Cold Spaghetti

Is it normal for a 6-year old boy to just be, I don’t know… off?  For like, weeks?

Will, the boy who has never in recorded history sat with both bum cheeks touching the same chair at the same time, is worn out.  At least, we think.  This conversation about Will’s health has been going on since late May.  Granted, he WAS sick, for sure, about two weeks ago.  Lost his voice.  Had a fever.  Stayed home for two very inconvenient days, where he was oddly sweet and slept a lot.  He didn’t even whine, which made me wonder whether last rites were necessary.  No whining?  Let’s be clear: I didn’t take him to the doctor because he had a fever and mysteriously lost his voice.  No whining and I’m searching for a pulse.

So he’s been hot, it seems, quite a lot.  And tired.  But I figure it’s summer and he is probably dehydrated all the time.  And he’s at Summer Camp at the JCC, which involves swimming, sports, field trips, and daily 10K fun runs where they carry 40 pound backpacks.  This is our best guess, because when we pick him up, he is so tired he sometimes falls asleep during the 1/2 mile back home.  So, then, maybe it’s normal for him to seem tired and be warm?

But wait.  Last Sunday, Will slept until after 8am.  AND, took a 3-hour nap.  No exaggeration.

I know, I’m looking up and waiting for the sky to start falling, too.

Now I’ve got you worried.

I’ve taken him the doctor twice.  Once for the virus where he lost his voice (which almost happened again last weekend, actually) and then again because he had ear pain (swimmer’s ear).  Today, he has had fluid pouring out of his head all day.  Like when you use a neti pot, except it’s out of his ear.  All day.  Does it hurt?  No.  But then again, this is the kid whose eardrum exploded in a dramatic wash of colors and textures and he was all, “eh.”

So is this normal summertime for grade school kids?  What is up with my kid?

I have a hard time with predictability.  It’s just too boring, too rigid.  I even need to switch sides of the bed every once in awhile just to keep fresh perspective during sleep.

The exception to the rule seems to be visits to Disney World, whose wonders we can’t quite exhaust.

We were there in late May/early June… a trip timed at school’s (almost) end and with a few days of summer camp shaved from the front.  The fact that it was during one of the 3 “Star Wars” weekends hosted yearly at Hollywood Studios was also a key part of our last-minute-travel decision-making.

The trip was wonderful.  We met up with several groups of friends — from Virginia, New Orleans, Miami, and Orlando.  I don’t think we were there for even a day where we didn’t meet up with friends.  We stayed on the monorail for the first time (in the Polynesian) and were upgraded to concierge level, all of which was amazing.  We ate in Cinderella’s Castle (another first) with one of Kate’s best friends from school (and her big brother, a friend of Will’s).

And, Kate got her hair cut and sprayed with pixie dust at the Barber Shop on Main Street:

In the picture above, Kate is laughing at the parade going by the window — bright floats with characters singing and dancing.  Not bad for distraction during a haircut!

If they aren’t busy, they folks in the shop will spray your hair with pixie dust for free.  Otherwise, a hair cut with all the special sprinkles is $15.  While we were there, the Barbershop Quartet singers came in and performed.  Seeing our anniversary pins, they chose a special romantic tune just for us — complete with the crowd applauding for us to kiss at the end.

It was just that kind of magic trip.

Here’s Cinderella’s Banquet Hall in the Castle, in silhouette.  Princesses are announced and greet guests table-to-table.

When we checked into the Polynesian, the concierge staff brought us handmade leis made of live, fragrant flowers, with congratulations on our 10 year anniversary.  Kate loved the real flower necklaces.

Here’s Paul on the teacups!  (The kids are great spinners.)

Each evening, we could watch the light parade on the water followed by the fireworks over Cinderella’s castle from the pool and beach of the Polynesian.  Or, we could go up to the Concierge building lodge (where there were desserts and adult beverages) and watch them from the air-conditioned, two story room with wall-to-ceiling windows looking out to the castle.  They even piped in the music from The Magic Kingdom during the fireworks.

Each night, as people gathered on the beach to watch fireworks, the ducks and ducklings took over the pool…

The Star Wars events were fun.  Both kids were thrilled at seeing the characters.  Including storm troopers who interacted with the crowd at the entrance gates.

Different celebrities are on hand throughout the day for photos and signatures (we didn’t do much of this) and there are interviews, quiz shows, and other special events for guests.  While these may be things are kids will want to do when they are older, they were thrilled to stick with the daily Star Wars parade.

(I think my favorite part of the parade were the Sand People with Babies.)

Will was into this photo-op.

We did stand in line for a few signatures.  Jango Fett was there and took a break (yikes) when Ashoka (at least, I’m told this is her name… I don’t get the Clone Wars stuff) popped in.

Ask Kate about the force and she’ll do this for you.

Thankfully, someone who looks a bit like Jango, but in different color, came back.  That was enough for Will.  He’s got a thing for these helmet-wearing guys.

There were non-Star Wars moments, too.  (The ones below are from the Nemo ride at EPCOT.)  Will friends Bryan and Carolyn there, we had more opportunity to switch off and do more “intense” experiences — Mission: Space (simulates the g-forces of rocketing off the earth) and Test Track, which Will tried for the first time and loved.

A few days into our trip, the “Summer” Nighttime program started.  This year’s summer program includes the return of the Main Street Electric Parade, the original light parade that I remember from my own childhood.  I was THRILLED to share it with the kids.

Will passed out a few minutes before it started, of course.  We told him that it is a parade filled with Star Wars characters and everyone that is awake is given real laser lightsabers.

I got a little artsy while waiting for the parade.

Here are Paul and Kate, watching Tchoupi et DouDou as we wait for the start of the parade.

The previous parade, part of the “Wishes Nighttime Spectacular,” is a beautiful parade of white lights.  It is a nice parade, with a dreamy quality that left you with oohs and aahs.  But it is no where near the fun of the original Main Street Electric Parade!

Here’s Prince Charming with one of the Stepsisters, who is trying to put on the glass slipper.

See Peter Pan and Hook?

Here they are — sword fighting away…

Pete and his dragon, Elliot, were a favorite part of the original.  Elliot has his bumbling voice, disappears, and blows smoke.  (What?  You haven’t seen Pete’s Dragon?  With Helen Reddy, and her Candle on the Water torch song?)

We figure that we don’t have much time before the kids are old enough to appreciate Europe.  Or trekking in the Himalayas.  Or rafting the Grand Canyon.  Or finding the perfect pebble on Skye.  So right now, while they are this wonderful age, we are really enjoying the Disney magic with them.  Even if it is predictable!

… to a Dad whose love of naps is inspiring.   Happy Father’s Day, Pancho!

I knew he wasn’t kidding when his voice cracked and his eyes looked glassy.  “No, actually, I have an anniversary present for you.”

Complete silence.

I looked directly in his eye without a hint of joking.  “Really?  You did.  You’re not kidding.”

“It’s not wrapped yet.  So, how about I give it to you now, so I don’t have to wrap it.”

Big sigh.  That sounds more like it.

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Wanna see it?

WOW.  With special thanks to Derby Pottery and Tile for working with Paul on this one-of-a-kind, signature piece!  It is BEAUTIFUL.

(Note the inscription around the water meter cover?)

…And you Best of the Best Just Posts folks?  You’ve got Derby Pottery love coming your way… packages went out yesterday!  A preview…

Happy 10th Anniversary to my motorcycle-riding, electronic-fixing, home-building, Amazon-jungle-rope-swinging, kite-flying, kid-lovin’, multi-talented best friend.  Thank you for your flexibility, your sense of adventure, for making me laugh, for believing in me and working with me to create our wonderful life together.

BP.  Proper Noun. Big Oil company who sought out Gulf Coast fisherman and families reliant on the biodiversity and abundance of the Gulf Coast and wetland areas, offering to pay them sums of $5,000 for waving the right to sue the company shortly after an offshore rig exploded and days before it was confirmed by media that oil was actually pouring out of the well and into the sea.

Celebration of Service.  Proper Noun, in certain circles.  Big event for local nonprofit.  May occupy mind of program director for months and completely consume life for weeks.

Dispersants.  Noun.  Chemicals used to break up oil in the sea.  Use stems from catastrophic events, which occur when big business decides personal profit is more important than public safety.  Exact chemical compositions are considered “trade secrets” to minimize the ability of scientists (and others) to assess the impact on health and the environment.

DIBELS test.  Noun; that thing where capitals imply words that describe the test.  A test done in English that requires each student to spend 15 minutes alone with the teacher, during which time parents are asked to sub.  Test has significance somewhere and is likely related to some requirement.  Jazz Fest (see entry, below) may impair parents’ ability to process significance of testing.  Or else, the experience of subbing for a class of 1st graders may destroy the brain cells holding that particular set of information.

Jazz Fest.  Proper Noun.  AKA: Fess.  Like most things about New Orleans, highly misunderstood.  Seven days over two weeks, hundreds of musicians, artists, and food vendors.  This is not your Northern California “Jazz Festival” where erudite folk sit around and sip wine from fancy glasses while listening to the gentle smoothness of elevator music.  It’s more like Woodstock sobered up just enough to put on pants and then hooked up with a Louisiana girl who knows how to cook.

Pink tea. Noun.  AKA: Crystal Light.  Made for child’s birthday play-date/tea party.  Easy to clean up when spilled on crinoline and other costume material.  Served with petit fours and fruit salad.

Race Day.  Proper Noun, according to school emails. Day(s) when students are hauled out to open space to run long distances which increase with age.  All kids finish, all kids win, emphasis on participation, exercise, and drinking lots of water afterward.  Usually happens right in the middle of Jazz Fest, see entry above.

It’s the square root of 1600.

And 00101000 in binary.

If you call Romania, you have to dial it.

In hexadecimal, it’s 28.

The Romans?  They would have called it XL.

I could easily give 40 reasons, too… 1 for each year.  40 reasons why we’re so happy to celebrate your day, so happy you’re here, so happy you’re the Daddy, the husband, the friend, and the all-round beefcake* home improvement legend that you are.

Happy 40th, Pancho!

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* Best birthday greeting to Paul today, from our friend K: “Happy 40th — your wife still calls you ‘beefcake’ on a regular basis, so you’re all good.”

When petting dinosaurs at the zoo…

… be forewarned.  They may spit.

Even on Daddy.  ewww.

Also?  Nothing phases Kate.

Taken seconds before the tower is destroyed when they try to see who can sit on the others head and pass gas first.

“But it’s not FAIR!” Will says as he throws around his school pants.  “I don’t WANT TO TAKE OFF MY SHOES!!”

He’s gotten dressed in green corduroys instead of his blue school pants, again.  I’m not concerned that he has a turtleneck under his school shirt on a day that will reach the low-70s, but I do need him to wear his navy school pants.  I’m cool on bending the rules (e.g.: the royal blue pants with baggy pockets from yesterday) but responsibility holds me from breaking them completely.  Hence the angry outburst from my child.  “Good morning, son!” I think to myself, “like most mornings, today I’m greeting you with demands that make you miserable!”

Kate, on the other hand, is pleasant as can be, setting up intricate bedding for assorted dolls and stuffed things.  Large items have bedding made up from blankets she’s unpacked from Will’s room, which makes me sigh as I consider having to fold and put back each one.  Then I notice that the small items have bedding made up of Kleenex.  Suddenly re-folding blankets seems like a joyous task.  Fifteen minutes of badgering, directing, undressing, re-dressing, cajoling, and general focused power are what it takes to get the child into actual clothing.  It’s a delicate balance between listening, encouraging, directing, offering choices, and provoking total meltdown.  At least this child still needs enough help in the morning that I can play to that balancing-act.  The boy is pretty much in misery full-time.

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I figure that morning chaos isn’t unique (right?)  But here is where my morning both brightens and narrows into envy:

While I’m wetting my son’s hair and trying to comb it while he eats breakfast (by the way, water is akin to hot oil — the child is screaming under the sizzle of the luke-warm water on the brush), while Kate is being asked for the 18th time to PLEASE put on her shoes, and while I watch as the cat jumps up on the table to lick out of a cereal bowl that wasn’t put in the sink…. Paul waltzes in the door.

Yes. Waltz.

He glides in, shiny and perfect, all rested and perky, having enjoyed 2 blissful hours of work in the coffee shop.  He’s had plenty of perfectly prepared caffeine and gotten through enough work to feel a bit accomplished before the rest of our time zone has put on pants.  And now he’s home to kiss his darling family and send them off to school.

Is it okay that I both love him and …. hate him for this?  Damn perky perfect husband, forcing himself out of bed extra early to put in hours to spend more time with us and help me more in the afternoon!!

And just like that, my warm underbelly is exposed and all my weaknesses laid out for display: I suck at morning routine.

I’m looking for the reality check here.

SHOULD I be just as perfect and have the kids ready and waiting for his return?  Or is this just too Stepford?

Is it more reasonable that my husband come home to the gum-in-my-hair wife wielding two screaming, half-dressed children and a kitchen full of dirty dishes?

Could my morning madness just be karmic balance?  Or am I not fulfilling what should be a sort of equally-impressive display of responsibility to my mate?

Help me out, folks.  How do you do it?