M-I-C (See you real soon! ) K-E-Y (Why? Because we like you!)

We made it back. All in one piece. Oh, you didn't know we were gone? Disney World! I have to say, it was a really great Disney adventure, and I was truly sorry to come back. I think that Disney is one of those places where you either go as a stick-in-the mud "I hate this bullshit" attitude or you just suck it up and drink the Kool Aid. And you all remember the family motto. I sucked it up. I drank that Kool Aid and I asked for seconds!

I'm truly tired and don't think I can blog everything at this moment, so I'll hopefully add more later, but it was an excellent trip. But a few of the highlights, which may be repeats for those who are Facebook friends:

--The trip started a little ominously when we checked in at home for our JetBlue flight and then brought our bags to drop off. Now, we usually fly American. We're used to this drill. With American we usually drop our bags at curbside or head to a kiosk. JetBlue? Not so much. The line for bag drop stretched longer than the hour and ten minutes we had till our flight. In a panic, we decided to take our bags on the flight. Only of course we had packed all our toiletries and TSA decided to be sticklers on the gels over 3.5 ounces or whatever the ridiculous rule is. Out went Adam's hair gel, out went my shampoo, out went my $40 face cleaner (that sounds much better if you read it to the tune of "Rock Island" from Music Man. Here, I'll even give you the next line: Look whatayatalk. whatayatalk, whatayatalk, whatayataalk, whatayatalk?). And then, of course, the TVs on the flight weren't working. Fun times!

--Our family was following the certified, patent-pending Goldfarb System®. I don't want to give too much of the system away, but it is a fool-proof method for doing the Disney parks in the most efficient and line-preventing way. I will testify that the Goldfarb System® works. But... only if you follow it to the T. The first day I got cocky. I thought I could figure out a few shortcuts to the Goldfarb System®. But I was wrong. And I paid in a big way, with a screaming daughter and a son who waited in line for thirty minutes for the Astro Orbiter. The next day I followed the plan to the letter and had an immensely successful day. Day three, we had the system perfected to the point where my son had a mere five minute wait for Toy Story Mania, got to ride Star Tours... twice, and still got to have another go at the Buzz Lightyear ride. Yes, the system is that good.

--We had characters up the wazoo. First Pie met Cinderella, Belle, and Aurora in Toon Town. Then we had breakfast with Cinderella, Belle, Aurora, Ariel, and Snow White. Then another breakfast with JoJo, Goliath (from JoJo's Circus) and Leo and June (from Little Einsteins). Then dinner with Chip and Dale, Mickey and Pluto. Plus we ran into Goofy, Daisy, Donald Duck, and Minnie around the parks. We also caught glimpses of a whole bunch others. But that girl of mine, she can hold a grudge. Our final dinner, at the Garden Grille in The Land, Dale, Mickey, and Pluto came to our table. But not Chip. "When is Chip coming? I want to see Chip!" She would not be put off. "There's Chip! Why isn't he coming to see us?" Finally we left without Chip. She shook hands with Pluto, flirted with Mickey, had her picture taken with Dale. So I asked, "How did you like dinner?" "It was awful!" she told me. "Chip never came to see us."

--Most exciting thing for girl? When Belle noticed that her skirt had "Beast print" on it. (Why more about the girl than the boy? Because for much of the trip we split up and I spent most of my time with the girl)

--New form of torture? My mother and daughter singing "It's a Small World" over and over and over and over... and over and over and over... (deep breath) and over and over and over. And then not understanding why I wanted them to stop.

--The Wishes fireworks display was only a mild hit. I let Pie stay up late to watch it; Doodles decided to pass. We went with the Nana to watch the display over Cinderella's castle. Pie seemed to be into it, but later informed us, "I didn't like it. The booms made my teeth shake."

--At the princess breakfast, you walk in and the first thing that happens is a picture with Belle that the family gets a copy of by the end of breakfast.
Me: I want a family picture with Belle.
Pie: I want to stand between Mommy and Belle!
Doodles: I want to stand between Daddy and the wall.

I'm sure I'll have more to say later. Or maybe I won't. That's the way these blogs fly. Now I gotta go have another swig of Kool Aid. Mmm, that's good!

1973, Disney World (which only consisted of the Magic Kingdom) is 2, the boy (my cousin) is 5, I'm weeks away from 5, my first trip


2010, Disney World is 39, The boy is 6, the girl is 4, their first trip

The boy definitely had fun. Maybe too much fun. He's absolutely walking funny and it occurs to us it's been hours since he peed. Oops...

Long Day

In a Pumpkin Coach

In the old days I couldn't make the tea cups at Disney spin fast enough. Now one ride on the Cuckoo Clockenspiel and am ready to puke. Aging at its ugliest.

Doodles said on the Twirling Turtles--as we're whipped around at top speed and his friend exclaims, "My stomach is all the way in my chest!"-- "I don't know how Dad can not like this!" Um, I might have an idea.

The Italian sausage and ice cream with sausages just after the Twirling Turtles and right before the Teacups may have been a mistake. Just sayin'.

Not Everyone Loves a Circus

Spotty service is foiling my posting plans. Doodles has two friends here, both girls, and they're fighting over who gets to sit next to him. Hope he doesn't get used to it. I took the kids on the Krazy Barn. Now I'm Krazy Nauseous. Ready to watch the freaky cats at the Hannaford Circus. Do you wish you were me?

Nothing like mediocre coffee in the morning to pump you up. Yea, Glen Junction breakfast! Or, as Adam says, it would be better called Ultimatum Point because every second sentence uttered is, "If you don't X, then no Storyland!" Children fortified with chocolate chip pancakes. Time to hit the park!

So normally I'd post all my brilliant and oh-so witty (let me have my delusions--at least until I get some coffee) comments on Twitter, but apparently I can now text posts to Blogger so I thought I'd give you guys minute by minute (sort of) updates of our exciting adventures in Storyland. Of course, you may not hear anything for a bit because the other family we're with isn't moving very fast. I just have to remind myself, not everyone can be a Brown. Although a girl can dream...

Pie B'Israel

And Pie? What about Pie on this trip? Let me tell you what we've learned about Pie:

--Her legs break easily. But they heal quickly when ice cream is involved.
--She (along with her brother) have discovered that, yes, chocolate pudding does actually qualify as a breakfast food in Israel, and have availed herself of one daily.
--She can fall asleep anytime, anyplace, as long as it's not in a bed and it will cause physical pain and general inconvenience to those around her. Otherwise, she's wide awake and she wants to eat. Now. No right now. NOW!
--If you give her 20 shekels to Pie and 20 shekels to Doodles for ice cream to spend while they're off with the other kids and the counselors, Doodles will come immediately back and hand you 11 shekels in change. Pie on the other hand will come back with a wad of chewing gum in her mouth (which the youth counselor said she bought and announced, "I'm going to share it with my family," but when this family member requested a piece, she shook her head vehemently and chewed harder) and ice cream on her face, and yet, when you ask for the change back, she'll stick her hand in her pocket, rattle around a couple of coins, and say, "I can't find it." When you stick your hand in your pocket and retrieve the coins, she says, "Oh, there it is," and giggles.
--She thinks the Kotel is "cool."
--The girl can find a phone. Anywhere. No, seriously. Anywhere.
--No, she doesn't need the potty. Yes, she's sure. Don't you get it? She doesn't need the potty!! Until five minutes later. When she needs the potty right now because she has to go really badly!
--She likes teenagers. Oh, does she like teenagers. Especially the girl kind who fawn over her and do her hair.

Reality is going to be a bitch for this little one. We're about to hit a "no pudding, no shekels, no ice cream twice a day" zone. It's going to be a rough re-entry folks. Hold on tight.

Does Your T-Rex Wear a Kippah?

We ended up one of our days in a mall in Tel Aviv for lunch, primarily, I believe, because it's one of the few locations in Israel with a kosher McDonald's, which is apparently a big deal if you keep kosher, which we clearly do not. My son, the adventurous eater that he is, decided on Sbarro's pizza. In Israel, Sbarro's pizza comes with a kid's prize. Doodles chose dinosaur eggs that will hatch in water, which caused much discussion.

Adam: When the eggs hatch, what kind of dinosaur do you think it'll be?
Doodles: I hope it's a plant eater because if it's a meat eater I'd have to kill something to feed it meat, and I don't know how to do that because I'm not a solider.

He then posed the same question to his youth counselor. His young, sweet Israeli youth counselor. His young, sweet, Israeli, do I need to add Orthodox? youth counselor.
Counselor: It might be a plant eater or it could eat both plants and meat so if it can't find any meat, it could eat plants. What kind of meat would you feed it?
Doodles: Well, bacon is meat. I can feed it bacon.

To which she had no response.

That boy of mine. Always knows just the right thing to say.

Be Careful What You Pray For...

We have made it to Jerusalem. The final leg of our trip. And we are doing all the things one would expect to do in Jerusalem and a few you wouldn't. Placed notes in the Kotel. Explored the City of David. Shopped. Sifted dirt in search of antiquities at an archaeological site. Visited Yad Vashem (for the adults; the kids went to the Museum of Science). Visited a family of Ethiopian Jews in their home. And we went on a tour of the tunnels of the Kotel.

And, this, my friends, is where we get into trouble. Because in the Kotel tunnels, the kids who are awake (note: this means Pie was not in that group, as she was fast asleep in Adam's, then my, then Adam's, then my arms--hey, she's dead weight when she's asleep. It's hard to hold her for very long) went with the youth counselors while we grown-ups explored. Which was all fine and dandy until Doodles got to the place closest to the Holy of Holies. As the name implies, it's the holiest spot in Judaism, but it's somewhere under where the Dome of the Rock is, so Jews have no access to it today. The spot in the tunnels is the closest you can get to it and many people come to this spot to pray.

(For those who don't know what that is, without going into too much religious history here, once upon a time, there were was a temple in the heart of Jerusalem (twice: first Solomon's Temple and then the Second Temple. If you've seen Raiders of the Lost Ark, you know that in the heart of the first temple was the Ark of the Covenant. It is the most sacred spot and by going through the tunnels, you pass the place it would have been).

When the grown-ups reached the spot, we all took a moment to close our eyes and make a personal prayer. But not the kids. As was reported to me by more than one person with the children, when they reached the spots, the youth counselors asked the kids what they'd like to pray for. They were reminded that they should think of greater things than "lots of ice cream" or "a new toy." Apparently, my son immediately said, "Oh, I know what to ask for!"

"What?" the youth counselor asked.

"I want my mommy to have another baby. I want my mommy to have a new baby every day!"

And my friends, this will be the ultimate test of religion and modern science: God versus Bayer Pharmaceuticals. Care to place any bets?

The Scariest Thing I've Ever Done...

Did you know that on Israeli Blogger, the username and password go from left to right? And they're in Hebrew. But I digress. This post is clearly about the scariest thing I've ever done. And I've done a lot of stupid things. But the clear winner here is...

I let my 5 year old rappel down a cliff. Yes, that's right. The materials were very clear: "Children age 9 and older and adults may rappel." But this is Israel. And the rules don't matter. And the guide said, "If he's not afraid, he can go! I took down a 3 year old once." And the boy was not afraid (thankfully, the girl was, because I couldn't have handled that one).

"Rappel! Rappel! Rappel! Rappel!" he chanted all the way there (he's the one in the red shirt on the right below). Halfway down, Adam had to give him a little hand because he didn't want to let go of the rope, but he made it down, and while he thought it was a bit scary, he doesn't seem to be harmed.

We've also: hiked in Mahktesh Ramon, eaten in a Bedouin tent, rode a llama (Pie), saw ibexes in the middle of the street on a run (Jenny), visited and lunched at the home of a Moroccan Jew, floated in the Dead Sea, had spa treatments (Adam and Jenny), saw camels, watched Strawberry Shortcake in Hebrew (Pie and Doodles), not slept much, ate way too much, and have generally had a very good time. Yes, there's more to tell. But the Internet connection is costly and I'm on a borrowed computer. So tomorrow, off to Massada and Ein Gedi and then Sfat. Lilah tov!

Waiting Waiting Waiting

On the flight to NYC:
Doodles: What's this?
He's holding up the airsickness bag.
Me: Some people get sick on planes. That's for if someone has to throw up.
Doodles peers in.
Doodles: But, Mom, there's no throw up in here!

And now we're sitting at JFK waiting to go through security again to board. We got here at about 3:30 and we leave at 10:10. Pie had the sleepiest eyes I've ever seen. Doodles is... Well, remember the song "Matchmaker, Matchmaker"? "You think you'll get the rabbi's son?" "Well why not? We only have one rabbi and he only has one son!" "Why not? I'll tell you why not!"

Well the why not is because the rabbi's son is sharing a seat with my son... cosied up... watching "Angelina Ballerina" together.

Five minutes to boarding. Thirteen hours to Tel Aviv. Fifteen hours till I order my first Israeli beer.

Lehitriot.

Hanging at JFK

Good Enough

I had these visions. I'd write up a series of interesting, witty, and thought-provoking posts and schedule them to appear while I was gone. I was going to whip up fresh cookies to have on the flight for the kids. I was going to clean completely, take out the trash, pack up boxes, and have things organized for the move when I got back. I was going to create beautiful travel journals for the kids to write in. I was going to find the perfect Israeli-themed book to take with me.

I did take out the trash.

And really that's good enough. I am making my kids some kick ass playlists for their lovely new-to-them iPods. How many of the other kids are going to have both SteveSongs and Beastie Boys on their playlists?

So we're off. I'll have my iPhone, but it'll have an Israeli SIM card, so it'll be cost prohibitive to just send photos and posts willy nilly, but whenever I can find wifi to log into, I'll be sure to send some photos and brief posts here.

Otherwise, I'll have a lot to say when we get back!

Happy trails to us!

Stressy Me

I'm contributing to the delinquency of a diva. The snow is piling up outside. Adam isn't feeling well, so he's napping. We've read books, shoveled in the snow (just for fun and we discovered the greatest snow fun there is--I pull sheets of ice off the picnic bench in the backyard and the kids jump on it to shatter it), had hot chocolate, wrote some thank you notes, kids played with Legos and painted and I cleaned, and we started packing. And it's only 3 p.m. I don't have the energy for an afternoon of Mickey Mouse Playhouse and Imagination Movers, so I've turned on Wedding Central and the kids are riveted. Pie's already chosen her cake: "It's going to be the biggest one in the world. It's going to have chocolate sticks with trees and a piggy. And it's going to be Pie and Jasmine." For what it's worth, I did try to show them both Land Before Time and Charlotte's Web but Pie freaked out at both of them, and Doodles finally said, "Can we just keep watching the wedding channel." Et tu, Doodles?

It's been a languorous weekend. Despite sounding like I got a lot done this morning, I've had this lazy haze about me. I'm feeling unusually stressed these days as there's a lot coming up. Two things are on the forefront of my mind:

The first is the house remodel. We've given our notice on the apartment--we're to be out by February 28--and things are supposedly in the fast-moving stage of the house. I'm not completely sure I believe it. We were stuck at a point where I couldn't see the changes--electrical work, plumbing work, waiting for inspections. But now we're moving. Insulation is in. The walls started going up on Friday. Plastering will be done this week. According to the contractor, we're about two weeks away from the hardwood floors going in (one of the final steps). According to the architect, we're supposed to be picking out paint colors. So we have about six weeks till we're out of here and in the house. Only, we're going to be gone for ten of those days, which means we get back from our trip, and will have just five days to get out of the apartment...

Which brings me to my second stress. Our trip. We're going to Israel. Yes, Israel. And I'm waffling big time on the trip. Everyone I know who's ever been to Israel tells me I'm being silly and it'll be fine. For starters, we're going nowhere near the Gaza. For second, we're going with a tour group (with our synagogue), so we'll be on a tour bus with security on the bus. They'll be constantly checking the security situation and revising our itinerary as needed. We won't be on any public transportation at all. The biggest issue is that we won't be allowed to do many of the things I really have enjoyed doing in the past (like shopping in the shuk. I'd been fantasizing about everything I was going to buy for our new home, but that's totally out at this point). We leave in about four weeks. And four weeks in Middle East terms can really be a lifetime. For the first time ever, we bought travel insurance, which means up to 24 hours in advance of the trip, we can cancel and still get 75% of our money back. But I really don't want to cancel. Adam's never been and I'm anxious for him to see it. Israel is such an amazing country (I've been three times already, including a six-month stay on a kibbutz). But--and this is not an invitation for anyone get to political with me; I don't do politics here--I'm feeling vaguely terrified. How do I decide whether or not to go? (And yes, it's "me." Adam really isn't worried at all, he's said, and he's looking forward to the trip, as is the rest of our group.) I'm literally waking up in the middle of the night worried about taking my kids into a war zone. Yet every time a trip to Israel has been postponed (my sister missed out a trip in the '80s), it's been for naught. I am absolutely certain if I cancel the trip, I'll seriously regret it. I am confident that once we get to Israel, it will all be fine. But I can't stop my stomach from churning now.

So I'm trying to focus on other things. Like the marathon I have coming up in two weeks. And the craft projects I want to do as soon as we get into the house and I have easy access to my sewing machine. I'm officially addicted to craft blogs. And I'm thinking about organizing (starting with photos and ending with the kids' toys in the new house). And packing boxes (I'm storing them in Beetle's basement so there isn't a mad rush when we get back from Israel). And Pie's wedding. And the multitude of other minutiae that crop up.

And come March 1, I'll be a sane person again. Relatively speaking, of course.

Foggy Head

I have this evil cold that was given to me by my dear, darling children. Of course, they get a cold and keep running. I get a cold and I want to bury myself beneath a pile of blankets in my over-A.C.'d house, with a stack of magazines and a big bowl of chicken soup. So, because I don't have an original thought in my head right now, other than, "Nyquil! Now!" here's a little wrap for you of the past couple of weeks.

Our vacation: Did you know we went away? No, you didn't because I oh-so-cleverly scheduled a post for while we were gone, just to keep you entertained (wasn't that nice of me?). We took our third--and final (boo hoo!)--trip to the Wildflower Inn in Lyndonville, Vermont. It was as heavenly as ever and the kids loved going to "camp," Adam and I loved having alone time, and it was nice to escape computers and work and room parent assignments and all that other good stuff. This is only our last year because the program we go to is for babies, toddlers, and preschoolers. And we'll have but one preschooler next year.

The highlight for Pie was definitely her counselors. Oh, she found one who she fell in love with. Pie came back to the room on Tuesday afternoon.


Pie: I asked my counselor to paint my nails.
Me: What did she say?
Pie: She said, no. She said, ask your mommy.
Me: Does your mommy let you paint your nails?
Pie: No.
Me: When does Mommy say you can paint your nails?
Pie: When I'm three.
Me: And how old are you?
Pie: Two.
Me: Right, two. So no painting nails.

Of course, Miss Thang comes back very proudly from dinner, showing off bright purple-y nails.


Pie: Mommy, look!!
Me: What did Mommy say about painting your nails?
Pie: Mommy said no.
Me: And what did you tell your counselors?
Pie, with absolute innocent glee: I told them YES!

How could I get angry with that joy? We had a little to-do today when I went to paint her (toe)nails for the 4th of July. But I'm talking about the relaxation of vacation, so we'll just not go there now. And it was relaxing: swimming, kayaking, massage, dinner sans kids, hiking, hot tub, swimming, batting cages (for Adam and Doodles), goofing off on the tennis court (for me and Pie), drinking, and a general good time was had by all.

Boot camp: Ever done anything like say, oh, skiing, and there's some person who has the top-of-the-line everything--the professional goggles, the killer skiis, the aerodynamic skiing outfit--but is clearly a completely novice who doesn't know he should point his skis down the hill? That was me, today. Boot camp went on a bike ride and I still had all my gear from back when I biked almost seriously. Back when riding was something I spent entire weekend days on; when I rode to work, from work, and then tossed in an extra ride at the end of the day just for good measure; back when I had money to burn and a Bianchi road bike.

I still have all that stuff. But do I have the biking body that I did in 2002, which as far as I can tell, was the last time I was on a bike? Again, let's not go there. A friend was kind enough to do a tune-up for me on my hybrid (no way was I going with the clipless pedals of my road bike), but I showed up in my little biking shorts and my cute purple biking jersey. Thank goodness I left the fingerless gloves and groovy glasses at home. Because, man, are they wrong. You can totally forget how to ride a bike. "Wait, wait!" I kept asking. "I don't remember! The bigger gear for going up the hills? Or down?" It was humiliating. But fun. And who knows? Maybe I'll start biking again. Once I remember definitively what the big gear is for.

Movies: I've been working my way through the suggestions everyone gave me for flicks to watch (still open to more! Always welcome a good movie recommendation). But I want to give a particular shout-out to Lionness, because a movie she suggested, The Bubble, is one of the most thought-provoking movies I've ever seen.

My birthday: Adam outdid himself. I didn't think he could do it, but he did. Got me my own personalized bowling shirt. Had my sister come up to surprise me. Arranged for his brother to babysit. Rented a limo "happy bus." Stocked it with friends and beer and champagne. Took us all to Jamaica Plain for bowling and food and booze and cake at the Milky Way. And you know what? For once, I don't have a single snarky thing to say. It was perfect.

And with that, I'm off to find the Nyquil. Ah, happy Nyquil. How I missed you all those years. Welcome home.