Mommy Gets a Geography Lesson from Cal

During this morning’s rush to get ready for work or school (depending upon which Leatherman was doing the getting ready) we managed to talk a little bit about, well, let’s just say India and mountains.  Cal started it off with, “Tibet <pronounced TI-bet> is in India.”

“It’s Tibet <pronounced ti-BET>,” Dan corrected Cal’s pronunciation.  “You’re right, it is.”

“Tibet.  It’s close to Nepal,” Cal continued.

“That’s right!  Nepal is where the biggest mountain in the world is,” Dan added.  News to me.

Cal knew this.  “Mt Everest,” he said.  I don’t even think I really knew that.  Dan confirmed that Cal had it right.

Then Cal added, “It’s not the biggest mountain in the UNIVERSE, though.  MARS has the biggest mountain.  It’s THREE TIMES the size of Mt. Everest.”

Goodness.  I don’t know if his facts are correct.  We’ve been doing a lot of reading of this “Planets” book, so I’m sure it’s in there.  When we read, facts just stick in Cal’s head (while they just bounce off of the eighty-seven other things I’m subconsciously thinking about as I read and either exit or find their place in an unreachable place in my brain).  I know Mars isn’t one of the gas planets, so he could very well be right.

Cal then brought waterfalls into the picture.  “The tallest waterfall is bigger than the tallest mountain,” he said.

Huh?  Dan quickly challenged this with, “What do you think a waterfall falls off of, Cal?”

Cal responded matter of factly, “A cliff.”

Dan confirmed that with a simple, “That’s right.”  He didn’t explain that the cliff is probably on a mountain and just left it for Cal to figure out… or not figure out.  Cal had already moved on and announced that India is close to China.

“Yep,” I said.  I didn’t know its exact proximity to China, but that sounded reasonable.

“Come to my room so I can show you on my globe, Mommy,” Cal insisted.  Sweet - he's using his globe!

I initially resisted in the interest of finishing getting myself ready for work as I was already running late.  Typical.  I found myself headed to Cal's room anyway because, well, my kid wanted to show me something interesting.  Cal was already there and had already turned his globe so that the India-Nepal-China side was facing us.  "See," he said, pointing to the three countries, which he could do with one finger because he was right -- India is close to China with only Nepal in between.  It was at this time that I noticed Nepal is a country and not a city in India.  I had a flashback to my days in college where I carried my sister through the Geography class we took together, and I questioned how that was.  Nepal is a country?

"You were right, Cal!" I exclaimed, completely sincere.  I had learned a little geography from my 5-year-old kid, which I'm sure won't be the last time.

The Leatherfamily Tells Knock-Knock Jokes

At dinner tonight, Cal decided to tell a knock-knock joke.  It would be a good ending to a no-so-good dinner -- there was just something funky about the black-eyed peas in this new salad I had been wanting to try out on the Leatherfamily for a few weeks now.  Maybe it's because I've had the black-eyed peas for nearly that same time period.

"Knock knock," Cal said, looking at Dan.

Naturally, Dan responded, "Who's there?"

"Wha'd'ya want?!" Cal responded and then flashed a big, proud smile.  We all laughed.

Dan then announced that he had one.  "Knock knock," he started.

Cooperating the way one is supposed to didn't come as naturally to Cal, who said nothing and just looked at Dan.  Dan coached him a bit and tried again.  "Knock knock," he said.

"Who's there?" Cal asked.

"Banana."

"Banana who?"

"Knock knock."

"Who's there?"

"Banana."

"Banana who?"

And we all know how this one goes.  Eventually, after one or two more "bananas" than I would have done, Dan introduced "Orange" into the mix.

"Orange who?" Cal got suckered in.

"OR-ANGE you glad I didn't say 'Banana'?" Dan responded.  We laughed one of those forced "Bwahaha" laughs, but the kids didn't really "get" it.  Dan explained it to Cal a little, and he may or may not have understood.

Then Ella announced that she had one.  "Knock knock," she started it, grinning from ear to ear.

"Who's there?" Dan asked her.

"ME!" Ella responded proudly.  Now this was funny (even though it really wasn't), so we laughed about this one.

My arsenal of knock-knock jokes was depleted once the "Banana-Orange" one was used.  I remember there being an endless supply of knock-knock jokes, and I can only remember one of them.  Thankfully, there's the internet... and, well, "Big Bang Theory."

Later, I turned to TBS to get my daily dose of "Big Bang Theory."  I was also doing some lite work, so I was really only half paying attention to the show.  That was, until I heard this from Sheldon, "Knock knock."

The guys responded reluctantly, "Who's there?"

"Hugh."

"Hugh who?"

"HUGH should have listened to me..."

How fitting that that episode played on the day we did our own share of knock-knock jokes.  Too bad I didn't hear it before dinner so I could have used it with Dan and the kids!

Nighttime Ella Strikes Again

I believe the only thing I actually did right in the middle of last night was to get out of bed to help Ella the fifth time I heard the words, “Mommy, I’m wet.”  Coming off of keeping myself calm, cool and collected as Ella loudly challenged my taking her Mickey bed away because she didn’t actually stay in it at bedtime, I was still feeling pretty good about myself.  I was particularly pleased with my choosing to take the time to hold her and talk her into a calm instead of leaving her upset and having to figure out how to calm herself down and go to bed on her own, which really only ends with her giving in out of sheer exhaustion.

With that success fresh in my mind, one would think that I would have handled what she was about to throw at me in the middle of the night much better than I did.  Even half as good as I did actually may have salvaged some shut eye for Cal and Dan… or at least Cal since I think he’s completely innocent in the madness, not that Dan did anything wrong other than not be specifically named in the “I’m wet” declaration. Why do I have to be the chosen one?  Why isn’t it, “Daddy, I’m wet”?  Why doesn’t he tell me he’ll take it even though I’m the one being called?  But I digress.

I approached her, standing in the hallway between our rooms, sympathetically and immediately offered my help.  I must have missed the horns sticking out of her head and pitchfork in her hand.  I innocently guided her to the bathroom where I sat on the toilet to pee first and then calmly told her I’d help her get out of her jammies and proceeded to do so starting with the top.  That’s when it started, “it” being the madness I am nicely calling “Nighttime Ella.”

“NOOOOO!!!  I’m cold!” she yelled at me.

What?!  I hadn’t expected this reaction and tried to reason with her.

“Ella, I just need to get you out of your wet jammies, wipe you down and put new jammies on,” I told her, fully expecting she’d understand.  It’s part of the drill.  When I’ve had to do this for Cal, we are automatic – he follows my lead: I pull everything off, wipe everything down and put everything on and then send him to my bed to warm up while I change his bedding.  No complaints and done in a couple of minutes.

Everything that I did from that point forward was unacceptable to Ella, and she let me know it.  As I pulled her bottoms off, she screamed again that she was cold.  As I wiped her, she let her body go limp and screamed more.  She battled me on the way to her bedroom – I don’t know where she thought we should go.  I picked a princess nightgown to throw on her and she screamed, “not that one!”  I tried to help her put the jammies she picked on, and she told me loudly that she didn’t want my help.  When I left her to do it herself while I grabbed a sheet from the hallway closet, she yelled at me for leaving and not helping.  I pulled the bedding off of her mattress and wiped it down, and she disapproved of that.  The replacement blankets weren’t the ones she wanted.  When I finally had her in her bed, I didn’t put the blankets on right. “I don’t want my babies.  I do want my babies.  I want Sheep.  I don’t want Sheep.”  And when I tried leaving the room, wet bedding in my arms, without waiting for an “I love you” followed by blown kisses from her, she yelled at me that she wanted to tell me that.

No kidding.  It was brutal.  And it wasn’t just Ella yelling this whole time.  Sure, I started calm with a loud whisper, “SSHHH… you’re going to wake up Cal and Daddy.”  But with every yell and uncooperative struggle she presented me, I got louder myself, dropping swear words and spewing genuinely angry words as I did so.  Together, we did wake up Cal and Daddy and quite possibly the neighbors on either side of our house.

Finally free from Ella and wide awake, I checked on Cal to make sure he was okay, and I think I apologized to him and told him to try to go back to sleep.  I gathered up his dirty clothes and grabbed some of mine and Dan’s (I am nothing if not practical) and went downstairs to start a load of laundry and, really, to calm down.  I was so angry… so frustrated… so sad.

Once again, I failed to keep my cool and felt no better about myself having yelled back at her.  I’m not a yeller.  I hate that I yell.  The fact that I’m human just doesn’t seem like a good enough reason to do so.

I eventually made my way back upstairs.  Dan did have to get up and deal with Nighttime Ella after I left her, and she had calmed down by the time I was back upstairs.  Cal was still wide awake.  I climbed into his bed with him where we cuddled a bit and listened to a few rounds of the Frozen soundtrack (he starts it over after the trolls’ song) until he finally fell asleep.  I went back to mine and Dan’s room where Dan was still awake and flipping through channels on the TV.  Eventually, we too fell asleep, I don’t really even know at what time.

I love Ella.  Of course I do.  She's a lot of fun and cute as the proverbial button.  I just wish she'd put Nighttime Ella to bed once and for all because I can't figure out how to do it for even one night.

Nicky's Beef

I could have avoided it altogether.  I’m certain of it.  Had I “listened to my <Ella’s> words” and moved from my current seat in the booth next to Cal to the empty one waiting for Dan to fill it next to Ella, Ella would have been perfectly content and well on her way to her normal, mostly tolerable antics while dining publicly.  The wildcard was Cal, but he would have surely handled my move away from him better than Ella did.  He may have pouted or shouted ONCE, “No!” or loudly whined, “WHYEEE?” or informed either me or Ella (or both of us) that he no longer liked us.  As far as keeping the peace was concerned, I knew my best move would have been to comply with the princess’s wishes and sit down next to her for our post-beach Sunday dinner at Nicky’s.  But I chose to stay next to Cal.

Why I chose this battle to fight, I’m not sure.  More often than I like to admit, I give in to Ella’s demands with the only rationale being to avoid the certain fight or meltdown that would ensue should I not.  Sometimes, I’m just choosing to not engage myself in a battle because it’s just not worth fighting it, as in:

Me: “It’s camp shirt day, Ella.  School wants you to wear your camp shirt on camp shirt day.  Please wear your camp shirt.”

Ella <sharply>: “No!  I want to wear a dress!”

Me: “Okay”… be the only kid NOT wearing her camp shirt.

Other times, there’s just not enough time to battle, as in:

Me <rushed>: “Please put some socks on with your running shoes, Ella.”

Ella: “No!  I don’t like socks!”

Me <looking at my watch and realizing any further delay will make us late>: “Fine, I hope you get blisters. Please put your shoes on.”

And then Ella happily puts on her running shoes without socks and, unfortunately, doesn’t get blisters.

And sometimes… let’s be honest… right or wrong… bad-precedent-setting or not… sometimes I’m just not in the mood.  Apparently yesterday, I was in the mood.

I don’t think it’s the way she insisted I sit by her, though I suppose the mere fact that she insisted I do so is a little troubling.  But she wasn’t necessarily bossy, mean or smirky about it, just pleasantly presumptuous.  And it’s not even that I just really, really, really wanted to sit next to Cal.  Sure, I think he gets cheated out of Mommy time (and I out of Cal time) more often than I’d like; but I really didn’t choose to sit next to him – we just fell into the seating arrangement.

I think it was just time.  Ella and I have had some tough exchanges at bedtime lately, the kind that involve my telling her “I don’t even LIKE to put you to bed anymore” very matter-of-factly and honestly, a completely ineffective tactic lost on Ella and not even something that makes me feel good.  Last Thursday’s debacle of a bedtime was still fresh in my memory where Ella and I reached unprecedented levels of not doing what the other wanted, Ella mouthy, not staying in bed and crying and me yelling despite my vow not to, taking things away from her with every infraction and feeling more frustrated than ever, unsure of the right thing to do and certain everything that I was doing was the wrong thing.

When she first started making a big deal about my sitting next to her at Nicky’s, I tried to deflect a bit and get her to be interested in the seating pattern that we had unknowingly established.  “Look, Ella, look at the pattern!”  I told her excitedly.  Pointing to Cal first and circling clockwise, I said “Boy, Girl, Boy, Girl!  That’s a cool pattern – we can’t switch seats!”  As cool as I thought I had made it sound (I was reaching), Ella wasn’t biting.  With my body still diagonal from hers at the table, she got more upset, insisting I sit next to her.  The more upset and bossy she got, the more I dug in – at this point, I wasn’t going to move, whatever the cost.  And I told her this.

She then escalated her dissatisfaction with me by yelling at me, yelling at Cal, declaring she hated Daddy (what did he do?) and me and, I think, Cal.  "WHY aren't you LISTENING to my WORDS?!" she shouted.  She even got up to put her purse at a different table and marched back to her spot diagonal from me. I’m not sure what purpose moving the purse served but I’m sure she thought this was another way to express her frustration that I wasn’t complying with her demands.

At this point, we were really loud in a fairly packed restaurant.  I glanced around, and, to my surprise, only one other table showed any visible interest in what was going on at our table, the one man smiling, almost laughing and the other subtly glancing at us, well, because you can’t help but look at the train wreck.  Dan, still at the counter waiting for our food, finally peeked back at our table and mouthed, “I’ll get it to go. Take them to the car.”

This was the right move.  Ella was just short of throwing herself on the ground, screaming and flailing her arms and legs up and down, but I gave her one last chance.  I always feel like I need to give the official warning that an undesirable consequence of the kids' misbehaviors is about to happen unless the misbehaviors stop, as if it's warranted or even effective.  I told Ella that I wasn't moving and if she didn't stop yelling by the time I count to three we would leave and eat dinner at home.  Without hesitation and before I even said, "1," she continued her rant; so off we headed to the car where I proceeded to apologize to Cal about having to leave and explained to Ella that, in so many words, she's the reason we had to leave.  When Dan finally made it to the car, he had his own things to say, essentially reinforcing what I had already said (but blaming Cal for some of it, which may have been justified -- I was so locked in on Ella, Cal could have been loud and swinging from the ceiling fans and I wouldn't have noticed).

I could have given in at any moment in those 10 or so minutes inside Nicky's and gotten Ella to quiet down and just be happy by simply sitting next to her instead of Cal.  Dan would have brought our sandwiches and fries to us for us to "enjoy" the usual dinner out at a restaurant, the kids needing constant reminders to sit in their seats and eat, Dan questioning our decision to eat out and me already worrying about Ella's bedtime.

I could have given in, but I didn't.  Hopefully, we'll all be better off for it.

Ben Franklin Gets a Vacuum Demo (a Quickie)

Cal and I were making our way to pick up a couple of reams of paper before checking out and paying for our goods at Costco this afternoon when he saw someone he recognized.  At the corner of the aisle where we expected to find this paper, a lady was holding a vacuum cleaner and talking to a man who was intently listening to her.  I didn't pay much attention to the two of them until after we passed them and I heard this from my excited son:

"Hey, Ben Franklin!"

I turned and looked closely at the man.  He had wire-rimmed glasses and longish hair that started on the top, side of his head.  On the top of his head and forehead was no hair - he was completely bald on top.  He, indeed, looked like Ben Franklin... a young Ben Franklin, for sure.

I told Cal that he shouldn't say stuff like that, that the person he's talking about may not take it as a compliment.  I don't know how effective I was considering I was laughing all the while.  He's so perceptive and creative and, incidentally, dead on with his people recognitions.  I couldn't help but laugh.

Ella Finishes My Thought (A Quickie)

After surviving our trip to Walgreens this afternoon, Cal on his bicycle, Ella in the wagon, me pulling Ella and giving constant direction and warnings to Cal who was consistently way ahead of us, I praised Cal for a good decision that he had made.  We had bought our chocolate chips, flour and salt and then exited the store to assume our spots on our chosen modes of transportation, not to suggest I had any choice in mine.  Before Cal crossed the parking lot on the path to the sidewalk he stood next to his bicycle and actually looked both ways with no reminder from me.  I was behind him and saw it all and then laid it on thick:

"GOOD JOB, Baby Bear <that nickname just isn't going away and will surely be used as I sit in the stands of the high school watching him play his chosen ball sport>!!!"

"What did I do?" he asked.  I suppose that's good - looking both ways should be second nature.

"You looked both ways before crossing the... the... the WHATEVER," I told him, unable to think of the term for which I was looking.

"Street!" Ella added without skipping a beat.

Yes, Ella finished my thought for me. I suppose she should.  Afterall, she's the one most responsible for taking my ability to have complete thoughts from me.

The Dells 2014 - Day Last

The morning of our last day in the Dells started much like the previous two days had.  The kids woke up first (and after 7am), happy.  Dan and I did some work on our computers while the kids watched episodes of Sophia and Doc (Cal more than Ella, actually, though he won't let on to that fact).  We got into our suits.  Instead of a run, we packed our stuff and threw it into the car.  And we were off to the water slides just after 10am.

This time, we started on the other side of the park where Dan and Cal had only briefly ventured the day before.  Cal wanted me to do that water slide that ended with a free-fall with him, so we did that first.  I sat in the back of the two-person tube, and he sat in my lap, per his instructions.  Every time we did a slide together, he knew more about it than I did; so he led the way, and I followed.  This slide wasn't as scary as I had anticipated.  I think if we had made it up through the last letter on the slide like he and Dan did, I'd have a different perspective.  But we only made it through the first part of the last letter (higher than most that I had seen), so I figured we were okay.  I did have occasional thoughts of "what if we flip backwards on our way down?" and figured no one else was doing that, so why would we?  It's funny finding comfort in "well, no one else has fallen off."

This side of the park also had the Lost City of Atlantis play area for the kids.  There was water falling and dripping and squirting everywhere.  Stairs took kids up and down.  There were three, maybe four small water slides, one which ended in a round, enclosed area that was only accessible via a spiral staircase.  The draw to this area was probably the big bucket of water at the top of the entrance to this area that had a constant flow of water into it and that would tip once it was full, slamming gallons of water down to the pavement and onto any unsuspecting or brave souls standing underneath it.

Cal was terrified of this bucket and kept a constant eye on its status -- he could tell when it was going to tip over and would scurry out of the way.  Eventually, he learned that he could take the tube slide down when this bucket tipped and be protected from it.  I witnessed this, and Cal confirmed his tactic by proudly telling me what he was doing.

Ella's big toes were still pretty chewed up, so we told her she needed to wear water shoes if she wanted to go into the water areas.  We told her we'd buy her some pink water shoes from the park.  PINK, her favorite color.  Slip-ons without any Velcro straps to stick up and annoy her.  She didn't want to have anything to do with them.  Who knows why.

Dan eventually got her into her Crocs (she had been wearing flip flops) to try this Lost City area.  She went up the five stairs to the tube slide and actually slid down it without much prompting or encouragement.  I was at the top, so I didn't see what happened at the base; but she emerged unhappy.  Eventually, she made her way to another slide (just a straight-down quickie) and was happy and excited to go down it until the big bucket of water tipped over slamming gallons of water not on her but a little bit on the slides.  Great timing.  She turned around and headed back down the stairs and didn't try another attraction that day.

If we were in that area for an hour, I'd be surprised.  I asked Cal if he wanted to try another slide or go down the one with the free-fall again, and he said he didn't.  He wanted to do the Tidal Wave.  So we headed back over to our comfort zone for the rest of our day, which was only going to last until no later than 1pm anyway.  Cal did the Tidal Wave once, and then he and I headed over to Lightning and Thunder to finish out our half day there.  Dan and Ella eventually made it over there, too, to watch.

I'll second Cal's declaration that this was a great vacation for us.  Despite the usual dealings with Ella's obstinacy, frequently being on the receiving end of wedgies and the kids' (mis)behavior in public restaurants, I felt really relaxed and genuinely happy.  And I learned a few things - let's say ten things - along the way:

1. Ella is not the daredevil or risk taker that I thought she was.  The slides that we were trying to get her to go down were made for people her size, yet she was afraid.  Those that she did do took some time for her to build up to and not without a lot of encouragement from me.  I am now officially afraid of her first swimming lesson, which we haven't scheduled yet.

2. Cal tried new things much more quickly and boldly than I expected.  Cal generally doesn't do anything new unless he knows he can do it.  If he's scared to try something, he lets you know it... loudly so that you don't ask if he wants to try it again.  The kid pretty much did all of the slides that he was big enough to do.  If he was scared, I didn't know it.  He did have a couple of "moments" in the Tidal Wave area with Dan (I'd re-cap them, but I think only Dan's impersonation of him gives it justice); but Cal went back for more and eventually learned how to enjoy it his way.  He was a joy to watch throughout our vacation, really.

3. I can walk around in nothing but a bathing suit all day... comfortably.  It was probably the atmosphere -- meaning, everyone was doing this -- but I really didn't think twice about what I looked like.  Belly flab that my tankini can't hide, boobs that are too small for my post-pregnancy bathing suit (my new "normal" bathing suit was hanging on a hook by the door to the garage - oops), slouchy shoulders and probably something big or saggy about my butt are traits I generally try to hide when I'm venturing to a swimming pool.  At the Dells, I was "out there, Jerry, and loving it."

4. Many other parents are dealing with the same shit we are.  My hours sitting in the kiddie area while Ella enjoyed the little slides weren't spent just watching her.  I also observed other kids and their parents.  I saw what had to be a 7-year-old with a pacifier in her mouth.  I saw many a parent coaxing his fearful child up and then down a slide that shouldn't be feared.  I saw kids not listening to their parents who insisted they not climb up the slide.  I saw overprotective parents saving their kids from the small splashes at the base of the slides.  I saw tantrums and big kids big enough to walk on their own being carried by their parents.  Ahhh... we really aren't alone.  That's all the comfort I need.

5. The one thing we can count on Cal eating is a cheeseburger.  I guess I knew this going into our Dells vacation; but it was confirmed while we were there.  The only thing he ate all of were his cheeseburgers, his daily choice for lunch at the water park and for dinner Day 1.  Really, I'm not sure what else sustained him - some French fries, a few nutrition bars, a couple of handfuls of animal crackers, a bite of pizza?

6. I haven't yet figured Ella out.  We say she's Cybil.  She has a Jekyll-and-Hyde personality.  One minute she's obstinate, uncooperative and unhappy, the next minute, she's as happy as a lark as if the previous minute hadn't happened.  Most of the time, she chooses me to be with, which I have no idea why because I've repeatedly told her how much I don't like being with her only because she's difficult to be with.  "Carry me."  "I'm thirsty."  "My legs hurt."  "NO!"  "I don't like you, Mommy."  All the while whining.  I heard this regularly during our vacation.  I find myself giving in all too often with her demands if only to have some peace.  I know this is wrong; I just haven't figure out the "right" tactic that works.

7. I wonder how my sister ever uses the bathrooms at places like water parks.  I can barely do it.  I wish I could be more like Ella using them, unaffected by wetness and grodiness... wait, no I don't.

8. I need my alone time, even if it's only a half hour.  My run the morning of Day 3 was excellent.  I rebooted.  I formulated possible plans for us without the influence of the other three.  I did my own thing, had complete thoughts and saw the world my own way.

9. Looking back on our 2014 vacation, we'll wonder if Ella was there.  Not really, but it was a struggle to get her to cooperate for pictures.  Take this one for example (taken by Cal):

And this one was our second or third attempt and only gotten because we bribed her (I can't remember with what):

She does take pretty good pictures, though, as in this one:

10. My kids can say pretty cool things unsolicited.  "Thank you for bringing me on this vacation," said Cal.  And "You're the best mommy," announced Ella.  Both made me smile, though I do wonder what Ella's setting me up for, particularly considering number six above.

Dan and I both concluded that our Wisconsin Dells vacation of 2014 was a success and already figure we'll go back many times.  Cal's all about this; Ella, well, I'm sure she will be... maybe.  Only she knows.

The Dells 2014 - Day 3

I brought some running clothes with me (two sets) and actually did go for a run before hitting the water park on Day 3.  We're close to Lake Delton, and I believe there are running paths near it; but the risk of getting lost, too far away or murdered (yes, this crossed my mind as a possibility, albeit remote) was too great, so I decided to just run up and down the main drag outside of our hotel.  I'd actually name the main drag, but I don't know what it is.  The signage and traffic lights around here are very strange.  It's a different world up here.

I ran for 33 minutes, and I figure I did 3.5 miles. It turned out to be a hilly route and one with a few distractions that took me off the path to check out the scene.  It was while on my run that I decided where we'd eat dinner later that day -- this Mexican joint with seating on the lake... or maybe it was a river... with a dam in the near distance.  I knew Mommy and Daddy would enjoy some margaritas, figured Cal might enjoy the wonder of the dam and Ella, well, I just didn't know.

My run finished, we got ready to head to the water park for Day 3.  It was just after 10am.  Day 3 at the water park was very similar to Day 2, except better in terms of logistics.  We picked a more central place to put our towels and brought the sunscreen with us (instead of leaving it in the room) so reapplying wouldn't require a walk back to our room... with my slow-walking, "my legs hurt" BFF, Ella... and I really don't want to re-cap how that walk was.

Cal was great again, tackling water slide after water slide and sneaking a couple of wave pool experiences in between.  He even tried this crazy two-person slide (Lost City of Atlantis, I believe) which involved a drop and slide up a wide base and then a subsequent "free fall" back down.  Dan said they almost reached the end of the wide base before the free fall... whoa.  I may try this with Cal today - surely we won't go THAT high.

Dan and I also took turns on the mat slides on Day 3.  Holy crap were those fast and twisty... and, consequently, scary.  There were four of them, and Dan and I each took a ride on each one.  We had to.  After my first trip down on the slide to the far left, my brain was telling me to head back to Lighting and Thunder to watch Cal - I think it thought my life was in danger.  But my legs didn't get that message and took me right back up for slides 2 and 3 on my mat and slide 4 without it.  The speed on the mat was great, but fearing for my life as I zipped around what I believed to be the top edge of a curve and quickly headed into a tube was not so great.  I later learned that Dan thought he was airborne heading into a tube.  I wonder if I would have tried it had I known that before making the trip up?  I wonder if anyone has actually gotten hurt on these things?  As uncool as putting my life in danger was, the trip down without the mat (the body slide) was even more uncool - I almost came to a stop halfway down the slide.  I guess I was alive, so I shouldn't complain.

Ella was less excited about the water park on Day 3 but did fall back into her comfort with the kiddie play area (the one with the duck, pirate ship, pelican and dolphin... doh, whale slides).  This time, she only spent chunks of time on any one slide and moved on to another.  Her favorite had to be that pirate slide - I'd say most of her time was spent there and mostly on her buns (and not the signature belly down, feet first slide she was doing Day 2).  Most slides involved a hair flip at the bottom and every once in awhile (maybe when she was hot?) she'd lay back down in the pool, lay her head back to wet her hair, close her eyes and smile and then pop up to slide again.  I called this her "Bo Derek" move.  Diva.  Really.

The cool thing about Ella's play area is that it required little work from me.  I could sit in a low beach chair in the water myself and just watch and observe and throw in an occasional "I did!" in response to Ella's, "Did you see me, Mommy?"  That is, until I observed another mom grab her squirming child off of a slide and telling him, "I just want to see if that blood is coming from you."  Doh.  I knew that was my kid's blood - we had to treat her bloody big toes the day before, so I was certain they had broken open again then.  So I grabbed her, confirmed my suspicions and took her over to our chairs to treat her.  I, having applied my learnings from Day 1, had our first aid kit with us.

Ella's not the best patient.  Really, she might almost be the worst.  Blood was pouring out of her big toes, and she insisted she didn't need Band-Aids.  I find this infuriating.  Many times, I've been on the receiving end of her insisting she needs a Band-Aid for a non-cut on her foot... or leg... or finger; and when she really does need Band-Aids, she battles us to get them on.

It was probably sometime around 3:30pm or 4pm when this happened, so we were getting close to leaving for the day.  Cal got a few more runs down Lightning and Thunder in while Ella and Dan watched.  I took a ride on the lazy river at the same time.  By 4:30pm we were walking to check out the other side of the park and buy something at the shops over there; and by 5pm, we were heading back to the room to shower and get read for dinner at the Mexican joint on the lake... or river, whatever it was.  That dinner went exactly as we expected it - Dan and I had margaritas, and the kids didn't eat their dinners.  Ella almost fell over the back of her chair.  Cal asked a lot of questions about how the people got off the boats at the base of the restaurant.  And I managed to get this picture, a frame-worthy one, of the kids:

The Dells 2014 - Day 2

The day started with a funny from Cal.  It was one of those where he didn't even know he was being funny, which I think is the best kind of funny with these Leatherkids.  We were waiting for 10am to come around to head to the water park for the day.  During that wait, we were naturally conversing as we Leathermans normally do.  I think we were talking about the various slides at the water park and whether or not they were scary, and that's when the funny happened:

Dan: "I'm not afraid."

Cal: "Yeah, because you have kids."

Bahahahahaha!  It was so subtle, random and unplanned.  Okay, so this is funny because we have a magnet on our fridge at home that reads, "You can't scare me, I have children" (or something like that).  Clearly, Cal has seen the magnet.

So Day 2 at the Dells started with laughter, a good foundation for a good day.

Cal spent the better part of Day 2 riding Lightning and Thunder, two medium-sized water slides that he could do on his own.  Requiring no inflated tube or mat and a little nerve, Lightning and Thunder each had a couple of tight turns intermingled amongst the two slides and spit their riders out into two parallel tracks filled with a foot of two of water at their bases.  Thunder was an open slide; Lightning was enclosed -- the whole way down -- and was much faster than its sister slide.

One thing I've learned about water parks is to recognize and distinguish the tube slides from the open slides.  It wasn't until I rode the MRI tube that they called Lightning all the way down that I thought of this.  Had it not been significantly faster than Thunder, my first ride down it would have been my last.  Cal selected Lightning at least twice as many times as Thunder, so I clearly did not pass the claustrophobic gene down to him.

Cal also did the Tidal Wave (wave pool) and Anaconda (the bigger of the two indoor slides) with Dan and tried another outdoor two-person inflated tube slide with me.  He also got a lot of enjoyment out of the larger of the two kiddie slides next to Ella's play area, riding it countless times.

Ella's play area had water in its base that may have reached a foot deep in its center.  This area had two duck slides that were probably as long as two Ellas, a pirate ship slide that was maybe three Ellas, a pelican slide that was also three Ellas but that had a sharp slope down and then a whale slide that we sometimes confused as the dolphin slide.  This one had two curvy slides coming out of two whales at the top, and I would guess they were at least five Ellas (maybe more) in length.  Each slide ended in the water enough that the children going down them would get splashed but not splashed too much.  Ella worked her way up to the dolphin... doh, I mean whale slide and eventually had enough nerve to slide down it on her belly and feet first.  This became her signature move, which she carried back to the other slides she had already tackled to mix things up in the end.

Ella OWNED that play area and poo-pooed any suggestion that she branch out a bit and try the water slide that Cal was doing or float on a tube down the lazy river with me.  Most of her time was spent on the whale slide following the same pattern each time she did the slide - slide down, splash at the bottom, stand up, do a hair flip, scurry to the steps, go up, go down again.  It was fun to watch, really -- she loved every moment she was there.

Dan and I managed to squeeze in a couple of slides on our own, Dan doing the "Demon's Drop" and me doing the "Dragon's Tail" while the Leatherkids watched.  As if the speed and, in Dan's case, the drop wasn't challenge to overcome enough, both slides required a serious climb up some wooden stairs giving us, well, me (I can't speak for Dan) a lot of time to reconsider the foolishness.  When I was at the top of the slides (they shared a platform and were side by side), I had a hiccup in my sanity and almost went to sit at the top of "Demon's Drop" (the air was thin up there) but then realized what I'd be facing the moment my buns hit the top of that slide -- NOTHING.  At least with "Dragon Tail" there was a gradual slope down at the start before the big drop.

We ended the day with a visit to a souvenir shop, the kind that Dan and I both remember going to as kids with the cheap, cheesey t-shirts and trinkets.  Cal picked a "Wisconsin Dells" ceramic bank and an owl key chain; Ella picked a pink and green cord necklace and matching bracelet and a pink heart keychain with "Wisconsin Dells" written on it.  From there, we headed back to our hotel room where we ordered some pizza and where Dan and I actually ate that pizza.

As the kids slept next to us, again, virtually as soon as their heads hit their pillows, Dan and I relaxed in the bed beside them and recapped our day to each other.  We were both really pleasantly surprised by Cal's willingness to try new things and not approach them with tentativeness and trepidation.  While they were waiting to go down Anaconda together, Cal thanked Dan for taking him on this vacation -- he's having a great time.  For that reason alone, we are, too.

The Dells 2014 - Day 1

We arrived in Wisconsin Dells early afternoon yesterday, quickly checked in and hit the water park (or at least a couple of sections of it).  It was a little chilly outside, unexpected for these parts in early July; and the water in pool area was even chillier -- my first couple of steps into it brought me back to the days of submerging my legs up to my knees in a whirlpool of ice to soothe my painful shin splints.

Despite the cold water, kids were flying off of the bottom of the 3 or 4 slides and into the foot-deep water, laughing and smiling, completely unaffected by the cold water.  Call it fearless or just clueless, this trait about kids always amuses me. They really have no sense for how cold the water they're about to jump into really is.

Cal tackled the first section like a pro.  Sure, the section was probably more suited for those three and under, but he didn't have an ounce of the tentativeness that he usually has when taking on anything new.  It was great.

Ella, on the other hand, tried the smallest slide one time, sitting in my lap.  We don't really know why she wouldn't do it a second time, but I suspect it's because she got a face full of water at the end... up her nose... Ella doesn't do well with water up her nose.  But she found a lot of pleasure following the same route past a giant frog, up a climbing rope wall, over a bridge, through a tunnel, up another climbing rope wall, through another tunnel, past the top of the slide she tried once and then down the stairs next to it, getting splashed by water along the way.  I followed her twice, recognized the pattern and then just sat and "watched" her predictable self again and again.  Even the splashing water was pretty darn chilly.

Meanwhile, Cal and Dan were trying out the indoor water park and stumbled upon a large, green, snaking water slide that required sitting on a two-person, figure-8-shaped, giant tube.  They did it a few times and came back out to the section where Ella was doing her 30th lap to tell me all about it.  I'd recap it, but I really have (and had, at the time) no idea what Cal was saying.  All I know is, he was excited.  So I jumped on the opportunity to do it with him, leaving Dan to watch Ella do her laps.  It was pretty cool.  The slide is enclosed in a tube, and there's a lot of twists to it.  I felt like a bob-sledder as we went down it.  The best part was taking direction from my 5-year-old.  "Go here, Mommy," "Get in like this, Mommy," and, at the end, "Okay, get ready, Mommy."  He never did say what I was to get ready for -- but I figured it out the first time as we were thrown from the tube and into a pool of water.

And then there was the pirate ship.  With a sign that reads, "Swim Diapers Required," one can imagine the excitement and challenge of this one.  Ella, of course, refused to go down the slides (and I wasn't going to go with her); and Cal did the slides many times... many, many times... turns out it was fun just watching him.

We ended Day 1 with a dinner at Sprecher's, chosen in honor of the Schumachers, my relatives up here in these parts who drink that stuff.  The kids were their normal, antsy selves at the restaurant.  Really, it felt like we were at a restaurant back home.  But those hot pretzels with beer-cheese, rootbeer and mustard sauces were legit.  And I had my first quinoa-spinach wrap - yum.

Dan and I were worried (Dan more than I) the kids would have trouble falling asleep sharing a bed with each other and a room with Dan and me.  Turns out, that was a waste of a thought - here they are asleep, minutes after their heads hit their pillows.  No naps and a day at the water park did the trick.

Cal Does Algebra (a Quickie)

Upon finishing the last of his Smarties tonight, Cal expressed a math sentence out of the blue.  Here's how it went:

Cal: "4 times a equals 20."

Me: "What's a?"

Cal: "5."

Perhaps it was the Smarties that made him smarter in the moment, perhaps he's just a natural. I figure it's the latter and anticipate having to call on Uncle Perry for Math assistance sooner than we originally thought.