DadaMama

The Best Imitation of Myself

She was the last person you'd expect to see at a Ben Folds concert: an awkward, gangly teenage girl dressed for church in a carnation-pink dress and white cardigan. The hem of the dress is gingham and printed with cheerful green frogs and butterflies--it's a dress that could easily belong to a six year old. The hem is just shy of being too short, and the whole outfit makes her conspicuous amongst the hipsters in aviator glasses and sorority sisters in club gear. I think she's here to see Ben with her mom.

Dashing Husband and I take our seats to the left of the stage, and I watch as The Girl in the Frog Dress takes a place on the floor. I leave to get a concert t-shirt and find myself in line behind The Girl in the Frog Dress. She has an enormous white bow in her hair; I imagine it's a sail. Like me, she is there for a concert t-shirt, but it's impossible to imagine her wearing something so...normal.

The show begins and I continue to watch The Girl in the Frog Dress. She knows all the words to every song, even the most recent releases. When Ben comes to the left side of the stage, she screams and jumps up and down and waves as if she's just seen the Beatles. I love him too, but my love is nothing compared to this tennage hero worship. I watch her hold her camers way over her head and fire it in the direction of the stage, something she does numerous times.

She sways and waves and tugs her cardigan back over her slender shoulders, the giant bow on her head sailing far above the crowd. I watch her sing along and cover a shocked "O" mouth with her hand when Ben says, "fuck."  She giggles and turns to her mom, the happiest fan girl in the world.

Come fairies, take me out of this dull world ...

I have a confession to make: I once wore a set of fake elf ears to a Lord of the Rings premiere. I put them on and arranged my hair around them for the best effect, and then I waited to see if anyone at the movie theater would notice. The guy at the ticket booth did a double take, but no one else even batted an eyelash.

I would like to note that I do make a totally hot elf (thanks for taking that picture in 2002, Lori!).

 

Anyway, you can imagine my delight that the town in which I live hosts a medieval faire every year. I haven't dressed up for it in a few years (being pregnant and/or breastfeeding is not so easy in medieval garb), but I do own a silver cloak and a corset. I also have a reproduction of  Arwen's necklace, which I like to pair with the aforementioned elf ears. I used to have a pair of fairy wings. I'm not sure why I've never been to a science fiction and/or fantasy convention, but I think I need to go. Those are my people. I never miss a chance to put on a costume if I can help it.

My children don't stand a chance, do they? I mean, they're bound to be nerds. Technology + dressing up as pirates, knights, sci-fi characters, etc. = WIN!

As usual, the faire did not disappoint.

 

There were beautiful horses (my favorite).

 

There were knights and fairies.

 

There were giant bubbles.

 

 

There was jousting, which completely mesmerized the children.

 

 

Gus got his picture taken with Sir William, who was apparently the smart-ass knight.

 

The boys loved The Amazing Maze, which is basically a bunch of colored fabric strips arranged so that small children can go screaming through without adult supervision. Huzzah!

 

There was a maypole dance, too.

 

It was a good day.

Education

We went to the park this afternoon. It was a gorgeous day, the kind that makes me love this state and kindly forgive it the hellfire-and-brimstone summers we suffer through every year. In fact, the weather today was so nice that I married it.

On the way home from the park, Will (who was none too happy to be dragged away from the park for this thing we call "dinner") started whining and pointing out the window.

"I want to go theeeeeeereeeeeeeeeeee!" he screeched. I looked, and noticed that "there" was an ABC Liquor store.

"Will, you can't go there until you're 21," I replied.

"Besides, it's Sunday," added Dashing Husband.

"You know what's interesting?" I said to Dashing Husband.

"What?" he asked.

 "Our son just asked to go to a liquor store, and we didn't say 'Hell, no!' or 'You're crazy!'--just, 'When you're older' and 'Not on Sunday.'"

"That's right," said Dashing Husband, "know your Blue Laws, son."

The Colonic Calliope

There's an exhibit making it's way around the country. It's called Grossology: The (Impolite) Science of the Human Body. It just so happens that we're all big nerds here at Chez Dada, and we think an afternoon at our local natural history museum is an afternoon well spent. And when we can combine the intellectual satisfaction of learning with our less refined enjoyment of boogers, pimples, burps, farts and other disgusting functions of the human body?

It is nirvana, my friends. 

Grossology is an interactive exhibit that invites, nay, dares visitors to revel in things they normally revile. Want to see what happens inside your body when you vomit? Well, kid, step right over here to the Vomit Center and move this lever while your brother turns this wheel! When you're done with that, come right over here and smell these smells! We'll play a little game--you smell it, and then tell me where the smell originated: anus, armpit, foot, or mouth!

There was much giggling between Gus and me, when we were trying to decide who would smell the butt scent. We finally roped Dashing Husband into doing it. Hilarious! Shenanigans! Anus!

There was a pinball machine emblazoned with large intestines and the name "GAS ATTACK!" You scored points by "eating" gas-producing foods. Cabbage points were very important! Not that I know why <ahem>. 

 

Our favorite exhibit was called "Toot Toot." I bet you can't guess what THAT was about! There was this crazy air-blowing little machine that let you explore the physics of gas. Oh, the tooting and the rolling about and giggling!

 

"Physics, schmizicks!" said Gus. "I am making a hilarious and ridiculously loud fart noise!" Even better than the noise was the fact that his mother condoned and even encouraged him to behave this way.

 

The kids also got "digested" by entering the mouth, sliding down the esophagus, rolling around in the stomach and exiting the rectum. Who among you has a picture of their child exiting a giant rectum replica? Yep. This one's going in the display.

 

Later, we all took a turn at shooting "germs" (ping-pong balls) into a pair of giant nostrils that would let loose with a humongous sneeze and shoot "boogers" every few minutes. We tried our hands at Urine: The Game, which involved  filtering the waste products out of the bloodstream and into the urine.

We ended our tour with a brief game of Operation. Dr. Will saved this man's life by removing all of his internal organs just in the nick of time.

 

Superbaby was impressed.

 

You should go.

Vignette (Sad)

There is an elderly couple in line behind me at the fabric store. The elderly man is short, stout, and wearing a bucket hat. His checked shirt is tucked into pants that are belted high on his waist. When he smiles at my baby, I notice that he's missing a tooth. His eyes sparkle and seem childlike. He is harmless, quiet, the very definition of benign. The baby flashes a half smile; the old man starts making duck noises. I think nothing of this--babies bring out the kid in everyone.

The old woman is short, too. She smiles at the baby and remarks on how quiet he is. I smile back. Her pale grey hair is cropped short, and she's carrying an armload of bright orange felt. It reminds me of pumpkin Halloween costumes. "Stay here," she says to the old man, "I need to get some thread." He nods his understanding.

The woman has been gone for just a couple of minutes when the old man gets tired of making duck noises at the baby and wanders away. She returns with her armload of orange felt and says, "Where did he go?" I show her where he's standing, over by the Halloween decorations.

"Oh, thank goodness," she says. "He has Alzheimer's. Sometimes he wanders off. I just needed some thread." She tacks on this last sentence by way of explanation, I think, but it sounds like a plea for understanding. I don't know what to say, so I just nod.

The old man wanders back over to where we're standing, and the old woman reprimands him, but gently, like I would speak to a two-year-old. "Don't wander off!" she says. "When I tell you to stay in line, I need you to stay. Do you want to give me a heart attack?" The old man looks ashamed. I feel as if the rug has been pulled out from under me. I have the feeling that I have just witnessed something I wasn't supposed to see.

I pay for my purchases and leave.

Thanks for Asking

Mmmmm, dinner was brown stew chicken from the Reggae Shack (our local Jamaican hole-in-the-wall). And no, I do not know which parts of the chicken have been stewed in brown or what the brown is made of, and I am smart enough not to ask. All I can do is enjoy the delicious. Spicy sweet! Also, fried plantains = happiness.

I saw Speed Racer totally by accident this afternoon. We'd gone to see Horton Hears a Who, but when we got there it had been canceled to make way for Indiana Jones (aside: Will calls him Indi-and-out-of Jones, which is the best wrong name EVER). If you know anything about kids, you know one does not promise them a movie and then back out at the very door of the movie theater. So, Speed Racer it was. Actually, it was a pretty good movie. The special effects were neat, and the story wasn't super lame (only mildly lame)--but I must say, what's up with the curse words in a PG movie? Now I'm going to be parentally guiding my kids away from saying "ass" and "shit" and giving people the finger.

I am off to finish To Kill A Mockingbird now. I know! I've never read it! And I call myself an English major! I agree, that is completely cringe worthy.

So, That Was Sunday

I've been up since 6 am, when a small, almost three-year-old boy climbed in bed next to me to pet my face and whisper, "Maaaa-maaa!"

I've made some headway in the housecleaning department, even though you would never know it to look at the place.

My lovely husband finished Superbaby's dresser and installed it in the nursery, where it awaits tiny clothes to fill it.

We went to the medieval faire, where my children promptly got too hot and came home with wee sunburns across their noses and cheeks. Why is it always unseasonably hot on faire day? I swear it was at least 80 degrees today; this from a day that started off as dreary and as chilly as you'd expect February to be. We had a good time, but I forgot to charge the camera battery and no pictures were taken. Which is too bad, because if you could have seen the look of glee on Gus's face while he rode a pony, or the fun that was had in the Amazing Maze, or even the happiness brought on by being given the opportunity to shoot blunt arrows at a guy dressed like a knight--well, you'd certainly have enjoyed those pictures. We had strawberry lemonade, fish-n-chips, and vanilla ice cream. We did not make it to the jousting, but we did manage to catch the royal procession, and meet a barbarian with horns. Will thought he'd like to ride a pony until he walked up to one,  which is when he thought better of it.

My lovely friend mamadaisy brought over three HUGE meals for me to keep in my freezer. Clearly she loves me a whole lot, because she made enough to feed the neighbors as well as us Dadas, and has mentioned bringing over more food after Superbaby arrives. Enchiladas, shepherd's pie and baked ziti, here we come ...

I made bbq chicken sandwiches in the crockpot, which I thought would be a hit. Boy, was I wrong. Gus AND Will told me they hated it. It's really nice to cook for a couple of ingrates.

I don't have to go to work tomorrow. Cheers! 

Coors Light and Other Evils

It turns out that taking the kids into the wild for the weekend was a good idea. The weather was gorgeous, and there were plenty of rocks and hickory nuts to throw, as well as sticks to beat each other with. If you have ever camped with boys, you know they ask for very little else when in the woods, except maybe for marshmallows, which are all of 79 cents a bag.

Highlights of the trip:

1. Our redneck neighbors, who drank Coors Light (or was it Michelob Light) and talked too loudly about hunting deer right up until quiet time at 11 pm. They arrived in an RV, which should have been our first clue. More than one member of the party was wearing hunting camo, which should have been our next clue.

2. Our redneck neighbors blaring "Knocking on Heaven's Door" after quiet time. Thank goodness they only turned it up for the best part.

3. One of our redneck neighbors decided his buddies were being too loud, and took it upon himself to quiet them by shouting, "Shut UP, you retards!" This happened more than once. The retards did not shut up, so we  consoled ourselves by considering waking them in the morning with a friendly and helpful, "Wake UP, you retards!"

4. The brainless armadillo who wandered into our campsite on Saturday evening, and then couldn't seem to find his way out. Actually, I believe there was more than one brainless armadillo. They're probably still stuck there.

I didn't realize until just now what a pivotal role our redneck neighbors played this weekend. I suppose I should thank them, except I'm too busy trying to get "Knockin' on Heaven's Door" out of my head. It was nice, however, to get out of the house and into the open air, and to remember that life does go on without a computer and a television. Gus came home with a load of hickory nuts and a cold, and Will asked me on the drive home if we could go caming again "right now." I managed to talk him into "later."

Since I quit the Army, camping isn't really my "thing," but I can't wait to do this again. After we get a bigger tent, of course.

At the Zoo

We visited the zoo today with the boys.

Highlights were the new baby elephant (so cute!) and the giraffe encounter.

Did you know a giraffe's tongue is long enough to lick its eyeballs?

Pictures and video to follow tomorrow. I have some especially compelling footage of Gus whining.

Auspicious Beginnings

'Tis a brave new world, friends.

The Democrats control the House, and possibly the Senate.

And Donald Rumsfeld has resigned.

And Britney Spears is divorcing Kevin Federline.

Bush and Britney have dropped their losers like the respective bad habits they are. But it looks like Britney will have the bigger fight, because K-Fed wants the children ... and spousal support. Because buying him a record company wasn't enough. I can't say that I'm surprised.

I consider it a good omen that these things all happened on practically the same day. The world feels just a little righter.

Updated to add:

I have been outblogged again. Dooce sums up my feelings about all this perfectly.