is ending. A couple of days ago I was watching her walk and noticing how toddlerlike she seems. It was a revelation.

She is a tiny girl, and coupled with the fact that she doesn't have much hair has kept her babyish a little longer than most. But just as I can see the weather is changing, I can see that she's changing, too.

And then, she started peeing on the potty. I kid you not. While we were at Disney, she started going over to the potty at the hotel and pulling her bloomers or shorts down. So we started putting her on the potty and she would laugh! The second time we put her on, she peed. Now she goes on every night before bathtime, and pees without fail. If you don't put her on, she pees in the tub, so it's in the best interest of hygiene to put her on. *I* am not ready for her to potty train. I highly doubt *she* is. Why must she rush this growing up business?

She runs. Her little, shoe loving feet pitter patter all the way.

Her hugs! Oh her hugs!! I still think Cole had a lock on the baby hugs, but Lila's are different and wonderful in their own way. She wraps her arms around your neck, lays her head on your shoulder, and gives you so much love.

Her personality evolves every single day, sometimes rearing its ugly head. It's clear she's going to be a strong willed little diva, and I'm cool with that. I am that, so it's only fitting. But even when she's ornery, I love it all the same.

But her sunny disposition always returns.

Things I'm going to miss:

~Her dependence. Independence is refreshing and relieving, but sometimes it's nice to be needed by someone.

~Having a "baby". There's nothing else like it.

~Her morning nap. She's kinda switching to one nap a day and it's throwing my whole schedule with the boys through a loop.

Things I'm looking forward too:

~More hair on her precious little head. She loves to have her hair brushed, but being as most of it is on the back of her head and very little is on the top, we haven't gotten the chance to play beauty shop yet.

~Her talking more and more. Granted much of what she's saying right now is a defiant "nnneoooo" or a demanding "ah da" (all done, so get me out of here lady).

~Her to enjoy shopping more. Cause right now she hates it. And that just doesn't work for me.

Change, it is a-coming.