"I know the D word."

L, "I know the D word, but don't worry. I won't say it."
Me, "Ok, that sounds like a good plan."
L, "But I know it. I just won't say it. It's a very bad word."
Me, "Ok."
L, "I won't ever say it, the D word."
Me, "Do you want to say it? Do you want to tell me what it is?"
L, "No no I won't say it, it's the worst word, the D word."
Me, "How do you know the D word?"
L, "Brian told me. At school, the very bad D word."
Me, "Ok. Well, I feel like you want to tell me this word. Say it, just this once to tell me what it is."
L, "Ok, if you want me to. But it's a very bad word. The D word."
Me, "No, I get it. Say it once, if you want, whisper into my ear - but never say it again. Deal?"
L, "Ok. The very bad, the worst D word? It's dang."

Meanwhile? I say dang on the regular.

Mom of the Year - 2013.

The day I ruined my kid's love for rollercoasters

In preparation for Disney World, we watched a slew of documentaries. They showed us what to expect, the parks, the rides - it's on Netflix. It was perfect. Since she was tall enough to go on most rides we got to hear all about them, and this kid loves details. She decided which rides she would want to go on and others she would skip out on. Space Mountain was one she wanted to go on.

July 2012: when her spirits were free & full of love.

Background: when she was 3 we went to Disney. She rode the Barnstormer kid coaster and loved it. Since then at every carnival or fair she rides all the rides. Fast and nauseating - she's into it.

Back to Space Mountain: we got a Fastpass, and when it was time to go - the ball&chain let me go on with her. He'd been before, but I haven't. And when it came to rides JJ couldn't go on we took turns. As we walked through the endless twists and turns of what should be the line it got darker and darker. That's her kryptonite. Darkness. Outside & fast? She's in. Dark? She isn't a fan. I started to get nervous, but she saw the video clip about it? And she was still into it? I tried to play it cool. Then we saw the loading dock.

It's here I realized that I wouldn't be able to sit next to her. It's here I remembered a story a friend told me, about bringing her nephew on this very ride and how she and his mom spent the entire ride trying to reach him across the car. How they had to stretch out to reach him as he screamed, "I am not having fun. This is the worst idea ever!!!!!!" She still seemed into it, so I went with it.

Notice how far above t
he seat back her head was.

I put her in front of me - so I could reach her easily. If anything, I could keep my hands on her shoulders at least she'll know I'm there.

We sit down. She's still excited, though slightly nervous. But there is no out now - we are going.

The first few minutes, we are talking to one another.

Her, "I don't really like this. It's dark."
Me, "It's cool, kid - just enjoy it! It'll be over soon."
Her, "When. It's really dark."
Me, "Love you kid - isn't this fun!!! WEEEEEE!"
Her, "No."
Me, "Are you having fun??? Do you love it?" (I knew the answer to that - was trying my hand at reverse psychology.)
Her, {silence}
Me, "Babe, I'm right here. Don't be scared!"
Her, {silence}
Me, "Hello. L. You there?"

The answer was yes & no. Perhaps in body she was there, but her spirit? Was far far away.

By the time we got off the three minute ride, she shut down and scooted so far down so far that the T bar

The scoot down begins.
Notice her face? Dead inside.
Not seen: the worst picture possibly ever taken of me -
trying to get to her & failing.

that should be in her lap was up to her shoulders. She went to a far away place. She wasn't crying. She wasn't upset. She was shut down. 

It took a few minutes for her to come back, knowing that she was now safe - not in a darkness spiral. She came back to us, but was forever changed.

That's how my once roller coaster loving child lost her love for roller coasters. I jacked her up so hard, she wouldn't even go on the kid coaster she loved so dearly 2 years previously. In related news, I'm still awaiting my "Mom of the Year" award, surely this puts me in a strong lead {sarcastic font}.

Surviving the Mayhem & Enjoying the Magic

We've been gone on a magical adventure to the Disney World. It's a trip, I remember more fondly than I think the reality was - and that's what Disney is all about: a magical facade of wonderment. I am not hating on it, but it's a lot of work. Here's how we made the trip more magic, less mayhem.

1. Plan, but don't over plan. This time around I was prepared, far more than I have been in the past. Holy Pinterest, it's helpful. The most important thing, I think that helped this trip? We decided we wouldn't freak out on seeing or doing everything.  We were going to miss stuff - and that was ok. Having a collective okay on that decreased the stress, 100%.  We know we'll be back (in a few years, the FDA approved wait time), so there was no reason to make sure we saw everything. We'll see it all, at some point. Or maybe we won't - it's still magical.
   
   We made reservations for meals, where we could. The thing about Disney is you can make reservations 180 days in advance, which in my last minute procrastinator head is Amanda Bynes level of crazy. I conformed and it was absolutely worth it. 100%. Makes sense. I'm a believer. We made no more than one reservation a day, to allow for the whole "take us where the day takes us" mentality, but provided the ability to actually sit down & eat.
   
   Personal favorites:
   Tutto Italia Dinner
   In Epcot: great food, pitchers of beer. What more can you ask for?
   
   Akershus Royal Banquet Hall
   In Epcot: Good food, Princesses who come table to table chat, are adorable and it's not crazy town - at all. Like Chef Mickey which I find cra cra. And to quote my husband, "They should serve antacid pills with your breakfast. This is insane."
   
   
2. Magic can be made, not bought.  My kid likes details, she's into them. I don't know where she gets it {sarcastic font}.  To quell the constant questions I created a personalized itinerary for the girls. Each day, it was laid out where we would go, there were words easy enough for her to sound out and images to match. I won't lie, I took it slightly too far - as I do.  It was a perfect way to make sure the kid knew what was up and we will be able to look back on as a memory. After a week in the magically land of Disney, it all starts to blur together.
   

   

   *Names changed to protect the innocent - and those who will
   be embarrassed by Mom's crazy when they are older.

   
   The itinerary is created through Word, I downloaded a few free fonts to jazz it up and swiped images off the Internet which I'm fairly sure isn't Kosher but to be fair, I'm not 100 %. My best discovery was searching for images with a "transparent" background. This allowed for an overlay where I didn't need to baulk the system. Another option is clicking on the image and choosing the option to place the image in the background for easy layering. This might not make any sense, but if you are into it - it will.  There were surprises layered through out the week - laid out created fun anticipation.
   
   
3. Magic that is bought, can be done on a budget. In the weeks leading up to the trip, I would scour Dollar Stores or sale racks for treats & surprises. Glow sticks, Princess or Disney themed jewelery, arts & crafts and Princess costumes.  Did you know that some Princess dresses are 80 bucks? Like what the hell, it's dress up - not prom. Every morning the girls would wake to a few small trinkets left by Tinker Bell & her fairy friends. I used some of the fonts I already downloaded and wrote a quick note. Each note was encouraging, thanking them for their good behavior (self-fulfilling prophecy hopes). Each note came with a small trinket that I probably would have bought anyway (sandals, Mickey band aids) or help to defray the whole "TOYS TOYS TOYS I NEED A TOY!" madness (jewelry, princess costume, arts & crafts). I sprinkled each delivery with a little glitter and magic ensued. Though, at a certain point the kid could be heard saying, "Why does Tinker Bell keep bringing me all this stuff? I don't need all of this!" Oh my practical girl, how do I tell her the Dollar Store knows no bounds & mommy wanted to make sure we had enough?
   
   
4. Characters, man. Beyond waiting on lines for character autograph books (which for the right wait time - is totally worth it). See exhibit A. There are other opportunities that can't be missed, see exhibit B. It is taken in the midst of a dance party.

   

   Exhibit A

   Characters are actually everywhere. First, there are parades. Pro tip: you don't actually have to set up an hour earlier. We would get there moments before any parade, get a great seat and enjoy with minimal crazy town.This doesn't mean a crazy woman won't bum rush your child to wave to the princesses... but that could happen after waiting an hour in the same seat in anticipation. Second, there are dance parties. They are our favorite. I didn't see them - at all - last time around. But this time? In most of the parks we stumbled across dance parties. DJ, kid friendly music, an MC that was all "let's do the electric slide" and then characters would come out to dance with the kids. Honestly? It was my favorite part - for real. There could be these really, truly, magical moments of love with the characters without the rush of an autograph

   

   Exhibit B

   line.
   
   
5. If you got 'em, dress up like 'em. Encourage dress up, if the kids are into it. I mean, first - it's hilarious, adorable & magic. But the cast members of Disney? Freaking, slow clap to a standing O. They are amazing. Of course all the staff at Disney are pretty much magical, but throw a princess dress on your kid? They are curtsying, calling the kids princess. Asking if they've seen Aurora, Arial... telling story of Tinker Bell flying past them. Amaze. Pro tip: Kohl's sells Princess costumes, and for the right deal you can get them under 20, which is lovely. That said, what UP Disney? How ya gonna stop (easy to access) sizing at 6? Mama's got a tall glass of water - and throwing me a 7 or 8 would have done us wonders. We also did low key, inexpensive dress up options that wasn't the princess garb 100%.
   
   Example: Princess t-shirts with coordinating skirts or color themed outfits. Like yellow, blue & red = Snow White or blue = Merida or green = Arial. We made it work. We also did different hair themes. Best day ever, for the kid, was revitalizing some Rapunzel throw backs. We did her hair in braids and included some flowers. I am hair challenged, but easy enough: 3 braids, made into 1 braid. I stuck in some fake flowers and she got more compliments that day, than any. Even with her Bippity Boppity Boutique day (AKA Honey Boo Boo school of rejects). And she beamed. And I wilted.  Their happiness, made this "vacation." Dare I say made us so tired had us yearning for the end, it was still pure magic.
   
   
   
   
   
   These kids, man. The magic moments, made the mayhem worth it. 100%.  If you listen to nothing else, don't stress- too hard. Enjoy it.
   

Anger + sadness

I'm pissed. And I'm sad. But mostly, I'm pissed. Nope, changed my mind again, more sadness. I'm sad for the people, the children, the families that have been touched by the most recent tragedies in the news, the avoidable news. I mention the difference, because there was a lot of gd loss this week, every week. I'm talking about the Marathon Bombing. It's sad. And sad isn't even the word. And the fact that that line & feeling is familiar to me. Pisses me off. And that isn't even the word.

As a person or American or mother or woman or friend or sister - pick a word, any word - as news broke I became numb. Almost like I didn't know if it was actually happening. Some of my closest friends live in Boston. Many good friends were yards away from the blast. I had friends who were running the marathon or watching their loved ones run and then others who ended up quite literally running for their lives. My brother works in Boston and surrounding areas. I lived a few blocks away from the blasts what seems like the other day (reality: 7 or 8 years ago). As I watched the video and photos unfold I knew these areas well. Video looped on streets and store fronts I walked by often. In the wee beginnings of our relationship when he was in San Fransisco and I was Boston I would talk to him, for hours. Since I pace when I'm on the phone I decided to walk instead of wear out the carpet. I walked that street weekly, if not daily.

Later in the week, the locations of the shoot outs, explosions being thrown out of cars in a chase, manhunts and the such - all local. I drove those streets, I know those towns. When the chaos moved to Watertown, most of it took place a few blocks from a friend's home with two small children like me. It was their reality.

The families or people who were directly effected: killed, hospitalized, surgeries, psychologically shaken or broken. Unimaginable. I can't process it. More than it all happening in a neighborhood like yours or where you might have lived lifetimes ago. More than having friends that weren't physically hurt but you know someone who made slightly different choices that day that changed their life. More than all of the six degrees of fucked up Bacon circumstances - these people whose lives are changed, forever, unimaginable. There are truly no words. What can you say?

I was numb, in disbelief. Worried. I was sad. And then, then I got pissed.

This is my reality now. Horrifying news, in my 'backyard.' I see posts on twitter or Facebook like "imagine if this happened all the time" or "this is what it's like to live in X Y or Z." And all I want to do? Scream, FUCK THAT. I don't live in X Y or Z. I do not want to imagine what it would be like for this to be normal. I shouldn't have to, no one should. But more than that? My babies shouldn't have to. But they do. Scratch that, they don't have to imagine what it would be like where shit like this is normal - because in their small and short life times: the middle of September will always be a dark time, shootings at colleges, movie theaters, fucking elementary schools - it's possible. And now bombings - it's all in the realm of their reality. And so much more, and not in a good way "but wait - there's more!" - pedophiles, kidnapping, parents killing children, children killing children, bad people doing bad things. Oh "but wait - there's more" - all the things that cannot be controlled - sickness, disease, accidents, natural disasters. Fuck.

(It's around this time, I needed to take a break. I was feeling like all I wanted to do was say fuck and it was feeling like too much. So I backed away from this post and I saw this. And that's when I realized there was entirely not enough fucks articulated. Because this sums it up: Fuck this week written by Lindy West on Jezebel.)

Taken about a week ago.
When she was that much safer.

So where was I? Oh right. Horrified & numb with sadness.

I'm scared for all of us, literally and figuratively. I'm angry. I'm angry my baby (even if she is 5 years old) tells me in the wrap up of her day she hides in her cubby in her classroom when they have "lock down practice."  Then I have to be asked "Mommy, are you crying???" What the hell happened to fire drills? Am I grateful schools are getting prepared and smart about the threat that is out there? Absolutely. Am I pissed that the threat is there? More than absolutely.

Do I run my own drills with her? Yes. 100%. How to scream "this isn't my Mommy/Daddy help me!!!" if someone grabs her. To look for helpers - other mommies or daddies with lots of kids or the police or firefighters. The helpers, that there are good people in this world - but hell if I'm not going to give her some strategies for the sick bastards out there. To run and scream and don't be afraid. Because that's our God damn reality. That's hers. And I'm so fucking angry about. I'm so fucking sad.

I want to protect her from the unimaginable. The heavy in my heart, it is actually imaginable possibilities, she may witness or experience. Obviously. More than that? I want to protect her from the knowledge of the possibility of the horrific (un)imaginable events.  She's 5, but what about the baby baby (1 years old)? What in the hell will be her reality? 

On Friday, the kid wanted to wear her Red Sox cap. Boston pride. She wanted to wear it because it's her favorite hat. She loves Boston, she loves that hat. She was born there - visits fairly regularly. See: family & friends in the area. It's her first home. Frankly? She just loves the damn hat. She loves telling people about Boston. We've moved around a lot, it's her schtick. She saw me wearing mine. I don't know why she wanted to wear it. But on Friday, I talked her (gently) out of wearing the hat. Not because I don't love her pride in (one of) her hometowns, but I didn't want someone to think that she knew. She's in kindergarten, why would someone talk to her about the bombing, just because of her hat? I don't know, but I don't want to find out. I want her to be naive to her reality for as long as possible.

She'll experience loss in her life. Her great-grandmothers, her grandparents - God willing - eventually her parents. Possibly friends & other family members. In the order it is naturally intended. For just a little while longer, I need her to not know the (un)imaginable. For her not to be as angry and sad as I am - just for a little while longer.

A magical Easter

Holy delay, Batman... err Bunnyman, as it were. 

Here's what I know about Easter:

• I know that it's not really about bunnies, eggs or scavenger hunts.
• We usually go to church, and a better part of me feels like we need to go regularly verses holidays.
• We most certainly didn't go this year. To keep the beast JJ still for 10 minutes, let alone an hour would take a miraculous event, indeed.



I believe this gets filed under: WTF.

• All of that said, the kids? Big fan of the bunnies, the eggs and the hunts.

Time out: what is UP with the bunny thing. I get chocolate bunnies (indirectly/kinda). But what's up with packaging a real bunny up in a cage... to then eat?

Time in: onto the magic.

This year, we decorated eggs without the baby, for the most part. We left her one egg and it was pure joy for her. Pure. Magic. This year, we were reminded that you can have the simplest of activities and win. 100%.

Note to self:

1. Keep it simple. While I appreciate all the wonderful, natural and/or complicated possibilities of decorating a damn egg - freaking Pinterest - they have egg decorating packages on the cheap for a reason. $2.50 a box? Don't mind if I do. I will say, I read somewhere (freaking, Pinterest) that if you add more tabs you get brighter colors. So I went for more than one box. And it worked. It didn't matter though, all the eggs turned a green or blue - because eventually every egg was dropped in a blue or a green. The kid couldn't leave well enough alone. No egg was ever truly "done." It was like a Pringle... once she started popping she just couldn't stop.
2. A clean work area is a happy mom. Or whatever the saying is. Boxes. Boxes man. In the last few weeks I've used boxes for creative mornings, getting my car out of mud - and now a table top to decorate the eggs. There is going to be spilling. And if you consider the baby? There is going to be splashing. The box down on the table top? Just totally kept the stress level in check. And clean up? WAY easy.
3. Hoarding helps. I have longed hinted at my label in this house as a hoarder. But I tell you, it has it's benefits (if you can remain semi-organized). I mean, the boxes alone have been invaluable. Beyond that I save the same grass where I can, Easter baskets, plastic eggs - all the makings of what we need for our festivities without waste or unnecessary cost.
4. Free is good. Some years the Easter Bunny and Santa seem to be at odds, in some kind of competition. I He doesn't like to over do it with the candy, so a few little treats or prizes typically turns into an unwieldy amount of goodies from the Easter Bunny. This year, we I he didn't go too crazy. With an upcoming trip to Disney, it was reasonable & just things the kids needed with one extra or two little extras. Things I would get anyway and some real necessities. Yea, the Easter Bunny got straight necessity this year and gave socks & underwear. The kids made a bunny out of a toilet paper roll for cuteness-sake with craft supplies already in the house.
   
   The best parts of the day,  were totally free.

• A tradition we have is a scavenger hunt, just like the ball & chain had as a child. Rather than written clues, as he remembers, we the Easter Bunny hides plastic eggs (see hoarding benefits). In each egg there is a clue to the next spot. At the end of the scavenger hunt the kids find their Easter basket. The clues are a picture of where the next egg is. This year, since the kid is starting to catch on faster we the Easter Bunny got a little more abstract with the photo hints.  For example, instead of including a picture of the small ottoman in the living room, there was a picture of the pattern of the ottoman. It's a great, simple, fun, and practically free bit of fun. Big hit. Each year, after she's done the kid usually wants to "do it again."

• This year, I think a new tradition was born. In the move we cleared out a lot of stuffed animals. The thought was to donate a lot, but it's never actually gotten out of the house. Not a win, in intent. That said, it worked in our favor in the column of magic. Every bunny that was previously tagged for donation and each bunny that was in their room was unearthed. In the morning, as the kids (well really just L cause JJ didn't really get on board) ran through the house and upon walking in the play room the scene was intense. Well, to an adult - totally creepy. But magical to the babes and that's what mattered. JJ even participated in their tea party. I mean. Come.On.

One day, they won't believe. And when that day comes, I'll be sad. Bright side? I'll be excited that there will not be hours of set up for 20 minutes of action. The math doesn't add up.  Scavenger hunts take time. Staging takes time. Hiding eggs? The ones that go bad, complicated in the morning. Doing it all quietly as to not stir suspicion? Even more time. I hope though, when it's all over, they remember these little snapshots of magic. Creepy bunnies & all.