Really? Again?

Remember this picture from two years ago?

You can read about it in This Post. <-click on link

The readers digest version is that When John and I went to NYC two years ago, I picked up a big chocolate bar because it said "Times Square" on it. Within a day or two my bloodhound of a child had sniffed it out, and was chowing down on it.

So, on this last trip to NYC, John picked me up a replacement bar. It sat undisturbed in my room for several days until one day Christopher came waltzing out of my room smelling of chocolate.

I ran in to find this- (sorry the picture is upside down- I can't seem to fix it)

Luckily John picked me up a spare. Ü

Ted's

There's this hot dog place in Tempe called Ted's. It's actually quite popular. According to John, it's not an uncommon site to see the line wrapped around the building. They have Regular, All-beef, Foot-long, Polish, Italian, Bratwurst, white hots... Their shakes, fries, and onion rings are really good too. Apparently they even have hamburgers and chicken, but as my husband says "You go for the dawgs".

So we took the kids there for the first time the other night.

The other kids liked it, but Nick could hardly believed he'd lived 13 years without ever experiencing the delights of Ted's.

The unexpected bonus was that this little trip to Tempe was good enough to make up for all the cool places that John would get to go to and leave Nick behind. (England, Tokyo, Hawaii, NYC) If only the other kids were so easy to buy off.

Just because

look what came in the mail today

1 year

4 blogs

341 pages

Back on the diet wagon

I had my initial weigh in yesterday for the next challenge at Catz.

I spent the last 4 weeks eating whatever I wanted. It was great.

But like all good things, it had to come to and end and I had to face the consequences of my choices. In other words, the scale. And the trainers.

I was asked once if they (the trainers) are supportive at all, and yes, they are, to a certain extent. One is a little more encouraging and supportive than the other, (high fives at the scale and at the end of a hard work out) and the other is a little crankier. After all, I am paying them to help me lose weight. If I don't lose weight, they fail too, and so they are a little tough on us.

To illustrate, I overheard a conversation where one girl was accusing him of being mean or strict or something. "What are your goals?" he said. "If your goals are just to get some exercise, then great, you're doing awesome, but if you want to lose weight, then, yeah, I'm going to be a little tough on you."

So any guesses as to how much I've gained?

Any brave souls willing to venture a guess?

No? (smart choice- John just guessed 10- he's in the dog house.)

Only 5.

(I was actually pleasantly surprised)

So Food Vacation's over. 8 more weeks.

The only downside is that (hopefully) my maternity swimsuit won't fit any more and I'll have to buy a new one and I LOATHE swimsuit shopping.

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This post brought to you by the makers of Girl Scout cookies, Sweet's Cinnamon Bears, Cornish Pasty Co., Paradise Bakery, Camelot Cooking Club, Sprout's bread, Einsteins, churros from Disneyland, Coke, and any of the chocolates that John brought home from his various trips.

Where there's a will....

....There's a way.

And this boy is as determined as they come.

His favorite activity is riding his scooter.

Unfortunately he can't ride whenever he wants because he needs someone out there at all times to make sure he doesn't get lost or run over.

So sadly his scooter stays locked up in the garage.

The other three kids had this same dilemma, but they just accepted their fate and waited for me to be benevolent and open the garage door for them.

Quietly accepting his fate is not something Christopher understands.

Over the past couple of weeks I have found random objects pushed up against the wall under the garage door button.

A step stool... a chair... even the wagon. Somehow they were never quite high enough.

Then the other day I heard our last, pathetic bar stool being pushed across the tile towards the garage door. I watched with interest to see if it would work.

By himself he managed to prop open the garage door to the house. (It's designed to swing shut, it doesn't like to stay open.) And haul the stool out over the threshold.

And we have success! - a fact I'm not exactly thrilled about. I hope his determination and persistance, and ability to think outside the box will serve him well in later years, but right now it's inconvenient for me.

Putting it all in perspective

Okay, so everything on the trip didn't go perfectly smoothly.

First we were a little late because I thought I lost the GPS. We spent a half an hour looking for it and were a little late getting to Disneyland because of it. I was afraid I left it on the bumper of the car and I was going to have to figure out how to navigate myself around town old school. (you know, paper maps and asking people for directions)

Finally Nick had an inspired idea, and the GPS was found.

Next, I left my cell phone in the car. Or at least I was 50% sure I left it in the car. 40% me wondered if it was in the hotel room and 10% of me worried I dropped it in a parking lot, or left it at breakfast or something.

That was inconvenient because I was planning on letting the older two take off on their own and go on "scary rides" and check in every once in awhile. Also I was hoping to meet up with another friend and fellow husband-less mom who happened to be there at the same time. I elected to not spend 30-45 minutes dragging the two younger kids back to the car for the 50/50 chance that my phone was there. I kept my eyes open, but never ran into Tricia.

Then after Indiana Jones, Nick informed me he left his glasses on the ride. He went back and hung out with the ride attendants and they sadly informed him his glasses were no where to be found. "Sorry, kid" they said. "Check back later. Maybe someone will turn them in."

I was pretty livid. Despite the fact that I was clearly not guilt-free in the losing things category (although nothing was really lost), his lost glasses really irked me. That would be the second pair lost in less than a year.

So fuming a little, I took the little kids to go for a relaxing train ride around the park while the older two went off to find some thrills. We were going to meet back up in a little bit.

The train arrived at the station and there was a little commotion as a lady tripped and fell off the steps to the train. I heard a little girl cry "Grandma!" and I pulled out the camera to snap some pictures of my boys while I waited for her to be helped up. Maybe she sprained her ankle or something. I wasn't paying a whole lot of attention because I figured the last thing this lady needed was another gawker. (I can relate to falling on my face regularly) The attendants didn't seem too concerned, so I just figured I'd kill some time while we waited for her to be helped up.
Next thing I knew, hysterical kids (her grandkids?) were being rushed away from the scene. I looked over to where she fell and realized she was still down and laying abnormally still. Then I saw the blood pooling under her head.
The attendants suddenly were rushing us all away from the scene, the train was emptied umbrellas were brought over to block the view of curious onlookers. Christopher didn't understand why we were leaving the train station- he looked at me , rubbed his chest in baby sign language, and very deliberately pointed to the train and said "Pwease?"

As we walked away, several thoughts were running through my head. First, I was sure she was dead. Just like that. On vacation with her family, stepping of the train, and then out of the blue she was gone. I knew that head wounds bleed badly, and she could still be fine, but it was the look on the faces of the family members being rushed away that had me fearing the worst.

So there I was, concerned about material things, thinking how my day wasn't going as smoothly as it could, and worrying about replacing glasses and cell phones.

And suddenly I was ashamed.

I was facing a couple minor inconveniences, and this other family was facing a tragedy. Best case scenario, their day at The Happiest Place on Earth was going to be cut short to spend the rest of the day in the hospital with grandma. I was looking at a few hundred dollars to replace the things lost, and who knows how much they were looking at in medical bills. Worst case scenario, Disneyland for them would forever be the place where grandma died.

Things ended on a better note, the cell phone and glasses were found, and a little while after the train incident, I was standing in the middle of a walkway examining a map, when a pushy medical person yelled at me to step to the right. They had a gurney coming through. I was glad to see she seemed conscious (and not covered up by a sheet) although clearly she needed immediate medical attention. I prayed that it was nothing a couple of stitches couldn't fix.

I just hope that the next time I'm dealing with a couple of minor inconveniences, it won't take witnessing somebody else's major problems to put it all in perspective for me. We still had each other, and our good health.

People over possessions.

I'm sure it won't be the last time I let minor things get in the way of the big picture, but hopefully I can recover quickly.