The Proper Way to Go to the Doctor

Today, we have a guest blogger on It's My First Day, and it is none other than Samantha.

Hello everyone, Sam here! Today, I'm taking over Mommy's blog to share my wisdom with the babies of the world, and my first installment will teach you how to go to the doctor--correctly. Let's face it, none of us like getting shots. It's a miserable experience and I don't think our parents realize just what they're putting us through. I always end up with a fever that wears me out and puts a serious damper on my climbing for at least two days. Then, when I'm sick, they won't even take me to the park, even though their stupid shots are what made me this way! Jerks! Fear not, fellow babies of the blogosphere, because if you stick with me, I'll teach you how to make sure that going to the doctor is just as miserable for your Mom or Dad as it is for you! Use the wisdom wisely.

Yesterday, my Mom told me we were going to the doctor. She told me the doctor would check my ears, eyes, teeth, arms and legs, while pretending to give me a check up. If your mom does this, it is important to giggle and smile and play along. This will lull your mom into a false sense that you are going to be better than expected at the doctor.

When we got to the doctor, the receptionist told my mom that need her to fill out some forms at the 1-year visit. This is what you might call a lucky break, one you may or may not get to encounter. I was lucky because when mom is trying to fill out a form on a clipboard, she can not also hold a very wiggly toddler who likes to "help" with the pen. She had no choice but to put me down. If you get this opportunity, DO NOT waste it. This is the perfect chance to run around the waiting room and touch everything. More importantly, you can try to touch everyONE. I've never met a newborn I didn't like to poke, and fortunately for me, there were several in the room. This made sure that Mom and to get up and yank me back to her chair roughly every 30 seconds. Not only did this extend the form-filling-out time exponentially, but it mortified Mom, because if some strange kid had hovered all over me when I was two days old, she would have popped something internally and wanted to bust some heads. It's easy to embarrass parents, but acutely mortifying them takes more skills. When all the newborns were gone, I found a kid my age who couldn't walk yet. I would run over, grab his toy (so much better than my own that I will not play with outside of my own home) and run off with it. Again, this ensured Mom could not finish the form. If your mom tries to bribe you with snacks, I have a little trick to make that fail, while still getting you the goodness you seek. Grab handfuls of whatever it is and then run back around the room shoving them in your mouth. You get a snack, but your mom still has to get up to keep you in check, and as an added bonus, you leave a trail of cheerios behind you mom has to clean up. Win, Win, Win! The trick to making all this work without reflecting badly on you is to wave and smile at the other people in the waiting room while you wreak havoc. This way, they will think of you as a total sweetie who must not have any boundaries at home, instead of a demon seed. You do not want them feeling sorry for your mother, you want them shooting her annoyed looks. This can continue until your mom gives up on the form and hands it back.

While mom is cleaning up your cheerio trail, the nurse will come and call your name! It is your turn to see the doctor! Make sure to shoot a parting wave and toothy grin at the waiting room crowd (ahh, how cute!) and then just run over to the nurse and follow her. Don't bother looking back for your mom, you didn't hear her yell "Samantha and Mom" did you? Besides, she is busy stuffing all your toys and stuff into the diaper bag and running behind both of you while unknowingly dragging your blankie on the floor. She'll catch up soon enough, I'm sure, but pretending you have any concern for your mother's whereabouts only makes her feel loved and needed. You don't want to get a clingy mom on your hands.

If you swing it right, you can get one more chance to frustrate your Mom before you get to the exam room. Walk right next to the nurse and your Mom down the whole hallway, polishing your halo and waving at all the other doctors and nurses. This will help mom relax slightly and stop sweating from the waiting room fiasco (if your mom is actively sweating, you have done your job). Right before you get to the room they want you to go in, dash as fast as you can in another direction, just for kicks. Randomly running off is good, but it's a rookie move. If you can make it to someplace there are other people to see you (and shoot your mother more annoyed looks when she finally catches you), you have mad skills. Myself? I made it behind the receptionist's counter and into the main office. Booyah! At this point, your freedom is over, and you will be carried, preferably kicking and babbling, into the exam room.

The nurse told my mom to put me on a table that was covered in paper. They say it's there for your protection, but it is not for your comfort. I decided I wouldn't stand for it, ripped off one end and and shoved the paper out of my way before sitting down on the table. Don't worry about germs, that's your mom's job to stress about! To keep the cuteness going, while mom tried to undress me, I literally danced out of my pants. That helped balance the yelling when she tried to take off my shirt, and the fact that upon removal of my shoes, I picked one up and licked the bottom of it. Being naked in public is it's own reward, so go ahead and behave yourself while they measure you, besides, you don't want them thinking you're shorter than you are. Give that measurement a good stretch!

When the nurse leaves, cling to your mom, give her smiles, and make her think that her ordeal is over now that she's got you captive. While you wait for the doctor, do all your favorite tricks! Point at everything she asks for, "Where's the door? Where's mommy's hair? Where's your shoes?" Say a few words on command. Throw the woman a bone, she's been through a lot today. Then the doctor will come in the room.

Instead of greeting him with a smile, stare at him suspiciously. Whatever you do, do not return his wave, and do not do anything your mom tells him you can. When she says you know 10 words, refuse to say a single one on command. The point is to make her look crazy. When the Dr. is explaining important things about vaccine side-effects to your mom, it's time to decide that you are starving, the fact that it's not time to eat means nothing. Start screaming and yelling "num num!" at random intervals. Scream through the entire exam, remember, if your doctor can actually hear your lungs when he is trying to listen to them, you aren't trying. After the exam, when it's time for mommy's questions, she will give you a snack and you can eat ravenously and say "Num, num" to your heart's content. Here is an excellent time to decide you will wave at the doctor, so do that. If he doesn't wave back, because he's talking to mommy, give him the business in a loud angry voice.

Then, the nurse will come back to give you several shots. The only advice I have here is to yell "mama!" heartbreakingly when the nurse puts you back on the paperless table to maximize pre-shot guilt. While you are getting the shots, scream and sob, but keep your eyes open and stare at you mother reproachfully as if this is all her fault. If you have a very advanced vocabulary, you can say "Et tu, Mama?", but if you are like most of us babies, you'll just have to let your eyes do the talking. Look betrayed, look upset, but mostly, look miserable. After the shots, mommy will give you your blankie or lovey and cuddle you on the way out. Some kids think the continued screaming is the best route, but I disagree. I've found that screaming automatically puts mom back into "problem-solving" mode to get you out of the office without a scene, while quieter sobbing, and the occasional gasp from the depths of your soul, will win you the most sympathy and guilt. On the ride home, lay in your carseat like a slug. Make sure that when she looks in the rear-view mirror, she sees 1) your many bandaids, and 2) the look on your face that shows you've lost the will to live. A master of these skills can get Mom's eyes to well up along with yours. Your work here is now done.

If you go to the doctor properly, as I've now imparted the wisdom to do, you will make sure your mom or dad is as miserable as you, yet leave them with enough guilt and sympathy that you will recieve nothing but cuddles, love, and excuses for any finky behavior for the next several days. That, my young friends, is what makes me a true artist. You are welcome.

It's Times Like This...

That make me wish I was a better example to my kid.

The scene: Sam is eating in her highchair while I struggle making dinner for us grown-ups (dinner is pretty much always a struggle for me because I am a lousy cook and hate doing it). Daniel dashes up the stairs, without telling me where to find something he moved that I need for dinner. It may be a small kitchen, but his ability to squirrel stuff away in places I didn't know existed knows no bounds.

Me: (yelling up the stairs after him) DANIEL!!!!!!

Sam: (yelling from her highchair): DAAA DAAAA!!!!

Ooops. Yeah, well, what are you gonna do? I guess I'm going to have to give up my habit of yelling from one story to another in the house. I really don't know what I'm going to replace it with though, because running up and down the stairs a million times a day is never going to happen. Maybe we'll just text to the next room, reaching a whole new level of pathetic.

What do you mean I eat my feelings?

I'm back if you missed me, and hello again if you didn't notice I was gone for an extra long while (no hard feelings, I promise)!
This past weekend we decided spur of the moment (for us, which means 5 days ahead of time) to show up at my parents house in Utah and totally surprise my mom and sister with a visit from Sam (my dad was in on our plans). One of the things we got to celebrate with Sam's grandparents was her impending first birthday! I can not believe how the time has flown by, but sure enough, the big 1 is just around the corner. In honor of this momentous occasion, here is a picture of Sam celebrating her big day with her first piece of birthday cake.
Hmmm, maybe I should be more specific. This is a picture of the cake ritual after Sam licked a bit of frosting off her fingers, and upon discovering it to be tasty, got a glazed yet crazy look in her eyes, proceeded to grab the whole slice with both hands and shove it into her mouth like an adorable bald wood-chipper. It was absolute carnage for about 2 minutes while cake and frosting flew in her general direction, and when there were no pinchable pieces of cake left, Sam opted to lick out the bowl to catch every last crumb, at least the ones that weren't already ground into my sweater. Apparently, Sam LOVES cake. It was like the entirety of her life (all twelve months of it) was a waste until this moment. Learning to walk full-time a few weeks ago pales to the first taste of cake on the list of milestones in her mind, I'm sure.

The next day, we went to my uncle's house to celebrate Sam's 2nd cousin's first birthday too. Miss Molly proceeded to dab her finger in the frosting of her cupcake and lick it off in a lady-like way just a few times, never really getting much into the whole cake experience. In five minutes, Molly had a nearly untouched cupcake in front of her and was itching to get down and crawl. On the other hand, after a few (agonizing) minutes of having to watch her cousin pick at the moist goodness ahead of her, Sam was finally given her cupcake which she--yep--proceeded to grab with both hands and shove into her mouth with a smile of pure joy on her face. Amid sugar-muffled shouts of "Numm!!!! NUM!" she made short work of her treat and cried when I pried her away from the pile of crumbs to clean her off. My dad, as a grandpa, says it was adorable, but honestly, I found it a little embarrassing, especially when one of my cousins chimed in with "Geez, do ever feed that kid?" Yeah, we do feed her, just not CAKE!

As I watched the look of "Where have you been all my life!?" cross Sam's face at her first taste of frosting, I was reminded of a lot of the experts I've seen lately on TV and in magazines talking about emotional eating. Basically, these people say we don't need to go on strict diets so much as figure out why we have an unhealthy relationship with food and fix that in order to lose weight. When we "love ourselves" we won't be driven to overeat and we won't be fat anymore. And it all sounds pretty reasonable on the surface, but mostly, I think people like it because it doesn't tell them to do any actual work like diet and exercise. Maybe I'm fat because Ronald McDonald was the only person to hug me as a child! If I could stop eating my feelings (and grow 5 inches), I'd be America's Next Top Model! I lost two uncles named Ben and Jerry as a teenager, and I'm just trying to recapture our relationship through Chunky Monkey. I've got to be honest, though. I'm not fat because I've got a hole in my childhood that needs filling. I'm fat because I love food. I love the taste of it, the texture of it, the smell of it. Why do I love it? To me, food tastes awesome! It's not all that hard to figure out. What I wonder is if skinny people understand that?
My husband is skinny, he has been all his life, and he likes to eat, but he can take food or leave it at any given time. He isn't what I'd call "open" to the world of flavors out there. For crying out loud, he won't eat yogurt with fruit chunks in it, anything out of the ocean period, and he hates nuts "but only when they're alone or in stuff" (what that leaves open I'm unsure of, but that's what he says). I, on the other hand have some foods I don't care for, but they are far outnumbered by the ones I love.
I have tried however, to keep my "relationship" with food as healthy as any experts could ever want in front of my daughter. We do eat really healthy at our house, lots of fruits and veggies, very little red meat, and we include Sam in our healthy meal plan while letting her taste the occasional treat. Additionally, we don't harp on the healthy food issue, we don't preach about it, and we certainly don't pretend that high fructose corn syrup is the devil incarnate. We just do our best and make healthy foods the bulk of the menu always. In short, food and I have a good relationship as far as Sam is concerned.
My mom has a theory that there are people out there that have better senses of taste than others, which is why some people love food and other people (who usually have been skinny their whole lives) are like "if you are too fat, just don't eat that. It's not hard!" Maybe it isn't hard for them. Maybe they truly aren't tasting what I'm tasting when they bite into a Krispy Kreme. I have had glasses since age 7 because my eyesight is total crap, I swear my brother has always been slightly deaf, and the sense of smell in pregnant women could rival a bomb-sniffing dog, so isn't it equally possible for the sense of taste to be more potent, more honed, and more pleasurable in some than others? Is it possible that in exchange for the vision of Mr. Magoo, Heavenly Father blessed me with taste buds that can enjoy the flavors of the food I eat on a level that far surpasses my husband, instead blessed (or stuck) with athletic ability and perfect eyes?


Watching Sam dive into her cupcake with unbridled joy and reckless abandon, I have to contend that this is true. Sam is a still a baby, she has no "emotional baggage" when it comes to food, yet she loves to eat. She has never tried a food she didn't love, and mealtime has always been fun at our house. Her cousin however, has never liked to eat. Starting from the bottle, eating always has seemed to get in the way of Molly's life and was a source of stress, while for Sam, it's a great part of her daily routine. Sam isn't a chubby baby, and always makes it very clear when she's had enough food, and hopefully, she will be able to control her love of food better than I have when she is old enough to make her own choices. I now think that learning this control is just the responsibility of having this gift of the heightened sense, and not having it is just that--a lack of control--not a sign of deep-seated psychological issues. If someone has a heightened sense of enjoyment that comes from running (which I totally don't get, by the way) no one accuses them of being crazy or unhealthy mentally because they choose to train for marathons. Okay, to be fair, I call them crazy, but only in a joking way. I'm not crazy for doing a little extra of what I get enjoyment out of either, although I understand that I need to keep my favorite activity in check more so than others might have to.
So, yes, even though I might want to bury my face in Sam's birthday cake myself, I will refrain. I do believe that the desire I have to eat tasty things comes from the same place as Sam's eating exuberance, so I will fully enjoy the wonder of being able to watch that urge played out in it's most innocent form, by someone who doesn't worry about body image, judgement of others, or having to clean the floor for that matter. Plus, it is SO much cuter when Sam does it.

Moms Play Injured!

So, quite a long time back, I wrote about my first sick day as a mom, but today is my first day on the Mom Injured Reserve list. So with today being my first day hurt, I learned something about the Mom Injured Reserve list, namely, it is exactly the same as the team roster. There is no such thing as an injured list when you're a mom. Figures.

Yesterday, I'm pretty sure I broke my little toe. I was cleaning the kitchen and jogged over to stop Sam from doing something totally disgusting with the open dishwasher. I don't even remember what it was, but she likes to lick the jet-dry dispenser, or unload and play with the cheese grater, so those are the likely culprits. As I dashed over to stop her, I managed to run into the corner of the baseboard at full speed. Three toes went one direction, and two went the other and WOW! That hurt so bad, I consider not yelling a horrible world--to be overheard by my mother on speakerphone and immediately incorporated into my baby's very limited vocabulary--to be one of my very proudest moments of self-control. Yes, I've stubbed my toe before, but this was Seriously Painful. I knew immediately it was more than just stubbed. Of course, it it was an arm or leg, yeah, I'd have no choice but to go to the doctor or hospital and get checked out, but it's my baby toe for crying out loud! Five years ago, when I was in college, I would have hobbled myself down to Campus Health, gotten a thorough workup and anything they recommended to ease the pain (drugs, crutches, a wheelchair...), hobbled back home sniffing tragically and thrown myself on the sofa in a bubble of self-pity for the remainder of the week. "I can't possibly walk to class tomorrow, I have a broken (albeit miniscule) bone, and hey, can you hand me those Pringles, I'm soo sorry to be an inconvience, it's just adding to my suffering to know I'm imposing on others. Thanks so much (Insert sad self-pitying smile here)."

That was five years ago, however, and now, I am a mom. So instead of limping directly to medical attention, I thought about what to do long and hard. So, I'm in huge pain right now. I really don't want to pay a copay for Urgent Care, frankly the thought is more painful than the toe. I don't even know what kind of doctor to make an appointment with for an injured baby toe, it just sounds stupid saying it out loud. Geez, I don't even have a general practitioner right now, I've been meaning to get one, but who wants to pay to meet a doctor when they aren't sick--will my OB/GYN fix my toe? Besides, say I do get X-Rays and the toe is broken? What in the world are they going to do with it? Cast it? Hardly. Splint it? Next to what, the stupid toe is like an inch long tops!? What if it is broken and there's an off chance they do want to do something major to protect it like a cane or crutches? There is just no way that can happen, I have a baby and all her many accessories to schlep around, so a boot or cane or crutch is going to have to be a no, anyway. It's not like I can ask my husband to take a sick day for the health of my baby toe--is he seriously supposed to help me out while I dictate from the sofa with a bandaid on a centimeter of my body? What's the point of paying for medical advice I'm just probably going to have to blow off anyhow? How could the smallest body part I could think of cause all this pain and thought? Sheesh.

So along this line of thinking, I've done nothing. Actually, I haven't "done nothing", rather, I continued doing whatever I had to. I had to sign papers for a refinance, so I cringed, shoved my swollen foot into the softest shoes I could find and hobbled myself down to the title company. I fed Sam her dinner last night, played with her, and with Daddy's help, we got her off to bed. I made myself and Daniel some dinner and cleaned it up. In short, I'm just going about my day.

I woke up this morning and sure, my baby toe is much fatter than it ought to be, it's a disturbing shade of purple, I can't bend it on its own power and if I try to bend it with my hand I hear a decidedly nasty crunching noise, but what am I going to do? I'm a mom, and we play injured because we know not playing isn't really an option. The day I'm so injured I can't play, it's going to have to be something much bigger than a baby toe, and that flat out scares me. So here I am, sucking it up, limping along, trying to find the plus sides to my Barney-hued phlanges. How about the fact that my inability to put on shoes means I don't have to leave the house, ergo no makeup and a ponytail all day long? Yes, that will do nicely. I also think managing to function on a broken toe is an excellent reason to make and eat brownies, don't you? Or even better, I'll go get those Pringles myself and eat the whole can.

Not a lot of Big Love going around...

Sure enough, cranky Carly is back again! It wasn't long at all, was it?
Anyway, special thanks to Snarky Belle (who is honestly the provider of most of my news these days), to bringing my attention to the Big Love fiasco. I'm not going to pretend I'm capable of doing a better job summing it up or stating my viewpoint than she did, so I'll just direct you all to her post .
When you are done there, come back and check out what I would add.
Am I outraged by HBO's decision to show what I deem most sacred on a TV show just for kicks and ratings? You bet. After the initial "I hate Hollywood!!!" ravings started to slow, I was able to think about a few things rationally and while I'm still frustrated, my viewpoint has taken a few shifts. Initially I was upset because it is so insensitive to show things of a sacred nature on any TV show and "how dare they?" As I thought about it, however, I started to think about all the religious ceremonies that are shown on TV or in the movies today. I've seen depictions of what are supposedly, (considering how inaccurate they are when displaying my religion, I won't pretend others are accurate either) Bar Mitzvah, a Jewish Bris, and the Jewish naming ceremony for baby girls (whose name I don't even know, but it was shown on House a few episodes ago). Catholic confession and mass is shown on a near-daily basis, even consistently parodied. For case in point, watch 30-Rock. Non-denominational Christian sermons are shown, crime shows (like Law and Order:SVU) just love to make Pastors and their families into the bad guy--what a twist, the pastor is our rapist!!! The producers of House love using Nuns and Priests as patients so house can prove what they thought were "miracles" was actually some little known disease symptom. Just last night, Criminal Minds was about a priest who murders people during exorcisms. Lisa Simpson became a Buddist, a few years back, and several years ago (like over a decade ago) on The Simpsons, the Flanders tried to baptize the Simpson kids when they discovered they weren't baptized in infancy. Additionally, the Simpsons regularly attend the Church of Springfield run by Rev. Lovejoy, where various aspects of Christian life are parodied. Basically, religious rites and attitudes are everywhere in entertainment, and rarely are they handled with much respect and dignity.

Now, what I'm not sure of is if this is always wrong or not, and I still do love a lot of these shows (some I don't watch regularly, but have seen the above examples). I honestly never thought much about any of these things as being truly offensive, but that might be simply because the things they show are not sacred to me and therefore off my radar. What I don't know, however, is how the respective church members and leadership feel about these depictions. I must admit to laughing my butt off when Homer Simpson opened the front door, and upon finding the aliens Kang and Kodos standing there, he sighs "Oh, great. MORMONS!!" Freaking hilarious. I can take a satiric barb as a member of the church, and I think there's a place to laugh at our own culture. It doesn't bother me at all when Mormons are portrayed as nosy, self-righteous, or uptight, or when outsiders hold a magnifying glass to our beliefs. We are people after all, and those terms do describe a lot of us (like it or not). I am not aware of any outcry from other religions that their rites and ceremonies were too sacred to be depicted, and if (and only if) they don't mind, I am ok with Hollywood doing what it does. Therefore, I have to concede that in a world where little is sacred and there has been no outcry over what it has done in the past, I do not condemn the producers of Big Love for not understanding what sacred even means. It's really quite possible it's never come up before this show.

However, the second church leaders informed them of the sacred nature of these ceremonies and their importance to the members of the church worldwide, they should have stopped out of respect for religious leaders. I may not be Catholic, but as my mother and I recently discussed, upon meeting the Pope I would give him all due reverence and respect--even though he is not my religious leader I understand that he is to many people I love and respect. If any other religion asked a show not to depict their rites in the show, I would support them wholeheartedly and join their cause. In fact, if I were to find out that my Catholic or Jewish friends were offended by a show built around mocking and misrepresenting their beliefs, I would stop watching it simply out of respect for them. That's not just lip service, I'm a big believer in justice for all. That's where my anger and offense comes from, not that the producers of Big Love would think nothing of showing a temple ceremony in the first place, but that they would fly in the face of a world religious leader, and 12 million people worldwide asking them not to and show it anyway. I don't think they would show that kind of disrespect to other world religions, if only to not risk alienating that large a chunk of the viewing public. Further, the fact that when the show first started they promised the church not to show these things, but after all this Prop 8 kerfuffle with Tom Hanks, it seems the producers are taking off the gloves and taking pot shots at a world religion. Classy, really, guys. It looks like you're being sore losers with the timing of all of this. Losers being the operative word.
So, considering my new found understanding of Hollywood's lack of understanding, I was finally able to craft a response that I believe took into accounts all sides and properly channeled my anger to the disrespect they have shown, and not the lack of judgement they may not have realized they were showing initially.
You can read my email here if you would like. If you want to send your own, Snarky has posted the link at the end of her post!


Dear HBO,
I must admit I am surprised and saddened by your decision to depict an LDS temple ceremony in your show Big Love. Although you may not have realized this to be offensive when the idea came forth (after all, so little in this world or any religion is truly considered sacred anymore so I understand the confusion), surely, once you were informed by church leadership that this was discouraged, you should have stopped in your plans immediately. To me, it is a matter of respect to the religions of the world an those that practice them to respect the members wishes. If the Catholic church were to ask you not to show a sacred rite on the show, I would hope you would show them the same courtesy and fight for their dignity--as well as any other religion out there, Christian or otherwise. It speaks volumes of your producers and network that you would mistreat any religious leaders and show such disregard for their wishes. In this diverse world, I do not believe there is ever a valid reason for intentional offense of others. There is certainly enough unintentional offense to go around, and no reason to add to the anger, intolerance, and misunderstanding in the world. This is obviously a very sacred rite for the members of the LDS church and close to our hearts, please refrain from vindictiveness and disrespect. It is especially suspect that the decision to air this ritual it seems to come specifically on the heels of ill-informed and rude comments on the part of one of your producers (Tom Hanks) and truly seems to be used as a way to "punish" those who do not share your producers political views by exposing what LDS people hold most sacred. If that is indeed the case (and of course, only you would know) I am even more saddened by the juvenile use of retribution and intolerance.
Please do not show this ceremony and illustrate to the world that there is still respect for the sacred in the entertainment industry.
Thank you!

Good Mood, go figure!

Okay, I can see people like me better when I'm back to my crotchety and political self...
Point taken, everybody. I was going to come back swinging at some political notion I am completely and totally irate over, but--and no one was as shocked by this as me, trust me--I am in way too good of a mood, and can't think of anything to complain about. Don't get me wrong, my morning has been a total mess, I need to go to the grocery store but am still in my workout clothes--even though my workout got cut short--and I just discovered that my daughter has learned not only how to get around my carefully placed obstacles and fill her lap (and my family room) with every DVD we own (this morning), but she also learned how to actually pick up and dump out her toy bins one by one (about 5 minutes ago, I'm now sitting in a room that looks like a tornado blew through it). And I was afraid she would figure out a new way to make a huge mess in another few days...not only a few hours. Silly mommy, tricks are for Sam.
Anyway, the disturbing truth is, that despite all these fun and messy adventures--despite actually watching the news the other day, and finally, despite the scale going up another pound today completely flying in the face of a week of careful calorie counting and intense workouts--I am in a bizzarely calm and happy mood. Case in point: I'm watching the mess build in amusement, instead of going nuts and trying to stop the bin-dumping.
Why am I so zen today? Because I am uber-excited about something, and it seems like the closer it gets, the more my happy side wins out.
What am I waiting for?
In less than two weeks, we are going to Disneyland! Well, Daniel and I are, Sam is going to be staying behind with some very wonderful friends to allow us to travel to all the rides we want without breaking for a nap or diaper change every other ride. Daniel's mom is actually paying for the trip, because we offered to take his twin brothers (who are graduating from high school and get a trip as a gift) as long as she agreed to come too instead of stay behind as she usually does. I am so excited, not just because I love Disneyland so very much, but because this will be the twins first trip, and I can't wait to introduce them to the Happiest Place on Earth. I can't wait to introduce Sam either, when she's old enough to go on some rides and enjoy it for what it is--but that will have to wait a couple of years.
In fact, I haven't exactly waited to introduce the boys to the Disney magic, as every day, starting a month before our departure, I send them an email with pictures and a description of a particular ride, or show. That's how excited I am, really, it's nuts.
So, since I am in too good a mood to complain, and all I can think about is the House of Mouse, I'll steal a little from my daily email to the boys and post my favorite top 10 tricks to enjoy Disneyland, in case any one else has a trip planned any time soon. Keep in mind, these are aimed at teenagers and adults, but anyone can enjoy them.

10. Appreciate the little things--Disneyland is the cleanest theme park I've ever been to, and they work hard to keep you safe and entertained even when you're waiting in line. Appreciate the authentic props, the friendly cast members that all have tucked in shirts, the full sets of teeth on the ride operators. Seriously, you won't see that anywhere else!
9. Know they're here to make money, and they've been perfecting it for over 50 years. Everything in the park is expensive, that's how Disney does it. Just accept that and move on. You can spend the entire trip gagging on the price tags of everything, or you can be prepared for it, and just not buy stuff that's not worth the extra money. Don't spend your stay being shocked and appalled, you're only sucking the fun out of it for yourself (and anyone stuck traveling with or shopping in your earshot). No one will force you to buy a souveniur at 100% markup, I promise, so be shocked once and get over it.
8. Use the Photopass people! These people are pros stationed at the best picture spots in the park and they are armed with cameras to take portraits you can buy later. What most people don't realize is, they don't have to just take pictures with their camera and charge you an arm and leg at the end of the day, they will gladly take a picture with your camera so everyone can be in the shot. Not to mention, since they do this all day, they are really great at framing the shot to get both you and the attraction you want in the picture! Much better than some wee little shapes in front of the towering, but cut off, Matterhorn mountain. I still recommend letting them take some with the pro camera too, they'll fill a card with pictures all day for free and you can buy them for up to a month after your trip, sometimes a nice large picture of all of you taken by a pro is the best souvenir. If you don't buy any, no harm no foul, but you can still show the online pictures to your friends for free.
7. Despite #9, you just have to splurge sometimes, especially on classic theme park treats. Disneyland is known for it's awesome churros, and if I don't have a frozen banana in the park every day, it's like I didn't even go to Disneyland at all. Decide what you like and want--maybe it's Mickey mouse shaped ice cream pops, or popcorn from a cart (all the carts have different "characters" turning the popcorn, depending on the land they're in, by the way) and just go for it. Life is too short not to buy a 4 dollar churro or overpriced cookie--once in a while. It's not like you're there all that often (if you are there every weekend, this clearly doesn't apply). Not into the edible stuff? That's fine (odd, but fine)--buy a fiber optic light to wave at Fantasmic, or a classic Mickey balloon. Just enjoy a few hours or moments of pleasure, everything doesn't have to be a permanent investment. I just have two totally awesome words to add here to the non-food loving weirdos: Dole Whip. Only available at the juice bar outside the Tiki Room, and flat out fabulous! Picture an ice cream float with fresh pineapple juice and pineapple ice cream...mmmm. Still anti-food? You are nuts.
6. Package pick up. If you do buy something non-edible, you don't want to carry it around all day and risk breaking it on the rides, so use package pick up. Pay for your purchase at the store, and a few hours later, it will be waiting at the newstand by the front gate for you to pick it up on your way back to your hotel. This is awesome, and it's free, so no more cramming into stores 15 minutes before closing with all the other suckers who didn't want to shop and carry it around all day. This is win-win.
5. Don't be ashamed to buy or wear Mickey Mouse ears. It's okay, at some point in every life, everybody does it. They make endless variations of the classic ears, even mickey ears with graduation caps (seems appropriate for the twins) and it's totally okay if you want to get your names sewn on the back and wear them around the park. We've all done it, and you'll see people from all walks of life doing it too. I'm not ashamed of my pink Minnie ears that represent my childhood--I'd wear them with pride if my head was still that small.
4. Especially for teens and adults: It's the land of the mouse, so embrace the cheese! Yes, we are all old enough to know that its not "really" Mickey Mouse sweating in that giant head, but if you want to wait in line to get a picture with a character, that's okay. I've had a bad experience with Goofy, so I'll stay a few feet away from anyone whose face I can't actually see, but you are never too old to want your picture with someone you loved as a kid, and we won't mock you and it's not "doing the park wrong" if you want a break from the rides to enjoy the characters, or shows, or stories. Besides, one of my favorite memories of going to the park after High School is when Daniel fell into the clutches of Princess Atta (yep, the giant ant) who wouldn't let him go until she gave him a kiss. I don't think I've ever laughed so hard in my life as I did seeing Daniel looking beyond mortified to be kissing a giant plastic head. I'll never forget it.
3. Along those lines, Disneyland is so much more than rides. If you are only in it for the rides, you may feel ripped by evening that you waited in line all day for brief moments of awesomeness. Watch the street performers that are everywhere, look for hidden Mickeys, talk to your family while waiting. Watch little kids waiting in line to meet a character, if they're either peeing their pants with excitement or screaming their heads off in terror, it's hilarious. Don't just run from ride to ride--walk, look around, and you are sure to see something fun.
2. Use the railroad. It has four stops and goes around the outside of the park. Further, a train hits each station every 10-15 minutes. This is the best way to get from Main Street to Toontown without fighting crowds or being hard on your feet--trust me, they'll take enough unavoidable abuse. I love the train! Plus, if you ride it between Tomorrowland and Main Street, you visit "the primordial world" which is awesome for it's campiness and vintage creepiness. Who doesn't want to do that?
1. Be willing to try new things, and enjoy the ride (no pun intended). Don't chalk anything off as "too little kid." Disneyland is the place to be young at heart. You may be surprised that some of the quieter rides become favorites. Maybe you'll go crazy for Dumbo, you'll never know until you try! Just have fun, be open-minded, and you'll discover things you never expected to love. I had to be talked into all my favorite rides at some point, and I'm so glad I went on them after all! It's fun to be a kid when you're tired of being adult. Try new rides, new foods, new experiences--you may fall in love with Gumbo as well as Dumbo! If you let Disneyland be the Happiest Place on Earth, it just might live up to it's slogan!

There you have it people. If that drove you crazy, stick around, surely, I'll be cheesed off again soon and back to the grizzled and angry writer you've been missing, but for now, I'm in Fantasyland.

Them's Fightin' Words!!!

You know those days you are going along, minding your own, happy as a clam and then out of nowhere, you hear something. Could be from a spouse, child (usually), or even just from a friend, but all of a sudden--yep sure enough, here comes a tizzy, and I'm about to be worked up into it!!! Oh, no! Instantly frustrated.
Whether we admit it or not, I'm convinced everybody has instant triggers, or fighting words, virtually guaranteed to impact your mood, even if only briefly. These are the phrases or comments that you hear so often, or in such a way, that they go straight for the jugular. You swear they only exist to annoy you. The trick to these things is that they are so superficially innocent, the people that say them may not even realize they are grating your mood like a cheese grater, but it bugs you nonetheless. I am not talking about things that are meant to be hurtful ("Gee, you've gotten fat!") but just ordinary phrases that people say every day and 99 people out of 100 might hear them and think nothing of it (or even use them), but to you, AUGH! Have you ever accidentally mixed up Bruce Wayne and Bruce Banner in front of a comic book fan--I'm convinced there is still a guy out in the Universe lecturing me on that one, I've never regretted a mistake so much, if only because the consequenses were so long and boring. I clearly touched a nerve. Lately, I've taken this theory to the road to find out if it pans out, and sure enough, when people actually think about it, they usually can come up with something that drives them crazy in two seconds or less.
It's harder than you think, because you may not realize that is what triggers the bad mood until you really analyze it--what do you know, I am always crabby on days my kid asks why we're not having pancakes for breakfast, I just thought it was them being extra annoying that day! There's no right or wrong to this, you may be completely rational by your triggers, or you may be way off in left field, but the point is, as long as you don't actually throw anything or act on it, it is okay to feel that way from time to time. Maybe you don't realize how deep it goes in your psyche, someone is innocently making conversation, and you assume it's a slight to your cleaning skills because deep down, you know you're not a clean person (see below).
Admitting it is the first step, so here are some examples to help you get thinking about what drives you into a tizzy. It may even make you a better parent/coworker/friend to realize that sometimes, it truly isn't them, it's you. Dang it.

In the name of fairness, I'll go first. Every single time I tell Daniel about a major mess in the house, he always asks "Did you clean it up?" AUGH! Drives me up the wall! I just want to say (and sometimes do, because he loves me for who I am) "No. I put a velvet rope around it and am charging two bits a gander." Seriously, never once in our marriage has he come home to a mess I knew about and just left there. Ever. I always want to blame him when I'm in a bad mood after that, but deep down, I know it's the way I automatically react to his automatic response. He's just talking out loud, and I can't help but take the bait as if it's a personal insult to my cleaning ability. Instant frustration. Now it's become so common at our house it's turned into a running comedy bit, where I try to fire back with new and clever things to tell him I did with the mess other than clean it up, and he knows I did really clean it up, like any sane person would.

One man's instant trigger is when his wife is going to try on clothes and says, "Watch my purse!" Innocent enough, right? Not to him. This drives him crazy because they've been married over 30 years and "does she really think that if she doesn't say that, I will stand there and watch some guy run off with her purse? I would never just do that, she doesn't have to remind me not to let someone steal our credit cards. " He says he always has her back and she doesn't need to ask or remind him to take care of her. I had never thought about asking someone to watch your purse rather than assuming they are at your beck and call as rude, but to him, them's fightin' words. His frustration comes from a sweet place, he wants his wife to always trust him, but in the meantime, she's driving him nuts.

A mother of teenagers says her instant trigger is "Whatever." In all it's forms. Enough said--who doesn't understand how that can sound like a total blow off?

I've heard several people mention they hate when the kids ask "Why can't we have that/buy that/do that?" They know the kids aren't doing it on purpose, but hate the fact that their tough financial situation is being brought to mind by someone who thinks a dollar is a fortune. Like it's not bad enough to feel broke, they have to explain to their kids that they can't afford something...even though the kids don't really care what that means, and need to learn that they can't have everything, it's good for them, etc, etc, they still find it irritating or embarrassing.

A final example. One wife gets a little nuts when her husband opens up the cupboards full of groceries and says "There's nothing to eat..." Okay, I'm totally guilty of that one, but as the grocery shopper in the house, I feel entitled to whine, since I'm not critiquing anyone else. I completely understand the feeling of frustration when she carefully shops, sticks to a budget, and provides food for her family, only to be told that there's "nothing" in there. It is truly a mark of her infinite patience that she hasn't once yelled "If there's nothing you like in there, here's the car keys, head to the store! Oh, and by the way, we've maxed out our grocery budget for the month, so whatever you buy better be free...and you're taking all the kids with you!!!" Seriously, she's a saint not to snap back.

So, now that you've seen what I mean, think about it yourself! If you want, add a comment and let us know we're not alone! It will make you feel less crazy to explain what makes you crazy! You can even change names to protect the frustrating--"I really hate it when my...dog...comes home from work late and asks what time dinner is."
Darn dog, even though we know he doesn't mean it. We hear you, and we get it, even if we don't actually feel that way ourselves.