First Snowfall

I don't know what the precise conditions were that allowed for this. I know I've never seen anything like it before. These perfect specimens were very lightly blanketing the Jeep on the morning of Dec. 11th as I was taking Brookie to preschool. It was certainly cold enough to preserve these throughout the night. But why did they only barely stick to the windshield and not blow off? Most were on an edge - hardly any laid flat against the glass. How did just this small sprinkling occur and not more? What was the window of time available for me to see this spectacle, and why was I so fortunate? How rare is this? I wouldn't say this was life-changing, but I was pretty humbled by the event.

And Brooklyn was 10 minutes late for school because we paused so long to take it all in.
I really don't even know if these should technically be called snowflakes. They look more like the folded paper cutouts or the Hollywood version of the perfect snowflake (I'm thinking of 'Grinch' here). They certainly don't look like the big fluffy flakes we try to catch on our tongues.


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The Fast and the Furious

Madison has a best friend at school. She's an adorable little girl that was also in her Kindergarten class last year and now sits next to Madison in the 1st grade. Sara arranged Madison's first real play date for her and her friend at our house one day last month. In the middle of the night Madison became ill. Unbeknownst to us at the time, her friend also became very sick. Her mom called us the next day to warn us that her daughter was sick and that the doctors thought it might be the swine flu.

Madison was really sick for a little more than a day and then began to recover. Her friend, however, became more and more ill. It is extremely serious. She is currently hospitalized in Intensive Care and has been put into a medically-induced coma. Whether or not it really was the swine flu, we don't know. She is now battling pneumonia. She's already missed five straight weeks of school.
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Yesterday at church Madison learned about fasting from her Primary teacher. Later that afternoon, Madison excitedly suggested that we should all fast for her friend to get better - and so we did. She loves her friend. We used the opportunity to talk more about fasting. We skipped dinner last night and both Madison and Brooklyn even wanted to skip breakfast this morning to get their two meals in.
I hadn't been home more than 10 minutes from dropping Brooklyn off at preschool when her teacher called. She said that Brooklyn told her she couldn't eat the snack because she was fasting, and the teacher wanted to make sure she was understanding everything correctly and that she respected our wishes. I explained about Madison's friend and how Brooklyn was excited to participate, but that I didn't really expect her to skip two meals. She could certainly have snacks if she chose to.
Madison also told her teacher that she was fasting for her friend and classmate. Her teacher said that was a very nice thing to do. Lunch, however, brought with it an entirely different response. Madison easily fasted all the way until lunch time and was quite happy to do it. She really loves her friend. We had talked earlier in the morning about saying a short, silent prayer before she ate to properly end her fast. She's not the least bit timid about praying in public - at restaurants, Disneyland, wherever.
As she lowered her head at her table, one of the school's staff [name reluctantly withheld] interrupted her by saying, "You stop it with the silly prayer thing."
I'm pretty steamed about this. I'm ready to launch a crusade. It would have been one thing to say, "I'm sorry Madison, but the courts have removed God from schools." But to belittle a six-year-old for something so innocent as asking a blessing on her food??? Nearly 85% of the country believes in some form of god. She wasn't baptizing her friends with sprinkles from her Juicy-Juice or preaching the four horsemen from her lunch table. Madison quoted this verbatim several different times this afternoon, so I don't think she's making it up. I told Madison I wanted to call the principal to talk about it and she freaked out, "No, please don't call the school. Then I'll get in even more trouble. That's what happened to *Jimmy* (not his real name). The same thing happened to him and his mom called the school and then that teacher got him in trouble for telling. Promise me you won't call."
This wasn't helping to calm my ire at all. However, I agreed to not call the school at this point. I do want to talk to Jimmy's parents just to corroborate Madison's story about their son. This may well be the feather that tips my scale. We allow Satan in schools, so why not God? Fair is fair, right? But that's not even what I'm upset about. I'm mad that an adult at Madison's school - an authority figure - a role model - took a position like that and would denigrate a small child that had not done anything wrong. Is Madison supposed to feel ashamed now? Is she supposed to apologize? Does the teacher believe she saved Madison from heading down the 'dangerous' path of a god-fearing person? Why could the teacher have been more like Brookie's teacher? A simple phone call - "Did you know your daughter prays? With your permission, I'd like to give her a switchblade and a pack of Camels so she doesn't start to think she's actually a good person."
Why do we, the 85%, allow the other 15% to dictate all of the rules. We're the ants in A Bug's Life. There are waaaaay more people on our side but we feel weak against our would be grasshopper oppressors. If we were to ever unite under a common cause, no prayer-hating lunch supervisor would stand a snowball's chance.
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I recounted to Madison the Old Testament story of Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-nego - three young men that were persecuted for praying. Brookie summed up the lesson nicely, saying that even if they're tossing her in the oven like Hansel and Gretel, she'll just keep right on praying.


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Peter, Peter Pumpkin Eater

Tonight was pumpkin carving time in preparation for Halloween. You may recall my disdain for pumpkins from last year's pumpkin post - "Jack"-o-lantern. I don't know whether something had changed chemically within my being to make me like pumpkins or if I've simply become a broken man. But there were several small details which indicate I may actually be learning to enjoy the process.

1. We bought multiple pumpkins
2. I specifically selected a pumpkin with a bit of character, instead of seeking out the perfectly round specimen like I always have in the past
3. I proactively sought out some potential ideas (thanks Google Images!) and let the kids vote on their favorite
4. I initiated the event with the kids - Sara wasn't even home (she was grateful for that)
5. Halfway in I realized that I had forgotten to don a pair of latex gloves to protect me from actual contact with the pumpkin guts - and I just shrugged it off
6. The pumpkin didn't smell nearly as unpleasant as past experience had suggested
7. I couldn't find any of our special carving tools but I persisted anyway with a paring knife

The winning design? Daddy's pumpkin eating Brookie's pumpkin!

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Perfect Timing

Brooklyn was a little off kilter. She was kind of cranky; a little morose; not herself. She just wanted to lay on the couch with her blanket or be held.

Generally, I try to keep the kids out of my office during traditional work hours, but Brookie was so docile that I let her stay in a sitting hug position on my lap while I worked. Then a meeting reminder popped up alerting me to my weekly touch-base meeting with my boss in 15 minutes. Brooklyn didn't want to leave and seemed to be nearly asleep. Since she was being so quiet and well behaved, I decided to let her stay. I explained that she needed to be extra quiet while I was on the phone with my boss, and that if she couldn't do that I would have to lock her out of my office.

She promised to be good.

And she was so good. She was so good I barely remembered she was even there. I had a good meeting. When it was over I thought Brooklyn must have fallen asleep, so I gently rubbed her back and softly asked if she was awake. She was. 

She pulled her head away from my shoulder, "Daddy, my tummy hurts."

"Does it feel like you need to go to the bathroom? Or do you feel like you're going to throw..."

Too late.

She got me. No point in trying to keep it from getting on me now. I was a human shield. I couldn't exactly stand up at this point to take her into the bathroom without dramatically increasing the risk of spilling the spew on the carpet, so I decided to board up and wait it out.

I repositioned Brookie slightly on my lap to form sort of a bowl/cup shape with our bodies to try to contain everything between us and not on my computer or the carpet. The idea worked surprisingly well. She erupted several more times, claiming to feel all better after each.

Finally she was empty. But I was then in an even worse position. I called out to Madison to bring me some towels. She, of course, first wanted to know why I needed them, then set out to locate the towel in the house that was furthest away from her.

I mopped up the mess in our laps and tossed our yucky clothes into the wash, then we both took quick showers to clean up.

I guess I just feel lucky that Brooklyn didn't explode five minutes sooner while I was still in my meeting. That would have been awkward. More so than being barfed on repeatedly.

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Problems with the Pink Princess

Madison, Brookie and I were reading a bedtime story last night, as we always do. We were snuggled side-by-side like sardines in one of their twin beds, as we always are. Madison selected Sleeping Beauty for her story, as she always does. It is well known within our home that Aurora is Madison's favorite Disney princess by far and without question. We read Sleeping Beauty a lot. We also read a spin-off book about "the glade" where Aurora and the prince first met. We also read yet another book about the prince's horse. When Madison's kindergarten class goes to the library, she brings home still more books about Sleeping Beauty. It's a disease, I think. Maybe just a disorder.

Consequently, I've spent a bit of time over the months and years pondering Disney's version of Sleeping Beauty, including her predicament and its resolution.

The plot revolves around a curse pronounced upon a baby Aurora by a sorceress who, understandably so, was not invited to the birth celebration. It seems to me the bulk of the problem and the blame lies with the three benevolent faeries that devise the plan to protect Aurora during the 16 years until the curse reaches its statute of limitation. [Said curse stating that Aurora, at some point between the birth celebration and her 16th birthday, will prick her finger on a spinning wheel and die as a result.] 

Aurora's dad, the king, immediately orders all spinning wheels in the kingdom destroyed. Makes sense. The faeries' plan is to hide Aurora inside of the hollowed out tree where they live, deep in the forest. The evil sorceress has a pet crow crony that can detect magic as it is performed, so the faeries vow not to use their magic during those 16 years, to prevent discovery of their whereabouts. Makes sense, too.

Everything goes well for 15 years and 364 days, then falls apart spectacularly. On that fateful day, which is the LAST POSSIBLE DAY that anything can go wrong, the wise faeries throw all caution to the wind and decide to do some magic, and, as luck would have it, the crow learns their location and tells his mistress. The faeries spill the beans to Aurora about everything and come out of hiding to journey back to the castle, still on the last possible day that things could run amok. Upon arriving safely at the castle, Aurora, a royal that has not been seen by her family for 16 years, is left completely unattended. No welcome by her parents. No ladies in waiting. No guards at the door. You know the outcome.

The faeries are, I believe, unjustifiably glorified within the Disney realm. Their plan was severely flawed from the start, but could have been perfected with one very simple modification.

What would have been the harm in allowing Aurora to believe her birthday was actually on the following day? Everyone could have gotten another good night's rest. The faeries could have sent Aurora out to pick berries AFTER she was already 16. They could have made their trek to the castle without fear. Surely the prince and Aurora's parents would have waited just one more day in order to insure her safety. 

Of course it all works out in the end, but why tempt fate?

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While we're on the subject, I also question some of the instruction given to Aurora by the faeries. Case in point - when she meets the (unbeknownst to her) prince in "the glade", Aurora refuses to give him her name. She tells him she shouldn't be talking to strangers. Then, the very next instant, she gives this person, who is only a few seconds less strange, her address and invites him over that evening to where she lives with three little old ladies. That's poor upbringing. 

Come to think of it, I think maybe a better solution from the very beginning would have been for the faerie Merryweather to bestow the gift of steel fingers upon the baby Aurora, thus negating any power once held by the sharp needle of a spinning wheel.

Business Up Front, Party in the Back

Unsupervised play time this week meant "beauty shop" for Madison and Brooklyn, Madison being smart enough to be the beautician and make Brookie be the customer, but not smart enough to realize how much trouble she would get into once the deed was done.

We've been allowing Madison a lot of freedom to do her "crafts" as she has demonstrated more responsibility. She tells us she wants to be an artist when she grows up. I suppose that is what helped her to feel comfortable sneaking some scissors from the cupboard.

For her part, Brooklyn was more than a willing participant. She's the one that came downstairs to show off her new do and in the process, blew the cover of the illegal hair cutting ring operating out of our toy room. The only things missing were some tattoos and unnaturally tan, leathery skin. Brookie has a mullet.

Both girls are presently locked out of the toy room - the crime scene - until Christmas Eve when all of the cousins will come over and we'll be forced to let them in. Madison has also lost all of her "craft" privileges until that same day. That was my punishment for them.

Sara's choice is psychological abuse every time they ask for anything. "No, because you cut Brooklyn's hair and now she looks like a hillbilly."

Madison also wanted to choose a punishment. She decided to institute a library-style system for their DVDs. Now, all of their movies are in a drawer in my office and they must check out one at a time and return it before getting another.

So far both girls seem rather indifferent to the entire situation. I'm not sure who's punishing who.

Student Becomes the Master

Like a lot of kids, Brookie has long had issues with hitting. She hits walls, toys, legs, Madison, herself, Karsten, and anything else within arm's length. I'm getting pretty tired of dealing with it.

Yesterday she hit Madison and made her cry. Madison cries until someone acknowledges that she is crying, and then she stops. Frustrated that time-outs, spankings, removal of privileges and banishment to the garage are failed strategies, I asked Madison, "Why don't you hit her back and see how she likes it?"

Madison started crying even harder, "No, no. I won't do it!"

"Why not? Maybe she'll learn to stop hitting you if she knows what it feels like."

"But Heavenly Father wouldn't be happy if I hit her back."

She's only five, yet she has already buried her weapons. Then there's dad, encouraging her to slug her little sister.

Macaronis et Fromage

Brookie wanted me to write about the Tour de Macaroni & Cheese she conducted during our vacation to Disneyland. You may not have known this about her, but Brookie has long been a connoisseur of that fine cheesy cuisine. If you've got her name for Christmas this year, a box of Kraft might make her the happiest kid in the room.

I can only think of one meal at which Brookie did NOT order mac and cheese. That was Monday night after the Parade of Dreams when we all went to a friendly little restaurant called Millie's, which was located just across the street from Disneyland on Harbor Blvd. Brookie got the cheese pizza and fries, just like the other kids. Madsion, however, DID order the macaroni and cheese, and I think they switched meals halfway through. I confess that I also ordered macaroni and cheese that night, but it was a more sophisticated version that included bacon, diced tomatoes and cilantro, plus a house salad - so it was okay for me.

I don't really care so much when the kid's menu is simple and the prices are inexpensive. For $4.99 they can order a corn dog or a grilled cheese sandwich or mac & cheese, it doesn't matter much to me. However, there were a few gooey meals that left me less than enthused with her customary selection.

Breakfast at the Pacific Wharf Cafe inside California Adventure

California Adventure has several interesting food production facilities located inside the park. For example, they grow grapes and press their own wine, much of which is used inside the parks' and hotels' own restaurants, and some is sold at retail. There is also a live Mission tortilla factory that we toured (and ate the free samples). Another such enterprise is a bakery, and this is what brought us to Pacific Wharf - Sara wanted cheese soup in a freshly baked sourdough bread bowl. Brookie ordered the usual, but at an unusually good price - $3.50. All was good until we opened up the kid's meal box. Her macaroni and cheese was in a container the size of those tiny little plastic bowls that you put pickles and banana peppers in at Quizno's. There were literally only like 15-20 noodles inside. In a price-per-noodle comparison, this may have been the most expensive of the trip.

Breakfast at Goofy's Kitchen

I briefly touched on some of the crazy items in the breakfast buffet at Goofy's Kitchen; peanut butter and jelly pizza, gummy worms, and ice cream. There is also an outstanding assortment of great food like waffles, french toast, made-to-order omelets and egg scrambles, breakfast potatoes, oatmeal with various toppings, cold cereals, pastries, fresh fruits, and... you guessed it, macaroni and cheese. Brookie did branch out a bit; apple juice, mac and cheese, and gummy worms. I can't complain though, since they considered her an infant and didn't charge us for her meal.

Lunch at Ariel's Grotto

For $18.00 I want to see something involving a decent-sized cut of what used to be a cow, grilled and seasoned to perfection. If the chef wants to throw in mac and cheese on the side, so be it. But 18 bucks for a kid-sized portion of that ubiquitous pasta made my stomach churn. As if that wasn't bad enough, Madison ordered the same thing. To add insult to injury, they didn't even save any for me. I can't say that I blame them for choosing the cheesy goodness - the alternatives were chicken nuggets or mini-corn dogs.

UPDATE: 10/17/08 - I was just cleaning up some papers on my desk and came across a copy of the kid's menu from Ariel's Grotto. Turns out the girls had an excellent selection including glazed chicken skewers, "meatball lollipops", and my favorite, a kid-sized tri-tip like I ate. In hindsight I should have had them order one macaroni and cheese and one tri-tip which could have been like a side dish for my main course tri-tip.