If I had posted this in the “Things I Have Learned” category I would tell you first and foremost that it is not advisable to travel to New York City in what is likely to be the still freezing month of March.  If you must though, I have to warn against taking four young children with you.  If you must though, have plenty of cash on hand so that you can remain on the good side of the doormen at the ridiculously expensive Times Square Doubletree Hotel.  Please take my advice on these things.  I offer it to you in hopes that your family is never stranded on the corner of 47th and Broadway in Manhattan looking like this

I really shouldn’t complain.  We did, after all, make it home without having left any of our precious children belongings on the streets of New York.  That is, of course, unless you count Torri’s cell phone and Kennedy’s purse with her prepaid spending card tucked neatly inside.

The streets of New York were tumultuous enough, but that chore paled in comparison to our jaunts through the airports we traveled through.  Maneuvering through the tight spaces and inpatient crowds with that much stuff was, ahem, interesting to say the least.  That Washington DC/NYC trip alone taught Jeff and I the importance of carrying at least some cash at all times.  Not just for the doormen, but also for those handy luggage cart things they have at the airport.  It’s truly a miracle that we didn’t both end up with broken backs after lugging all that stuff through not one, but two airports, three east coast cities, and multiple hotel rooms.

There is an easier way though.  One that we plan on putting to practice during our upcoming trip to Walt Disney World.

First of all, we’ve invested in larger suitcases.  All with wheels.  Plus it will be much (much much much) warmer in Florida in September than it was in New York in March so we’ll need far fewer scarves and fur coats and space heaters.  Okay, we didn’t really travel with space heaters but we gosh darn should have.  Portable ones preferably that I could have tucked nicely into my socks and pockets. 

But I digress.

Possibly the most ingenious thing we’ll be bringing along on this trip though is the CARES for kids aviation safety device.  It will be replacing the awkward 20 pound carseat we use for Jayce every time he flies.  Instead of that hunk’o'heavy plastic we’ll scoop this little diddy up and put it to good use.

If you’ve never seen one, it’s basically a portable car seat for the plane.  It may be hard to tell in this picture but there is no seat involved, only straps.  It’s the only FAA approved device of its kind and I, for one, think it’s simply brilliant.  It takes about a minute to install on the plane and it works in combination with the lap belt to provide a level of safety equivalent to that of a car seat.  It weighs about one pound.  And, as if all that weren’t cool enough, it comes in its own handy dandy little transport bag.  I know.  They thought of everything right?

Betcha want one huh?  Well today just might be your lucky day then because I am giving one away to a Mama (or Papa) who wants to lug one less thing through the airport.  To be entered to win, all you need to do is click your way over and read the CARES story and then come on back and leave me a comment here telling me what you found most interesting about Louise’s letter.  I’ll announce a winner on Thursday, September 4th.  If you don’t win though, and you want to be a lighter traveler like me, you can order CARES right on the website. 

And…

I’ll be sure to post a picture of our much lighter trek through the airport come next month.  Good luck and happy travels!

I’m swamped.

I’ve neglected my blog reading.   

And responding to my comments. 

And now I’m just stopping in to tell you that I’m neglecting tonight’s post as well.

I feel as though I’m engaged in a quiet combat with the school.  One that has left me drained and saddened. 

And I’m busily preparing for a certain trip to Disney World.  One that should remedy the drain.  And definitely the sad. 

Oh yeah.  And I’m supposed to be training for a 5K.  In my spare time of course.

I’ll catch up with you all soon.

Promise.

I am SO annoyed with Cassidy’s school right now.

I already told you about the para incident. 

Now today they called me and asked that I pick her up from school two hours after having dropped her off.

Why you ask?

Because one of her eyes was red and swollen and they assumed she had pink eye.

I told them she didn’t.

Yes, her eye was red and swollen.  I noticed it yesterday and inspected it myself.

And then I inspected it again this morning because it was still red and swollen. 

There was no drainage.  No bloodshot eyes.  No crust.  No film.  No general cloudy appearance.

I’m the mother of four.  I’ve dealt with my fair share of pink eye. 

No, I’m not a doctor. 

They called me and told me Cassidy’s eye was red and swollen.

Duh.

They told me she had pink eye.

I told them she didn’t.

I told them that I am far more concerned about my child’s health than they are and that if she showed any symptoms of pink eye or if I thought for a moment that there was even a remote possibility of pink eye, I would absolutely have kept her out of school and taken her to the doctor. 

I told them I thought the red eye was the result of an incident we had with Cassidy’s eyeglasses over the weekend.  I told them that I was well aware of the red eye and that I was watching it closely.  I told them I had good reason to believe it wasn’t pink eye.

They asked that I pick her up anyway.

I did.

And you can bet that when I did I inspected that darn eye.  Again.

Guess what I found.

A head.

As in the head of an insect bite.  Right underneath her lower lid.

Did I tell the school you ask?

I did.

And they told me they needed a doctor’s note stating that she didn’t have pink eye.  They told me that Cassidy would not be permitted to return to school without a doctor’s note stating that her eye was pinkless.

Yeah.  That really perturbed me.

I got the doctor’s note though.

From a doctor.  An honest to goodness, board certified, real life doctor.  A pediatrician in fact.  A pediatrician who specializes in infectious disease.

An infectious disease pediatrician who also happens to be my sister-in-law.

I’ll be damned if I’m going to pay that co-pay to have a doctor tell me that Cassidy was bit by an insect.

Like I said, I’m the mother of four.

Give me some credit will ya?

*****Updated to announce that Kari from Karis Ramblings is the winner of the Table Topics cube*****

We used to go to family reunions when I was a kid.  I don’t remember too terribly much about them other than hugs from perfect strangers and cheek pinching from old ladies who wore entirely too much rose-scented perfume.  There was lots of singing around the campfire too.  To this day I can still deliver a perfect rendition of a song my Uncle Clare introduced me to many moons ago.  He called it Ticky Tocky and back then I drove my older cousins crazy insisting that we do it again and again.  It was one of those action songs that, by the last verse, left everybody standing pigeon-toed, elbows back, knees together, chin down and tongues out with their boo-tays pithced out as far as they’d go.  We’d sway those pitched out boo-tays back and forth while attempting to sing the words in spite of protruding tongues. 

As a child I thought there was nothing better than seeing all the adults do that little number.

Of course now I realize that there was a reason Ticky Tocky was saved for the end of the night.  I’m sure it had a little something to do with alcohol consumption and inhibitions and all that.

And while I certainly wouldn’t pass up a good rendition of Ticky Tocky if the mood struck, I’ve come across another form of clean family entertainment that involves nary a pitched butt.

Table Topics.

Table Topics are cubes that contain everything you need to inspire a thought-provoking, lighthearted, or downright hilarious conversation right at your own dinner table.  Or around a campfire as the case may be. 

Each cube is stocked with tons of conversation starters printed on cute little cards.

I first came across this product two years ago when we bought my in-laws a cube for Christmas.  They had just moved to a new neighborhood (well, state really) and had talked about hosting dinners and game nights with their new neighbors.  I thought that a cube full of ice breaker topics would be perfect for them.

Then, as often happens, I started wanting a cube of my own.  As luck would have it, the folks at Table Topics sent me one to try out.

And wouldn’t you know I LOVE it.

We have the family cube and we have been using it at dinner.  It’s a great way to get the kids to open up about things that I never even considered asking.  Not because I didn’t want to know, but because it’s more common than not for dinner conversation to center around school and work and weekend plans.  And there isn’t anything wrong with that, but it’s nice sometimes to learn more about the people we love most.  Things we might not even have thought to ask.

I suppose you know what’s coming next right?

Uh-huh.  I’m giving one away.

One lucky winner will receive the Family Gathering Edition of Table Topics.  And hey, I’ll even throw in the lyrics to Ticky Tocky for your next reunion.  Want to win?  Just leave me a comment here (by Tuesday night at 9:00 Arizona time) telling me why your dinner time conversation could use a kick start.  Oh, and be sure to click your way over to Table Topics to have a look around.  Even if you don’t buy one for yourself, do keep your Christmas shopping list in mind.  Table Topics has a cube for just about every occasion; I’m sure there is someone you know who’d love one!

When I was a kid, I was one of those who would hoard all of my Halloween candy until, like, Fourth of July.  I’d eat one or two pieces a day until all I had left were those nasty peanut butter taffy things and peppermints.  I’ve never been a fan of peppermints.  I even bought an old book at a thrift store for the sole purpose of cutting out its innards to create a secret hiding place for my stash.  Not that anybody was after it, but that doesn’t make a hollow book any less cool. 

Yeah, so, now that your mind is all focused on hidden candy treasure, let me share the real reason for the telling of my hoarding story.

I’ve been given some awards recently.  And rather than turn right around and display them I’ve been hoarding.

Old habits die hard.

Tracey at Grace Comes by Hearing and Kristen at No Small Thing thought highly enough of me to bestow the Arte y Pico award on little old Such The Spot.  So, thanks ladies for thinking of me!  And, for the record, you gals are totally groovy in my book too. 

And as if that weren’t enough bling for one day…

Soliloquy (I swear one day I’ll be able to spell that without looking it up) at She Just Had To Say It has passed on this little prize…

Before I had children (well, after Torri really, but before everybody else) I had a bumper sticker on the back of my car that said Girls Kick ASS.  Nowadays when I see bumper stickers along those lines I cringe.  Can you believe I saw one at the grocery store the other day that said, “If you’re going to ride my @$$ at least pull my hair.” 

It was attached to the bumper of a minivan. 

KLASSY.

Anyway, while I seem to have gotten over my girls kick @$$ phase, I have to admit that I’m still totally diggin’ this award in spite of the kick @$$-ness of it.  Because really, when you get right down to it, even us boring old thirtyish momma bloggers wanna kick a little from time to time.

Don’t we?

Thanks cyber-chicks.  You made my day!

Here she was before…

And here she is now…

Those metal brackets on her teeth are actually quite becoming don’t ya think?  And for the record, yes: that hair in her eyes drives me batty!

- Quick!  I need help coming up with themed costume ideas for our visit to Mickey’s Not So Scary Halloween Party at Disney World next month.  We try to do a family theme (one year it was Peter Pan and then we all went as hippies the next year).  So far, the best we can come up with is Alice in Wonderland. 

- Have I mentioned that I’m running in a 5K next month?  I am.  Or should I say I’ll be dragging?  Because I will.  I’m attempting to train but it’s too dang hot to run.  This should be interesting.

- I lost my credit card at the Post office last week.  I noticed it was gone two days later and called the credit card company asking that they put a hold on the card.  Guess what.  Some LOSER had already found the card and used it.  I’m appalled that people can be such losers.  Seriously.  And guess what they bought?  $20.27 worth of gas at a Union station at 1:16 in the morning.  Like I said: LOSERS!

- I’m just itchin’ for fall to come.  I’ve got a serious hankering (yes, I just said hankering on my blog) for some pumpkin bread.  And baked ziti.  And broccoli cheddar soup.  Those are all off limit foods for summer months because I’m freaky like that.  When I ask the kids for dinner ideas they always know that they must stick to the correct season or their requests will be turned down.  You know, like wraps, salads and bbq during summer months.  Casseroles, lasagnas, baked chicken and soups are reserved for fall and winter.  You guys do that too right?

- Need. Creative. School. Lunch. Ideas. Help.

- I’m thinking of coloring my own hair.  Not highlights or anything, just back to my root color.  Got any tips for me?

Cass is getting a new parapro (one-on-one educational aide) tomorrow. 

While Jeff and I were grocery shopping last Friday morning I got a call on my cell from the mom of one of the little girls who was in Cassidy’s class last year.  The mom asked if I had a second to talk and then proceeded to tell me that when she was dropping her own kids at school that morning she had witnessed Cassidy being jerked from the playground equipment by her parapro.

Strike one.

The mom approached the parapro and told her that her behavior was inappropriate and that she (the mom) would be calling Cassidy’s mom (me) and informing me of what she (the mom) saw.

You can imagine my reaction to this little piece of news.

Those who know me well know that I’m not one to hold my tongue.

And when it comes to this little girl, well, let’s just say I’m a tad bit protective.

Long story short:

The principal was called.  Our feelings were made crystal clear.  By the end of the school day, the parapro was relieved of her duties (as far as Cass is concerned anyway).  She’ll still be working at the school, only with another child.

I have mixed feelings on this.

I don’t know this woman really well, but from what I have seen she is an older, very gentle, very mild, very nice woman.  I had a hard time picturing her jerking anybody around, much less a child.  But when this incident happened, it seems to me the right thing to do would have been for her to approach her supervisor and let her know what happened.  That way, the supervisor would have been prepared for the call from Cassidy’s parents.

She wasn’t prepared though.  Because the parapro didn’t tell her what happened.

Strike Two.

Then, over the weekend, I came to find out that earlier last week (well before this incident on Friday morning) some of the staff at the school had been asking whether the parapro’s “handling” of Cassidy was appropriate or not.

As in, apparently this type of thing has happened more than once since this school year began on July 16th.

Well, now obviously, that is so totally  strike three.

I’m not sure yet how I’m going to proceed since having acquired this information.  A talk with the principle is definitely in order.  After that though, I don’t know yet.

I can say that I am pleased with the new parapro Little Miss Cass will be working with for the rest of the year.  She is much younger than the original.  That wouldn’t be important but for the fact that Cassidy is wound pretty tight and it takes a supersonic energy level to keep up with her.  The new gal is also very sweet and seems genuinely interested in helping Cass to progress rather than to just make it through the day.

As for what to do about the other stuff, well, I’m thinking on it.  And praying about it.

It’s not something I want to just ignore because that isn’t doing anybody any favors.  But I don’t want to go on a witch hunt either.  It’s proving to be a fine line.  One that I’m not sure how to walk. 

I’m so thankful though for the courage of the mom who did what she did.

And equally disheartened that someone I trusted would treat my daughter that way.

Repeatedly.

What would you do?

I finished it this weekend.  And by “I”, I of course mean we.  Jeff had to put up the hardware for the drapery and hang the wall art so that everything was all even and stuff.  When you ask an engineer to hang a picture you’d best be prepared for an arsenal of hi-tech laser leveling equipment.  If it were me, I’d just eye it and pound a nail into the wall.  I’m not complaining, I’m just sayin’. 

Anywho…

The new dining room is a big improvement, no?  One might even call it, oh I don’t know, rich maybe.

Seeing as how he was my first baby boy, I didn’t know what to expect. 

I’d heard horror stories, from moms of boys.  They warned of lizards in pockets, rocks in dryers, and bloody skinned up knees.

Perhaps those things are in my future.

I’m okay with that.

For now, I’m enjoying the sweet parts of this perfect little man, the parts I didn’t expect.

I never expected that the smell of boy sweat differed from that of a little girl.  Or that I would actually enjoy breathing it in.

I never expected that shopping for little cargo shorts and polos and baseball caps would be just as much fun as picking out frilly pink dresses and bold striped tights.

I never expected that the fresh discovery of choo-choo trains and garbage trucks and race cars would be invigorating.

I never expected that his determination to “do it” (without help that is) would be endearing.

Or that he’d request songs at bedtime: “Grace” (Amazing Grace) and “Baby” (Rock-a-Bye) among his favorites.

I never expected any of these things, but I’m so very thankful for each and every one.

For his dimpled little tush and his solid, stocky body.  For those big baby blues and the blond locks that curl if we let them get long enough.  For his running and jumping and that irresistible giggle.  For the excited “Mooooooo-mmy” he yells out from his crib when he hears me pad past his room in the morning.  For the way he asks for his “hunt” (milk) at the start of his day.  For the sight of him exploring bugs and lizards in the backyard.  For his love of books and animals and jets.

He’s two today.

And like I always did with his sisters before him, I wonder how my heart will possibly remain intact if my love for him continues to grow with each passing year.

Happy Birthday little man.

Taken One Year Ago Today