While driving down the shore the day after we returned from Disney World (because obviously I enjoy inflicting pain on myself), Monkey Man asked hubby a question. This question was prompted by his prime seating arrangement in the backseat.
Monkey Man: "Daddy, in my head, do I have a big, bolt part like you?"
Mommy: (I'm thinking, is something sticking out on hubby's head like Frankenstein? What does he mean?) "Bolt part?" I asked, wondering what he saw.
Monkey Man: "Yeah, a bolt part. Like on Daddy's head."
Mommy & Daddy: Lightbulbs go on over head, hysterial laughing begins (more of MY hysterical laughing than hubby's)I asked, "Do you mean a BALD spot?"
Hubby: To me, "Don't even think of writing a blog post about this," as I reached down to find any available scrap of paper and a pen.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Thursday, August 5, 2010
9 Things I Learned from Disney World Part II
5. I need to have my own laptop with me.
I thought that 4 laptops in one house would be more than plenty for me to get a little computer time to get some work done. I checked in with my niece before we left figuring if she were bringing hers, I could use it. She said it was fine. Then I found out that her 2 friends also had theirs, and my oldest nephew brought his. Okey Dokey, lots of computers for me. However, there were 7 people between the ages of 15-22. READ: 36 year-old that actually has to do a little work (fine, and not lose touch with the social media world) does not get first dibs on computer. That, and we didn't have wireless, which means only ONE laptop could be plugged in to the internet (Yo, Disney, it's 2010 and we pay like a bajillion dollars for this vacation each year, throw us one of Pluto's damn bones!) So there I waited while this one did some internet shopping and that one played poker. With all that spare time, you'd think someone could have made more lemonade. (See #1 from Part I)
6. Colgate's disposable toothbrushes ROCK.
Colgate, if you are reading this, I will happily advertise your fabulously awesome Wisp Disposable Toothbrushes on my blog. For a fee, of course - mama's gotta make the cash money. For those of you not in the know, Colgate makes these small toothbrushes with a dot of toothpaste in the middle neatly prepackaged to carry with you in toothbrushing emergencies. Now, maybe you have never encountered a toothbrushing emergency, but being Monkey Man's mom, a 12 day vacation in Disney World is one giant toothbrushing emergency. Colgate Wisps saved me on several evenings when we were out late and he was going to fall asleep on the ride home. Yes, I looked like a crazy woman brushing Monkey Man's teeth on a bench in Epcot, but my dental OCD was calmed knowing that his awesome dinner of french fries and a Mickey ice cream pop were now thoroughly washed out of his teeth. Colgate - call me. I'll totally be your advertising bitch.
7. I am not an alcoholic.
Now, this is not news to me. I never thought I was an alcoholic. However, with access to alcohol at my fingertips, at every park, the pool bar, or, say, my monogrammed flask - well, if I were to ever succumb to some latent addiction lurking in my body, this trip would have definitely had me detoxing at Betty Ford.
8. Pay more careful attention to "that time of the month" when booking my trip to Disney.
Because for the 2 weeks I spent on what should be a happy and magical vacation, yeah, I had PMS AND a visit from Aunt Flo. Maybe that's too much information. However, I'm pretty confident that the lemonade might not have sent me over the edge had it not been for my special friend. And maybe that explains the inhalation of donuts. (See #4 from Part I)
9. There is nothing like being with a 5 year-old in Disney World.
The way Monkey Man's face lit up EVERY TIME he took his picture with a character. Getting two thumbs up and "That was better than better than awesome" when he got off Space Mountain. Clinging to his dad for dear life on Tower of Terror then announcing how it was the best ride ever when it was over. Well, it makes it all totally worth it.
Monkey Man asks Pluto to show his muscles!
Monkey Man and Hubby watching the parade at the Magic Kingdom
Monkey Man and Hubby locked up with Zurg
Me, Monkey Man and Hubby at Fort Wilderness before the Hoop Dee Doo Revue
I thought that 4 laptops in one house would be more than plenty for me to get a little computer time to get some work done. I checked in with my niece before we left figuring if she were bringing hers, I could use it. She said it was fine. Then I found out that her 2 friends also had theirs, and my oldest nephew brought his. Okey Dokey, lots of computers for me. However, there were 7 people between the ages of 15-22. READ: 36 year-old that actually has to do a little work (fine, and not lose touch with the social media world) does not get first dibs on computer. That, and we didn't have wireless, which means only ONE laptop could be plugged in to the internet (Yo, Disney, it's 2010 and we pay like a bajillion dollars for this vacation each year, throw us one of Pluto's damn bones!) So there I waited while this one did some internet shopping and that one played poker. With all that spare time, you'd think someone could have made more lemonade. (See #1 from Part I)
6. Colgate's disposable toothbrushes ROCK.
Colgate, if you are reading this, I will happily advertise your fabulously awesome Wisp Disposable Toothbrushes on my blog. For a fee, of course - mama's gotta make the cash money. For those of you not in the know, Colgate makes these small toothbrushes with a dot of toothpaste in the middle neatly prepackaged to carry with you in toothbrushing emergencies. Now, maybe you have never encountered a toothbrushing emergency, but being Monkey Man's mom, a 12 day vacation in Disney World is one giant toothbrushing emergency. Colgate Wisps saved me on several evenings when we were out late and he was going to fall asleep on the ride home. Yes, I looked like a crazy woman brushing Monkey Man's teeth on a bench in Epcot, but my dental OCD was calmed knowing that his awesome dinner of french fries and a Mickey ice cream pop were now thoroughly washed out of his teeth. Colgate - call me. I'll totally be your advertising bitch.
7. I am not an alcoholic.
Now, this is not news to me. I never thought I was an alcoholic. However, with access to alcohol at my fingertips, at every park, the pool bar, or, say, my monogrammed flask - well, if I were to ever succumb to some latent addiction lurking in my body, this trip would have definitely had me detoxing at Betty Ford.
8. Pay more careful attention to "that time of the month" when booking my trip to Disney.
Because for the 2 weeks I spent on what should be a happy and magical vacation, yeah, I had PMS AND a visit from Aunt Flo. Maybe that's too much information. However, I'm pretty confident that the lemonade might not have sent me over the edge had it not been for my special friend. And maybe that explains the inhalation of donuts. (See #4 from Part I)
9. There is nothing like being with a 5 year-old in Disney World.
The way Monkey Man's face lit up EVERY TIME he took his picture with a character. Getting two thumbs up and "That was better than better than awesome" when he got off Space Mountain. Clinging to his dad for dear life on Tower of Terror then announcing how it was the best ride ever when it was over. Well, it makes it all totally worth it.
Monkey Man asks Pluto to show his muscles!
Monkey Man and Hubby watching the parade at the Magic Kingdom
Monkey Man and Hubby locked up with Zurg
Me, Monkey Man and Hubby at Fort Wilderness before the Hoop Dee Doo Revue
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
9 Things I Learned from Disney World 2010
I have been to Walt Disney World 25 times. And during this last trip, I learned a few things. I now present Part I of the 9 Things I Learned from Disney World 2010.
1. I am not fit for group living.
This is not to say I am not a good candidate for the kind of group living associated with a mental institution (which, after this vacation, I might have to check myself into) But, Assisted Living? Totally different. I can't wait to check myself into a place that has a schedule of events each day including Bingo at 3 p.m., a Social Dance at 4 p.m., followed by a dinner that someone else made and a little bowl of ice cream. Totally worth the $4,200 per month. Had I ever been cast (had a I ever auditioned then been cast) for a show such as The Real World or Big Brother or some other group-home based reality show, I would have been THAT girl. THAT girl that loses her sh*t when, say, someone drinks all the lemonade and leaves the empty pitcher on the counter for someone else to refill (this may or may not have happened in Disney). For someone (me) that my husband would describe as almost a hermit but not quite due to my (I think) pretty adept social skills and occasional want to get out of the house, this vacation was like a teacher reading my IEP (Individualized Education Plan) which clearly states, "Doesn't like loud noises and bright flashing lights" then sticking me in the middle of Studio 54 in 1977. Note: There were 14 people in our grand villa at Old Key West (shhh, we're only supposed to have 12). 14 bodies spread throughout 3 bedrooms, 4 baths, a living room, dining room, and kitchen. Everywhere I turned, there was a person. Loud noises, flashing lights, loud noises, flashing lights...
2. Make sure to bring the nail color of my pedicure with me.
A sunny, perky Essie Tangerine pedicure will become a dull, chipped mess after just 4 days in chlorine and sun. If I didn't pay $32 for ice cream the other night, I could have afforded another pedi down at the spa.
3. Central Florida in July is beginning to be a bad idea.
Although I LOATHE the cold of winter, I have become rather bitter towards the "oppressive" (weather.com's word to describe the heat in Orlando this week. Thank you Capt. Obvious) heat of a Florida summer. We have been coming to Disney World every summer since 1993, and although each time it has been very hot, this is the first time I remember nearly passing out in a park. No exaggeration. I stood like a good mom watching Monkey Man become a Padawan (that's a Jedi in training, for those of you who don't know. But why would you know? In fact, you shouldn't know. I'm married to a Star Wars geek) in the Star Wars show at Hollywood Studios, and prayed for him to just friggin' be the next kid to fight Darth Vader already so I could get a picture (it also became apparent on this trip that I pray in Jersey slang). Because when I started to feel a chill in the 96 degree heat with 70% humidity, something told me that just wasn't right. Monkey Man got his turn, whacked Darth in the head with his light saber then I ran off and drank 32 ounces of water in 4 seconds flat while bathing myself in the women's restroom sink. I was fine, but vowed to not step foot into one of those asphalt cauldrons, aka another park, for the remainder of our stay.
4. Entenmann's chocolate donuts are not an appropriate breakfast.
Or lunch. Or 11:30 p.m. snack. Damn you, Entenmann's. There is a place in hell waiting for you. It became a tradition sometime around Disney 1994 to hitch an Entenmann's trailer full of their chocolate donuts to my parents' minivan just to make extra sure that we had 39 boxes for a 12 day stay. And every morning, I wake up and eat my Fiber One cereal because I'm also working out every other day to keep up my somewhat healthy eating and exercise lifestyle. 20 minutes after my Fiber One, I not only have to go to the bathroom, I have to have a donut. Because it's there. And it's Entenmann's and they fill their snacks with crack.
The last lonely boxes that were cruelly assaulted before check-out.
To be continued...
1. I am not fit for group living.
This is not to say I am not a good candidate for the kind of group living associated with a mental institution (which, after this vacation, I might have to check myself into) But, Assisted Living? Totally different. I can't wait to check myself into a place that has a schedule of events each day including Bingo at 3 p.m., a Social Dance at 4 p.m., followed by a dinner that someone else made and a little bowl of ice cream. Totally worth the $4,200 per month. Had I ever been cast (had a I ever auditioned then been cast) for a show such as The Real World or Big Brother or some other group-home based reality show, I would have been THAT girl. THAT girl that loses her sh*t when, say, someone drinks all the lemonade and leaves the empty pitcher on the counter for someone else to refill (this may or may not have happened in Disney). For someone (me) that my husband would describe as almost a hermit but not quite due to my (I think) pretty adept social skills and occasional want to get out of the house, this vacation was like a teacher reading my IEP (Individualized Education Plan) which clearly states, "Doesn't like loud noises and bright flashing lights" then sticking me in the middle of Studio 54 in 1977. Note: There were 14 people in our grand villa at Old Key West (shhh, we're only supposed to have 12). 14 bodies spread throughout 3 bedrooms, 4 baths, a living room, dining room, and kitchen. Everywhere I turned, there was a person. Loud noises, flashing lights, loud noises, flashing lights...
2. Make sure to bring the nail color of my pedicure with me.
A sunny, perky Essie Tangerine pedicure will become a dull, chipped mess after just 4 days in chlorine and sun. If I didn't pay $32 for ice cream the other night, I could have afforded another pedi down at the spa.
3. Central Florida in July is beginning to be a bad idea.
Although I LOATHE the cold of winter, I have become rather bitter towards the "oppressive" (weather.com's word to describe the heat in Orlando this week. Thank you Capt. Obvious) heat of a Florida summer. We have been coming to Disney World every summer since 1993, and although each time it has been very hot, this is the first time I remember nearly passing out in a park. No exaggeration. I stood like a good mom watching Monkey Man become a Padawan (that's a Jedi in training, for those of you who don't know. But why would you know? In fact, you shouldn't know. I'm married to a Star Wars geek) in the Star Wars show at Hollywood Studios, and prayed for him to just friggin' be the next kid to fight Darth Vader already so I could get a picture (it also became apparent on this trip that I pray in Jersey slang). Because when I started to feel a chill in the 96 degree heat with 70% humidity, something told me that just wasn't right. Monkey Man got his turn, whacked Darth in the head with his light saber then I ran off and drank 32 ounces of water in 4 seconds flat while bathing myself in the women's restroom sink. I was fine, but vowed to not step foot into one of those asphalt cauldrons, aka another park, for the remainder of our stay.
4. Entenmann's chocolate donuts are not an appropriate breakfast.
Or lunch. Or 11:30 p.m. snack. Damn you, Entenmann's. There is a place in hell waiting for you. It became a tradition sometime around Disney 1994 to hitch an Entenmann's trailer full of their chocolate donuts to my parents' minivan just to make extra sure that we had 39 boxes for a 12 day stay. And every morning, I wake up and eat my Fiber One cereal because I'm also working out every other day to keep up my somewhat healthy eating and exercise lifestyle. 20 minutes after my Fiber One, I not only have to go to the bathroom, I have to have a donut. Because it's there. And it's Entenmann's and they fill their snacks with crack.
The last lonely boxes that were cruelly assaulted before check-out.
To be continued...
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Sprinkle Lovers UNITE!
I eat ice cream with sprinkles (for those of you from other parts of the country, like South Jersey, that's jimmies to you. But make no mistake, they are called sprinkles). Ice cream is worthless without sprinkles. And let me tell you, I have credentials in the field of ice cream. Let me share my resume.
My parents owned an ice cream store when I was in middle school. Which means, when I was 11 and 12, I had unlimited access to ice cream and sprinkles. Thank God those were the days when children actually got off their butts and rode their bikes around the neighborhood, played in the street until dark when the streetlights went on, and orchestrated block-wide hide and seek games. Because had I been sitting in a dark room with my DS while listening to my iPod and texting my friend, I would have been considerably larger as a child.
Fast forward to turning 16. I started working at my brother-in-law's ice cream store - he owned a Baskin Robbins at a local mall. I worked there for 4 years. I can't tell you how many times I've said, "Cup or cone?" (and how many times a brilliant customer answered "Yes.") Again, thanks to dancing and cheerleading, my activity countered the large chunks of Reese's Peanut Butter cup I routinely spooned out of said flavor during every shift. That and Cookie Dough chunks.
But let's get back to the point of sprinkles. In my years working in the ice cream profession, I was a sprinkle lover's dream scooper. You asked for sprinkles? By God, you will get your $.25 extra worth (it was 1992, they were a lot less back then). It's your lucky day because I was taught THE RIGHT WAY in which to apply sprinkles. Let me explain.
The MOST important rule to sprinkle application is to ROLL the ice cream in the sprinkle container. The container should always be long enough to fit a cone with scoops on top. Make sure the scoops are pressed down into the cone, then ROLL the ice cream. This way, the ENTIRE surface area of the ice cream is covered. I cannot stress the rolling enough. If someone wants sprinkles, they want sprinkles all over their ice cream. Not 5 pieces strewn wildly about.
This same practice applies to a cup. Take the cup and roll the ice cream in the sprinkles. Bonus with the cup - some extra sprinkles always fall into the cup!
Having a vast knowledge of ice cream and sprinkles, as well as a deep love for the dairy delicacy and it's sugary decor, I am enraged when I order ice cream with sprinkles and my sprinkle request is taken almost as a joke. And in some places, it's a $1.00 extra joke!
Take last night. We went to Ghirardelli's in Downtown Disney. I ordered a cone with sprinkles and Monkey Man ordered a cup with sprinkles. Guess what we got? Someone obviously did not go to the College of Proper Ice Cream Service which I attended. Monkey Man had about 7 sad rainbow sprinkles laying on his mint chocolate chip scoop in a cup. A CUP! That child should have been loaded up! With all kinds of extra sprinkly goodness at the bottom ready to spoon with the soupy drippings at the end! And me? My chocolate cone had about 8 chocolate sprinkles gazing their lonely eyes at me wishing about 1,346 more of their friends had joined them.
This was no time to sit and accept my inferior sprinkle application. I asked for a cup with extra sprinkles. And the waitress got me a "cup" the size of a paper ketchup container at McDonald's. Which fit about 5 more sprinkles.
Too many people obviously take the name literally. Sprinkles are not for sprinkling. They are for coating. Thick and often. I am currently in the process of drafting a petition in order to get all the ice cream shops (at least in America) to adhere to the same practices and standards of sprinkle application. This disservice to our country, to our world, must stop.
My parents owned an ice cream store when I was in middle school. Which means, when I was 11 and 12, I had unlimited access to ice cream and sprinkles. Thank God those were the days when children actually got off their butts and rode their bikes around the neighborhood, played in the street until dark when the streetlights went on, and orchestrated block-wide hide and seek games. Because had I been sitting in a dark room with my DS while listening to my iPod and texting my friend, I would have been considerably larger as a child.
Fast forward to turning 16. I started working at my brother-in-law's ice cream store - he owned a Baskin Robbins at a local mall. I worked there for 4 years. I can't tell you how many times I've said, "Cup or cone?" (and how many times a brilliant customer answered "Yes.") Again, thanks to dancing and cheerleading, my activity countered the large chunks of Reese's Peanut Butter cup I routinely spooned out of said flavor during every shift. That and Cookie Dough chunks.
But let's get back to the point of sprinkles. In my years working in the ice cream profession, I was a sprinkle lover's dream scooper. You asked for sprinkles? By God, you will get your $.25 extra worth (it was 1992, they were a lot less back then). It's your lucky day because I was taught THE RIGHT WAY in which to apply sprinkles. Let me explain.
The MOST important rule to sprinkle application is to ROLL the ice cream in the sprinkle container. The container should always be long enough to fit a cone with scoops on top. Make sure the scoops are pressed down into the cone, then ROLL the ice cream. This way, the ENTIRE surface area of the ice cream is covered. I cannot stress the rolling enough. If someone wants sprinkles, they want sprinkles all over their ice cream. Not 5 pieces strewn wildly about.
This same practice applies to a cup. Take the cup and roll the ice cream in the sprinkles. Bonus with the cup - some extra sprinkles always fall into the cup!
Having a vast knowledge of ice cream and sprinkles, as well as a deep love for the dairy delicacy and it's sugary decor, I am enraged when I order ice cream with sprinkles and my sprinkle request is taken almost as a joke. And in some places, it's a $1.00 extra joke!
Take last night. We went to Ghirardelli's in Downtown Disney. I ordered a cone with sprinkles and Monkey Man ordered a cup with sprinkles. Guess what we got? Someone obviously did not go to the College of Proper Ice Cream Service which I attended. Monkey Man had about 7 sad rainbow sprinkles laying on his mint chocolate chip scoop in a cup. A CUP! That child should have been loaded up! With all kinds of extra sprinkly goodness at the bottom ready to spoon with the soupy drippings at the end! And me? My chocolate cone had about 8 chocolate sprinkles gazing their lonely eyes at me wishing about 1,346 more of their friends had joined them.
This was no time to sit and accept my inferior sprinkle application. I asked for a cup with extra sprinkles. And the waitress got me a "cup" the size of a paper ketchup container at McDonald's. Which fit about 5 more sprinkles.
Too many people obviously take the name literally. Sprinkles are not for sprinkling. They are for coating. Thick and often. I am currently in the process of drafting a petition in order to get all the ice cream shops (at least in America) to adhere to the same practices and standards of sprinkle application. This disservice to our country, to our world, must stop.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Send Me to a Dental Institution!
Monkey Man had to get a filling. Okay, make that 2 fillings (fine, I’m lying, it was 4. I know – FOUR! What the hell? What kind of mother am I?) For the record, these cavities are NOT a result of lackluster brushing and poor oral health. We brush morning and night, (sometimes during the day), we floss, we swish with water after treats if we can't brush, we drink milk and water with an occasional juice. I brush his teeth with such passion, such gusto for clean teeth, that he probably has no enamel left. I blame it all on his father. Monkey Man has been given a bad hand in the tooth genetics game thanks to his dear old dad. At least he has my good looks and charming personality.
When the dentist showed me the x-rays and gave me the shocking news, I almost cried. Part of me was afraid that Child Protective Services was lurking around the large, colorful mural of The Plaque-inator ready to cuff me for teeth negligence – because, really, 4 cavities? How do I explain this? But mostly I almost cried because Monkey Man will now have to pay for his own college education. You see, in order to simplify my life, I have the dentist’s bank account linked to Monkey Man’s college savings account. It’s just easier to transfer the funds directly to Dr. Ben. He’s a nice guy, and hey, if I can contribute to his kids’ college fund, it’s the least I can do.
With the miracle of dental science, comes happy gas for the preschoolers. Because Monkey Man is not silly enough, let’s jack him up on some nitrous oxide and see how this rides out. Well, let me tell you, he had me nearly peeing in my pants in the corner of the room.
Mommy: “Hey, buddy, how you doing?”
Monkey Man: “Hi, Mommy!” he responded giggling. Then he turned his head towards Dr. Ben and said, “You’re the bestest dentist in the whole wide world. I want to stay here for 356 days!”
Dr. Ben looked at me and smiled. I told Dr. Ben that Monkey Man was probably on to something – a little child labor in exchange for dental work. Dr. Ben and I are working out the details.
When the dentist showed me the x-rays and gave me the shocking news, I almost cried. Part of me was afraid that Child Protective Services was lurking around the large, colorful mural of The Plaque-inator ready to cuff me for teeth negligence – because, really, 4 cavities? How do I explain this? But mostly I almost cried because Monkey Man will now have to pay for his own college education. You see, in order to simplify my life, I have the dentist’s bank account linked to Monkey Man’s college savings account. It’s just easier to transfer the funds directly to Dr. Ben. He’s a nice guy, and hey, if I can contribute to his kids’ college fund, it’s the least I can do.
With the miracle of dental science, comes happy gas for the preschoolers. Because Monkey Man is not silly enough, let’s jack him up on some nitrous oxide and see how this rides out. Well, let me tell you, he had me nearly peeing in my pants in the corner of the room.
Mommy: “Hey, buddy, how you doing?”
Monkey Man: “Hi, Mommy!” he responded giggling. Then he turned his head towards Dr. Ben and said, “You’re the bestest dentist in the whole wide world. I want to stay here for 356 days!”
Dr. Ben looked at me and smiled. I told Dr. Ben that Monkey Man was probably on to something – a little child labor in exchange for dental work. Dr. Ben and I are working out the details.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Question #1,397
"Mommy, when I wasn't born yet, like when I wasn't even in your belly, was I floating in outer space? Like Super Baby?"
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
New Look, Same Old Blog!
It just looks different, but it's still me! Here we have a clean, uncluttered look - just the way I like my house. I'd love if the inside of my head could be this neat and organized, too, but with the welcoming of a child comes the welcoming of chaos, almost complete disorganization, and a teetering on the edge of insanity. And that's me with one child. Oh, which brings me to a topic that will be explored, dissected and ranted about in the very near future. The "only" child (I very much dislike this phrase, not going to say the H word, we teach Monkey Man not to use that word. Screw it. I HATE that phrase).
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)