Tuesday, November 18, 2008

The plane! The plane!

There are two kinds of airline passengers in this world. People who are flying with kids and everyone else who hates them.

Of course, I am not saying I don't understand the haters. Trust me. I've flown plenty and I've had more than one flight where I gritted my teeth, turned up my headset and counted the minutes until we landed. But still. I never thought kids shouldn't be allowed on planes.

I heard this sentiment today on facebook and everyone was up in arms one way or the other. And interestingly, I've heard this before from other friends...who don't have kids. As someone who has one, it's hard not to get all prickly about it.

Here's why.....I literally do everything in my power to ensure that A. has a good flight. I book our flights around her naptime. She's got ample milk, snacks, water, crayons, books, stuffed animals...we even try to fly Jet Blue so she's got television.
And I can say that about 90 percent of the time, she does just great. Lots of people to flirt with on planes so she's happy. 90 percent of the time, people tell me how good she was. I'm usually sweating and covered with sour milk and Cheddar Bunny crumbs at that point but I always say "thanks."

But then of course, there is that 10 percent. Oh, the ugly 10 percent.

Trust me, we're working hard to make sure she isn't screaming, kicking the chair in front of her, climbing all over the ground or smacking the tush of a flight attendant (which she did on a really small plane once....eek....).

However, I don't think it's worth keeping her off planes altogether because every once in a while, she utters a peep. She deserves to see her relatives who live in other parts of the country. And quite frankly, I've sat near much worse fliers who were a whole lot older. Like the itchy man who scratched (psoriasis?) all the way to Vancouver. Or the exceptionally smelly teenager who made things worse by opening up a bag of Corn Nuts (are you kidding me?) and then Doritos. Or the super loud talkers who should at least have had the decency to be interesting.

You see? I don't think those people shouldn't be allowed to fly. Even though they made my flights less than pleasant.

Until someone comes up with an airline designed just for kids, we're all just going to have to find a way to get along. In the meantime, if kids really bother you so much...maybe YOU SHOULDN'T FLY TO FLORIDA IN THE HOLIDAY SEASON. Or spring break. Or possibly, ever. Because grandparents live in Florida and so technically, all flights to and from Florida are the Grandparents Express. Which means you are actually on the kids' turf, not the other way around. Although they are usually kind enough not to complain about your presence.

That said, I apologize in advance to anyone flying with me to Florida this Saturday. A's naptime changed since I booked the flight. Best to take those headsets they'll be offering you.

Oh dear....this isn't good Bachelor news...


Thursday, November 13, 2008

Oh, you have got to be kidding me...

Deanna the Bachelorette has gone Hollywood. Pulease. She is hosting her own show for brides! Unreal, she has to be the most awkward person on television ever. And all that blinking, ugh. Read this link:


Tuesday, November 11, 2008

An afternoon at the germ box

So we're a little obsessed with germs in our house. I think it all started because A. was premature; the doctor got us all worried about RSV and all the terrible things that could happen.

But now A. is two and we still are. We take off our shoes when we walk in. We purell. We Clorox wipe.

Yes, we are those people. The ones I once mocked before I became a parent.

Not that it helps....A. got the stomach flu 4 times last year and too many cold to count. This fall, she's had stomach flu once and two back-to-back colds. So at a certain point, you have to ask yourself if any of your germ prevention is making a bit of difference.

So this weekend, I took a major step. I let A. go into the sandbox. Now if you're a germ freak, this place is like your worst nightmare. I mean, animals poop in there....at least this is what my mother used to tell me when I was a kid. She said it was a like "a litter box for stray cats." Hmmmm. Come to think of it, maybe I inherited this germ phobia.

What did I learn about the sand box? For once thing, A. spent most of the time trying to make it neater. She kept trying to tidy up the sand on the edges of it. She had no interest in actually building things. She also didn't appreciate her hands getting dirty. When she got out, she not only wiped her hands but started trying to wipe down her sneakers too. The germ freak in me nearly burst with pride.

I also learned that parents put their kids in the sandbox so that they can talk amongst themselves. Three hipster dads were next to me chatting with each other as they all tried to defend why they named their sons Jack, the most popular boys' name in our neighborhood and quite possibly the planet. One said "well, we named him after Jackie Robinson." Okay, so why don't you call him Jackie? Dad #2 said, "well, our last name is Lapin which means rabbit, so his name is Jack Rabbit." Oh, you're so cool, dude. The third guy just said yeah a lot so I assume he named him that because he thought it was original. They all stood around in their ironic t-shirts and baseball caps as their sons tried to knock A. over. Yet another reason to hate the sand box.

The good news is, the germ box appears not to have gotten A. sick (yet). Just sandy. We're still finding sand everywhere....all over the bottles of Purell, Clorox wipes and even the giant plastic bubble we keep normally keep her in.

"No sand" A. said to me. I couldn't agree more.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Peace, man.

I'm not sure when we taught A. to say that but for some reason, it has really stuck with her. She even knows how to make the peace symbol with her fingers.

Oddly enough, she's been saying it unprompted lately. That and sighing deeply and dramatically. And wanting us to do the same. Is this her way of telling us we need to relax?

Which of course, we need to do....even when things couldn't be more stressful. Personally and globally. The election has been a constant obsession and while I love it...it's been really stressing me out, too.

So today when I went to the voting booth, I was surprised I didn't feel nervous like I thought I would. Everyone in my neighborhood was pleasant and smiling, even as we stood in crazy lines. And when I made my selection at the voting booth (gotta love the old-fashioned kind...so satisfying to pull the red lever)...I finally felt at peace.

Now, I can't say I will feel that way tonight watching the returns come in. But for the moment, I am calm. I believe in my heart that everyone will make the right choice. And for the next few hours...before all the pundits start making me doubt....I am determined to hold onto this feeling.

Peace, man. Deep breath.

Monday, November 3, 2008

The curse of the Bachelor/Bachelorette continues....

no more Deanna and Jesse. Here is the video of Jesse announcing the break-up:


In case you need a break from the 24/7 election coverage...which I do, despite being obsessed...