Fun Fridays: Gone with the Wind Exhibit

Vivien Leigh wore this dress during the attack at Shantytown scene in Gone
with the Wind. It is featured in the exhibit Real to Reel: The Making of Gone with the Wind. Image from the N.C. Museum of History.

Frankly my dear . . . How can you not love this?! 

I have not gotten out there to see it yet, but I guarantee to you I will!  It is running through January 13th at the North Carolina Museum of History in Raleigh (which I interned at when I was in college, by the way!)

Tonight's Friday Feature:

Exhibit Reception: Real to Reel: The Making of Gone with the Wind
Friday, Sept. 21
7–10 p.m.
$50 ($40 members)
http://ncmuseumofhistory.org/film/index.html

Go check it out and have fun!

Happy Friday Everyone!

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Eating Bees . . . and other perils of Motherhood

A week after moving in, I decided to take a little break from opening boxes, signing up for utilities, and dealing with other new-home-ownership issues, and take the kids to our neighborhood pool.

First, I need to explain that this is no ordinary pool! It has a lap pool, a baby splash area, beach access kiddie area, deep end diving board area, and two amazing slides! It is gorgeously landscaped, and uses salt instead of chlorine. Needless to say this was a big selling point for moving here in the first place.

A downside to this pool is that it has a lot of bees. A few years ago it was yellow-jackets. This summer it is bees. 

Anyway, we had a great break, spent the latter half of the day splashing in the water and lounging in the sun. My mom even brought over root beer, ice, plastic cups, and snacks for us. Felt sort of like being in a resort. 

But don't ever let your guard down when you are a mom. By default, being a mom means you are usually doing 20 things simultaneously and have about 5% of your attention actually focused on any one of those things at any one time. (Did you follow my math there?)

We stayed til the pool closed. The process of corralling my children through any transition is never an easy one. I'm sure it has something to do with the number three. You get two together, the third has run off to find a missing floaty toy. You collect that one and now you've got a different set of two because the first one has run off when you weren't looking to check the lost and found for a "treasure." You get that one back to the fold and now the middle one has gone missing "just because."

At any rate, I spent about 20 minutes trying to coax Micky out of the pool while at the same time collecting the various towels, toys, flip-flops, snack leavings, extra clothes, and children. There was a tiny bit of root beer left in the bottom of my glass, so I decided to toss it back rather than throw it out into the trashcan . . . Mistake!

A rouge bee was waiting there, just for the right moment when I was not looking, when I was distracted, just tossing it back, to strike.

I felt the fuzzy bulk of the bee first, spat then looked down and the squirming yellow and black icky thing on cement pool deck. At about the same instant I realized I'd just spat out a bee, I began to feel the burn inside my mouth. I reach in my lower lip and pulled out the stinger (in my memory it was about 5 inches long, but I'm sure my memory is exaggerating) and thought "Crap! I've never been stung by a bee. I hope I'm not allergic!" At this point, two of the aforementioned kids seized their opportunity at my distraction and ran off in opposite directions.

I was now carrying an armload of wet towels, shoes, toys and clothes, while at the same time holding a piece of ice to my lip, silently praying I am NOT allergic, and mumbling loudly in my "serious" tone for my kids to "COME. ON. NOW!" so we could get home and I could get some antihistamine in my system. (And it also hurt like Hell and I was starting to get really irritable.)

Finally, I managed to get all three kids and all their gear back in the car and back to the house.  While I was busy applying more ice, taking a Benadryl, and breaking up a fight between my oldest two upstairs . . .

Micky decided to pee on the bathroom floor downstairs.

Eating a bee?  It's whatever.

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The Possum Chronicles

This weekend the kids and I picked up some road kill and buried it in the woods across from our house. 

Yep.  On Mother’s Day.

Month’s ago, Renton returned from a “Daddy Day” with a nearly pristine fox skull, ribs and leg bones that he had found stuck in a rock crevice while out walking in the woods.  Well, okay, they still had a little bit of “stuff” left on them.  But after Google-ing “Cleaning Animal Bones” we found this fantastic blog Jake’s Bones that explained how to use hydrogen peroxide to remove those last little “bits” and whiten up the bones.  I somewhat reluctantly went out to Target and bought about a dozen of the brown bottles, dumped them into a huge bucket and added the bones.  All three of the kids watched gleefully as the bubbles sizzled around the bones and the “bits” began to fall away.  I hung the bucket up on a peg in our garage and a week later out came the shimmering white fox bones.

Renton's Fox Bones

After gingerly gluing all the parts together, Renton quickly realized that he did not have a complete skeleton.  He was disappointed.  We searched the internet to see if we could find some suppliers and maybe buy a little animal skeleton that he could put together.  But it was not the same thing as finding the bones himself.  He wasn’t interested. 

One morning as we were speeding off to school, we passed a recently deceased squirrel in the middle of the road.  Renton pressed his face to the window as we skirted past it and let out a little squeal of delight.   “Mommy!  Stop!  Stop!  Can we get that squirrel?  Please?!  I want its bones!”

Oh boy. 

I promised Renton if it was still there when we came home that day, that we could go get a garbage bag and pick it up.  But when we drove past the spot of death that evening with the sun setting on our suburban lives, there was no trace of that little squirrel.  I explained to Renton that other animals or vultures may have taken it away.  He sat back against the seat and hung his head in genuine disappointment.  Emily tried to make him feel better by promising to go “dead animal hunting” with him that weekend, but it wasn’t the same.

I promised Renton that day to carry a heavy duty black garbage bag in my car in the event that we passed another dead animal on the road.  That we could jump out and grab it and take it to our back yard and let it decompose til it was ready for the hydrogen peroxide whitening bath.  And so for months we drove to school with the breaking of dawn and home again with the setting sun, passing only deer in all their generational and decomposing stages.  (Thankfully even Renton admitted they were too big for us to stuff in the garbage bag!) 

That was, until yesterday.  Mother’s Day.

Driving home from shoe shopping and pizza at Target, I noticed a huge vulture circling a piece of the road near the entrance to our housing development.  “Look Renton!  Look at the Vulture!”  I shouted, pointing up in the sky.  (Renton is also an avid bird lover.)  Of course, as soon as I said vulture, Renton was not looking up, but looking down because he KNEW there must be a dead animal near by.

“Mommy!!!!!!!!  STOP!!!!!!!”  He yelled.  “A POSSUM!!!!!” 

Renton's Possum in a previous life?

Time to cash in on that promise.  “Mommy, PLEASE!”

After circle two or three times to determine if it was even safe to stop, I scooted the car up to the rotting, soupy, exposed belly of the possum, flipped on my hazard lights, and hopped out of the car to grab the garbage back from the back of my car.

As I approached the decaying marsupial, I could hear the buzz of the flies.  But it wasn’t until, garbage bag flipped inside out as though I were casually picking up a piece of stray dog doo, I scooped the warm carcass into the bag that the stench hit my nostrils.  And I mean that – HIT.  I have smelled a lot of foul smells in my life (toddler feces and dog anal gland excretions among the top two), but I am here to tell you that rotting possum flesh is T. H. E.  W. O. R. S. T! 

I had to brace myself against dropping to my knees and puking my guts out right there in the middle of the turn lane.  I had a sudden image of smearing mentholatum under my nose like a CSI morgue technician and seriously wished I had a little blue bottle with me right then.

Renton’s excited little face was peering at me through the tinted back window.  I poked my head in through Micky’s rolled down window and not so diplomatically informed Renton, “Honey, there is NO WAY I’m putting this possum in our car.”

“PLEASE!”  he wailed pitifully.

“Renton, the only way this animal is getting back to our house, is if you get out and walk it home.”

I heard the click of seatbelts as all three kids excitedly piled out of the car to help “walk the possum home.”

And so they walked through the neighborhood, dragging the reeking bag behind them, as I followed slowly, hazard lights flashing, gag-reflex in overdrive as the breeze carried putrid reminders of the possum’s unfortunate end through my passenger side window. 
 

Emily and Renton with the Possum

It only took a few minutes for me to decide that there was now NO WAY that possum was going to spend even 5 seconds in our back yard.  I shouted out the window “Alright guys, you find a spot in the woods across from our house to burry that guy.  I’ll meet you there with the shovel.”  Renton beamed a proud smile at me, Emily gave me a thumbs up sign with one hand, holding the other over her nose and mouth, Micky just trailed behind happy to be a part of the adventure.

When I arrived at their spot a few minutes later, I was still wearing my t-shirt and shorts, but had donned my knee-high rubber rain boots and was carrying our spade-shaped shovel over my shoulder. 

Ready to Get to Business

We formed a circle like a band of conspirators as I broke ground, metal against rock and tree roots.  This was no easy task.  I got a patch cleared about two feet by three feet wide and only 2 inches deep.  This was going to have to do, because I was still holding back the primal urge to puke as Micky happily dragged the bag around the burial spot releasing putrid waves of rotting fur and soupy guts through the tiny drag holes in its bottom.  Renton ceremoniously dumped the possum in ditch.  Emily cheered. 

And as Renton shoveled the loose dirt and debris back over the unfortunate animal, I wondered how many terrified eyes were watching us through townhouse windows flanking our little patch of “woods”.    

If you look closely, you can see the "smear" on Micky's leg

We took a few pictures, feeling proud of ourselves, and then headed home. 

As in any classic murder- mystery-crime-scene-investigation, we did not leave without traces of murder on us.  Micky had sticky decomposing “smear” all over his right leg, Emily had a small patch of fur stuck to her foot, and I would NEVER get that smell out of my memory for as long as I would live.

I took out some heavy-duty all-purpose cleaner and sprayed their legs and feet and hands until they dripped with orange then scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed with paper towels.

Then we went inside, washed up, had a snack and snuggled together on the couch for popcorn and a family movie night.  All three kids had the most content smiles on their faces.

Three weeks from now we will go back and check on that possum.  I really hope those maggots and worms eat quickly.

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Kids and Pets

Bought the kids some fish today. But it took us going to two different PetCos. Because at the first one I was told that unless I put them in an aerated tank the store would refuse to sell me the fish.

"Seriously?" I asked? "Even the 99 cent sale fish?"

"Yes, ma'am" she said. "it's for the safety of the animals."

"But these are the fish I always had growing up." I kept trying. "I want my kids to have the same experience. And I just want the simple fish bowl deal."

"Nope" she insisted. "They'll die in a bowl." (well, duh!) "We can't sell them to you unless you guarantee they're going in a tank."

"What about the 15 Cent feeder fish?" I'm thinking they cant refuse me these, right? Wrong. Even the one slated for death apparently required a tank with temp control and air bubbles!

"Ok" I said. And left, heading for the next PetCo.

This time, I just asked for the fish and provided no details.

Success.

Oh but did I mention that two minutes after getting the fish out of the bag, Micky pulled his bowl down, the water splashed everywhere, and the fish slid effortlessly down the air vent?

I pulled them out and tossed them back in the bowl . . . Guess well see how tough these little guys are.

P.S.  Of course, we ran across Leo - the most amazing, gentle, lovable shelter mix up for adoption . . .

What's a girl to do? :)

UPDATE (2/28/12):  Leo was adopted by another family.  Probably a good thing.  I decided it's just not the right time for our family to have a dog.  We also bought Beta fish instead of the goldfish.  (Sorry fish lovers, the Petco lady was right and they died within a few days in our bowls.)  The Betas, however, are FLOURISHING!  =)

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Rebounderz - Only So So

Micky, Renton and Emily at Rebounderz - Sterling

Last month I purchased three Specialicious deals to Rebounderz in Sterling.  $10 each for 90 minutes of “bouncing”.  I figured with the winter weather heading our way, this would probably be a great release of energy for the kids.

Well, last Saturday I decided to use them.  THANK GOODNESS I called ahead because I had no idea that they typically have a ONE AND A HALF HOUR wait time before you get a spot in one of the bounce areas!  How is that even possible?  I mean seriously? 

Granted, this bounce place is not a child-only place.  It is geared toward adults as well (despite the fact that the Specialicious voucher only had kids on the picture).  If I were a grownup, maybe I’d wait that long . . . but I doubt it.  And at any rate,  I can guarantee you that my CHILDREN would not survive a wait time like that.  I asked them what Sunday was looking like and they said 1:30 would probably be a reasonable time to come in.  So Sunday around 1:30 it was going to be.

Sunday morning, we headed to church, then to Wegman’s ( where I could get some grocery shopping done sans kids thanks to ClubKidz!), a quick lunch at Burger King and off to Rebounderz.  As I pulled up to the building, I could already see that there was no parking anywhere near the entrance.  Not a good sign.  Keeping a hopeful spirit, however, we parked and walked in.

The first thing I noticed (and my kids noticed) was the MULTITUDE of video games!  I had no idea that this place was also one of those arcade/Chuck-E-Cheese type of places where you throw all your money away to earn little pieces of paper that allow you to buy horrible Chinese crap, and only after you spend $350 to earn 5,723 of the said little pieces of paper. 

This instantly put me on edge because I began to see their whole plan coming together.  Of course there is a 1-1/2 hour wait time!  They want you to spend all your money on the machines in order to pacify your children while you are waiting.  I don’t believe this is a coincidence.

Luckily, our wait time ended up only being 20 minutes.   The kids put on their community shoes and helmets (while I tried to stifle gags at the thought of the other kids’ feet and heads in there before mine), and headed over to the trampoline pit.

Here’s where things started to unravel a bit more.  As we are standing in line, I’m noticing that there are also very large teenagers, and grownups standing in line with lots of very small children.  To my amazement, we all went into an already very crowded arena.  And after a few brief instructions from the tattoo-covered- red-dyed-hair- earring-studded-pants-barely-hanging-on-to-his-butt, “referee”, that you could barely hear over the ROAR and “UNTZ! UNTZ! UNTZ! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!” of the techno rap music, everyone was let loose in the place.

Within 30 seconds (I kid you not) a tiny 2 year old girl was CLOBBERED by a teenage boy who had bounced feet first off the top of the trampoline wall and, not looking at all (because let’s face it, he’s a teen and probably didn’t realize the 20 other people were even in there with him) came FULL-FORCE down upon her.  Two seconds later he’d bounced away and the mother and little girl just sat there stunned. 

I looked around to see the three “referees” (already described), in a social circle checking their phones while holding their hands up in the air, gesturing and mouthing to the music as though they were at a house party (I think that may even have been the name of the song playing at the time) and not at a job that required them to care about the safety of the children (and adults) around them.

Okay, breathe, two, three, four.

It wasn’t all bad.  Renton got his knees knocked out from under him when another very large adult bounced into his trampoline square and caught him off guard, but for the most part the kids managed to stay in a corner by the entrance and avoid the careening bodies flying through the air and across the padded dividers. 

The kids had fun.   There’s no doubt about that.  But it was almost a stress-induced, fight-for-your-life, duck-and-bob, sort of fun.  When they seemed to be getting totally exhausted, I looked up at the time we had left and realized we still had 50 minutes remaining!  90 minutes was clearly too much for us.  I asked the kids if they wanted to leave in 10 minutes, they said yes, bounced around the place a few more times, then happily left. 

So here’s my overall rating: C
* Caveat (this is a MOMMY rating.  I’m rating this based on my experience as a mom with small kids.  If you were an adult or teen, you might very well give it an A or A+.  I don’t know)

Pros:

1.   Tires out the kids

2.   Fun (when you're not fending for your life) 

Cons:

1.       Expensive – IMHO (pricelist)

2.       Arcade games – unless you don’t mind your kids playing them

3.       Public shoes and helmets are required – yuck but unavoidable

4.       No segregation based on size or age – dangerous plain and simple

5.       Inattentive staff - dangerous

6.       Loud, explicit rap music – not child appropriate

Suggestions:

1.        Call ahead (you DEFINITELY want to know if there is going to be a wait time)

2.        Save it for a birthday party when you can be certain there will be a smaller number in the pit with you and your kids will all be about the same age and size

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Friday's on the Front Porch - Summer 2010

Wish I could remember the name of this band - they were a lot of fun!

This is the first in a series of "Back-Blogging" I'm going to do to add some meat to this blog to start.  I'm posting up some things the kids and I did from a few years back that were fun, or crazy or just plain blog-worthy.

This is a really fun program held at the Carolina Inn on UNC Campus Friday Nights in the spring and summer.  It is family friendly and culturally explosive!  =)  The kids absolutely love the freedom to run around and dance and be silly on the lawn.  You can bring your own seating or just throw a blanket down, sit back and enjoy.  It's free to get in and you can purchase fried chicken meals, drinks and beer.

HINTS: 

Bring snacks, drinks, blankets for the kids.  You can bring your own food in and the kids will love it!

Might want to consider bug spray.  Poor little Emily did get a lot of chigger or mosquitto bites from sitting in the grass.  

My kids loved the Mashups - Squeezable Fruit PERFECT for little kids on the go! 

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Old Town Alexandria Parade 2011

My Camogie Team (DC Gaels) marches in this parade every year and this was the first I decided to give it a try.  This was a great little parade.  Even though there were a lot of floats, the route was very short and they fed in floats from side streets so the walking part was definitely manageable.  The weather was great - mild and sunny, and the crowds were fun.  We had no meltdowns - yay!

BONUS:  My sister Sarah was there to help with corralling the kids and pushing the stroller.  Because we had to park pretty far away at first, walk to the meetup point, walk the parade, then walk back to the car, I don't think I'd have made it by myself.

What did NOT work was the Pub afterwards. Needless-to-say DC Gaels are a social as well as a sports club.  Most of the participants met up at a pub afterwards (I can't remember which right now but I'll add it later).  The pub was noisey and narrow (typical, right?) And the little kids did NOT like it!  And the grownups in the place liked us even less especially as I tried to maneuver Micky in the umbrella stroller through the pub just to get to the bathrooms.  Yes, people, I get it!  Who wants a little kid in a pub - but let's remember it is only mid day after a St. Patrick's Day Parade - give me a break!  Basically, I took the kids to pee and then we left.  Good Idea!

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