It’s Not Reindeer Sausage

Posted on December 24, 2013 by KB

Sunday night Zoe, Parker and I went to a Christmas gathering hosted by my mom’s Goddaughter and longtime family friend. It was a white elephant party, and I felt pretty good about what I was bringing.

First was a recorder. You know the kind- the instrument everyone tortures their parents with in the 4th grade?

Next was a KISS Pez dispenser.

And finally, A Justin Bieber Santa hat.

We brought 3 gifts, because Zoe and Parker wanted to participate in the gift exchange also. Kind of like the three Wise Men, without the wisdom or the men.

Right before dinner our hostess announced, “Just for full disclosure, these meatballs are half venison, half beef.”

I said, “Oh. I haven’t ever had venison before.”

She said, “Well if you’ve been eating any of that summer sausage over there, you have.”

I had eaten one piece, but Zoe had eaten several.

She wandered into the kitchen and I said, “So, that sausage over there? It isn’t beef.”

She said, “What is it?”

My friend said, “horse meat.”

Zoe’s eyes got huge.

I said, “She’s kidding. It’s not horse meat.”

“What is it?”

“Venison.”

Blank stare.

“You know that head hanging over there in the living room?”

She gasped.

“You liked it, it’s fine. A lot of people eat venison.”

My friend said, “This isn’t that deer. We ate that deer a long time ago.”

She wandered out of the room in a horrified daze.

Later, as we were filling our dinner plates she pointed towards a chafing dish and said, “Is any of this part horse meat?”

“None of it is horse meat.”

“Is it deer?”

The chafing dish contained mashed potatoes and vegetarian sausage.

“Nope.”

I watched her scoop two meatballs out of the crockpot, but said nothing. What you don’t know can’t hurt you, right?

After dinner we played the white elephant game. I attempted to explain the directions to Parker, but all he knew was there was a pile of gifts and he was going to get one of them.

I was number 1, so I got to go first.

I got a Magic 8 ball.

Parker was number 7.

His first choice ended up being a red lunch tote. He was not thrilled.

When someone stole the magic 8 ball from me, I stole the tote from him, so he could either steal or grab another gift. That’s the kind of nice mom I am, so when they try to tell you otherwise, remember this story.

For his second choice, my friend veered him in the direction of what turned out to be a giant footlong candy cane. We decided we might have to lock Parker and her 3 year old daughter in a room with the candy cane and the recorder to see what sort of mayhem might ensue.

But still Parker was unsatisfied. The allure of the unopened gifts, his insatiable greed left him discontent.

When my lunch tote was stolen, I took the candy cane from him so that he could get something else. I tried to talk him into grabbing a gift card. Someone offered him the recorder (NO!!!) and tried to tempt him with wooden puzzles. But no- there were untold treasures still wrapped.

As he reached for something my heart sunk. I knew it was a candle. I said a quick prayer that it would end up being a box of frangos (For my sake as much as his.) But no- my instinct was right. It was a candle. A very nice Yankee candle. But still- a candle.

Greed had made Parker a loser in the White elephant game.

Zoe had stolen a fuzzy blanket and Christmas mug from someone and was contentedly wrapped up. No one was going to attempt to take it from her.

My friend’s father -in-law got the Bieber hat, and proudly wore it the rest of the night. My mother got the KISS pez dispenser. She said, “Oh I love this!” And I said, “No you don’t.” I am expecting to see it reappear tomorrow morning somehow.

As the game came to a close, there were two remaining gifts that had been brought as extras in case someone forgot.

Parker didn’t feel the game could possibly be over with two remaining gifts. He had a great trouble accepting his fate.

He pulled his sweatshirt up over his head and pouted on the couch as people began to leave. He made some references to cheating, because in Parker’s mind, when something doesn’t go his way, someone must have cheated.

And then he turned on me, accusing me of stealing all his gifts.

I tried to explain that I did that to help him, to no avail. I told him he could keep both, I didn’t care, but there was no reasoning with him. So I left him on the couch.

After saying our goodbyes I went down the hall to my friend’s 3 year old daughter’s room, where she and Zoe had gone.

I opened the door and heard music. It was dark in the room and they were sitting on the floor in front of the tv.

“Are you watching ‘Little Mermaid?'”

The three 3 year old said in her tiny voice, “She want to watch ‘Bambi.'”

I looked at Zoe, who looked sheepishly back at me.

“Feeling a little guilty about eating deer? Watching ‘Bambi’ as penance?”

She didn’t answer, but continued to look chagrined.

As I walked out the door I couldn’t help but throw back, “It’s not like you were eating Rudolph.”

It’s little joys of parenting that sustain me.

Thank you to all of you who have supported me through these first 6 months of my blog. It means a lot.

I hope you all have a very Merry Christmas and here’s to a fantastic 2014!

I Wouldn’t Trade My Christmas Memories for a PS4

Posted on December 13, 2013 by KB

I’ve been transferring old family slides into digital format the past few weeks, and I’ve come across some real gems. One of the things that struck me, especially when looking at photos like the one above, is that I wasn’t imagining it… Christmas felt different back then. And I think I know why.

Look at the expressions on the faces of my sisters and I. (My sister Shannon is on the far right, Colleen is in the middle, and I am the blondie on the left.) Christmas held a wonder for us that I just don’t see in the faces of my kids. Gifts didn’t have to be extravagant to get reactions like this:

This picture is blurry, so I have no idea what she just opened, but I can tell you, it wasn’t a $500 video game system. When was the last time your kids responded like this? I can’t think of the last time mine did.

Parker wants a WiiU. We have a Wii, but the new games he wants can only be played on the WiiU. $300.

Nathan wants a PS4. He has an XBOX 360 and a PS3, but those are considered old junk now. $500…if you can find one.

Eventually, they also want an XBOX One. It’s not their first choice, but, after all, the 360 is sooo outdated, eventually we will HAVE to get a new system for all those games we have.$400.

And yet, when I think back over my life, most of my favorite gifts cost less than $25. The year I turned 20, I had a jerky boyfriend who wasn’t around on Christmas and I was pretty bummed. I am the youngest in my family, so when I went up to my parents’ house, it was just the 3 of us for the first time ever. It was pretty depressing. That was until I opened a gift that my mother had gotten for me- Molly Ivins’ book, “Molly Ivins can’t say that, can she?” I started reading and soon I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe. It saved me from the Christmas blues.

My childhood is filled with gifts that spurred my imagination and just looking at the pictures of them brings back memories of fun times. Some of these you may remember, some may be earlier than your time. These items represent my Christmases past.

What is more 70’s than an A-frame house? A turquoise and brown A-frame house. This toy reminded me of the cabins at the camp where my family spent a lot of my childhood, El Camino Pines near Frazier Park, California. We called it “Walton’s Mountain,” because much of the show was filmed up there.

Cabin in the background

Another “little People” set I loved was the Sesame Street neighborhood.

I spent hours re-enacting episodes.

Many girls my age wanted Easy Bake ovens, but I had to have the Holly Hobbie Easy Bake oven.

If I’m being honest, I’m not sure a lot of baking went on after this Christmas morning. I seem to recall eating dry cake mix a lot. (If I ever start a career as a rapper, that could totally be my rapper name- Cake Mix-a-lot)

I was a big fan of Holly Hobbie. I’m guessing that’s why in so many pictures I have come across, my sisters and I are wearing bonnets. That, and “Little House on the Prairie.”

I also loved Colorforms, and one year I got a Holly Hobbie Colorform set exactly like this:

I spent hours arranging different scenes.

I was also a Barbie girl. Most of my Barbie stuff I seem to recall came on my birthday, but I do remember one Christmas I got the Ballerina Barbie.

I got it from my great grandma Lulu. (Her name was Mildred, but she came from Honolulu. It was our way of distinguishing her from another Grandma- Grandma Mexico, who, you guessed it, went to Mexico on vacation one time.)

We spent that Christmas in Laguna at my grandparents’ house.My Grandma Charlotte (who was just “Grandma”) had hidden the gifts under her bed. I couldn’t contain my curiosity, so I snuck a peek, and discovered by stealthily pulling down one end of the wrapped gift what it was. I was excited for the Barbie, but that taught me a lesson- it’s no fun to pretend to be surprised when you’ve already ruined it for yourself. I never did that again. I believe that was Grandma Lulu’s last Christmas with us.

Another “last Christmas” memory is from my dad’s dad’s final Christmas before succumbing to cancer.

We knew he was ill, and so we made the trip to the Bay area of Northern California, and my mom’s side of the family came as well. We showed up on Christmas Eve to discover he had not decorated the house for Christmas. There was no tree. He had thrown away all of his ornaments.

We got in the car and drove around looking for an open lot, but they were all closed. My father eventually hopped a fence and stole a tree. We went to 7-11 and bought flocking spray and tinsel. We went back to his house, put up and flocked the tree, and decorated it with snowflakes we cut out.

Because there were so many of us, several slept out in the living room. It was like a giant family slumber party. I had trouble sleeping, so I stayed awake playing with my yes and no book.

( I liked to challenge myself by getting the books that said they were for older kids.)

I spent hours playing with these books. Hangman, trivia questions, dot to dot.

Mastermind was fun too, but you had to have someone playing it with you, and as the youngest I was on my own a lot.

Not that we didn’t also have electronics.

My first electronic toy was Alfie.

Alfie was amazing. He beeped and booped when he turned on. I could change the game card and play all different sorts of games. When I was right, he be-booped in celebration. When I was wrong he did the “beee-booooo” of a disappointed robot.

I didn’t get the Coleco football game, but my sister Shannon did, and I often stole it from her.

I could never play this now, those tiny red blinking dashes that represented my players would be nothing but a blur to my old eyes.

Another cool electronic game that I had a lot of fun with was “Merlin.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kX_wlcpNMaE

I don’t remember a lot about the games. I think there was tic tac toe, some sort of musical game, and I swear something like blackjack. Nothing like getting kids started gambling at a young age.

When they turned my favorite video game, into a watch, that hit the top of my list.

It wasn’t the most responsive game, and the buttons were tiny, but boy was it cool.

And then there was the Texas Instruments computer.

See that slot on the right? That’s where you put the “software” cartridges. I think mine came with TI Invaders, a knockoff of Atari’s Space Invaders.

Of course you didn’t need cartridges to play with this computer. It came with a programming code guide, so I taught it how to run programs that would guess math problems. All I had to do was copy the programs from the book and my parents and grandparents were amazed. Child prodigy, they said.

A few months later I was in our local Safeway (which also had laser discs for home rental at that time) and saw a bin filled with cartridges on sale. I bought myself the Alpine skiing game (it even had a yeti that would jump out. Strange, considering the yeti lives in the Himalayas and not the Alps).

Is that a buzzard flying across the screen?I never got this far

Notice the phenomenal graphics- In color!

Unfortunately for me, that sale bin was a sign of the end for the TI system. Within a year of getting it, they stopped making it and it’s accessories.

And then there was the Christmas of 1983.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9sOlIvx7Pvs

Cabbage Patch Kids. People were going out of their minds in the hunt for these dolls whose butts bore the autograph of their creator, Xavier Roberts.

I was one of a million girls that year who put a Cabbage Patch doll on my Christmas list. My parents tried in vain to locate one, with no luck.

My mom, never wanting to disappoint, somehow managed to find a woman who made look-alike dolls. When I opened it Christmas morning, I remember feeling a mix of emotions. It wasn’t a legit CPK, but I knew somehow that it was more special. It represented my mom’s heart, and I was thankful for that. I named her Charlotte Claire after both of my grandmothers.

My sister Shannon, a senior in high school, was working at a store called Sprouse Reitz. For those who have never heard of it, Sprouse was a small department and drug store.

Wayyyy before my time, but you get the gist.

This past Thanksgiving the topic of Sprouse came up, and my sister swore she is still in possession of the horrid brown polyester uniform she had to wear while working there. With her name tag still on it.

Anyway, the day after Christmas, she went into work and they had received an unexpected shipment of Cabbage Patch Dolls.

I could have one if I wanted one.

I agonized over the decision, because I didn’t want to hurt my mom’s feelings. She said she understood, but I just wasn’t sure. In the end, I did get one, but it was never as precious to me as the doll my mom had made for me.

I get a little sentimental when I think about those Christmases. I think about the year my parents couldn’t afford to buy me the outfit from Laura Ashley that I wanted, so my mom went and bought the pattern and sewed it for me. She even sewed in a piece of ribbon that said “Laura Ashley” so it would look like a tag.

I think about that ratty leftover Christmas tree that my dad hopped a fence to steal, that was decorated with paper chains and homemade snowflakes, but stood tall in the center of a room full of people I loved. Some of those people were gone within 5 years, and we never had a Christmas with everyone like that again.

I try really hard to create special moments for my kids, but in the end, it never is about the gifts under the tree that stick with you. Memorable moments can’t be choreographed with the perfect music and candlelight. They just happen.

If I Could Turn Back Time- Why Would I Turn It To 1991?

Posted on December 2, 2013 by KB

If you’re like me, this is how you looked after consuming your Thanksgiving meal.

Maybe it was the tryptophan. Maybe it was the pie that pushed me over the edge. Maybe it was that last Hallmark (Lifetime? Ion?) holiday movie about going back to your teen years to try to prevent the 17 year old you from making life-changing mistakes.

Whatever it was, I awoke on Black Friday from a crazy dream. And I haven’t been able to shake it.

In my dream, I was transported back in time to 1991. I wasn’t 1991 me, I was 2013 me, trying to navigate through one day. As I encountered each scenario, I realized how different the world was back then.

Small example- a friend walked up to me and asked me to take a picture of her with her boyfriend. I said, “Sure. Give me your phone.”

They stared at me like I was insane. Back in 1991 hardly anyone had cell phones, and No one had camera phones, much less smart phones.

Since I woke up from the dream, I have been trying to determine: why 1991? Why would my mind try to go back to 1991?

At the beginning of 1991, I was a freshman at the University of Washington.

I was dating a Marine, whom I had met the previous summer. As I had left for my high school graduation trip my mother said to me, “Two things I ask. One: Do not walk alone on a beach at night. Two: Do not talk to any Marines.” I met him walking alone on Waikiki Beach one night. (In my defense, he looked a little like Tom Cruise from “Top Gun” and one of the restaurants had “Take My Breath Away” streaming out of their speakers. )

In early 1991, my Marine boyfriend was in Kuwait when Operation Desert Shield became Operation Desert Storm.

The relationship ended in the summer of 1991. There were a lot of reasons it ended, the number one being I wasn’t in love with him. Oh, and he was a man-whore.

I don’t have any regrets about the ending of the relationship, so that certainly couldn’t be why my mind picked 1991.

I had a bad spiral perm that instead of looking like this:

looked like this:

(Unfortunately this is an actual picture of me)

In 1991 you could often find me sporting overalls.

overall shorts

overall dress

And of course, always…

overalls with one strap down.

I had my Kswiss shoes, gleaming white…

I sported my cross colors t-shirts

My shirt like this may be long gone, but my husband still occasionally looks at me and says, “Ya dig?” In fact, just last year, as we were playing “Draw Something” he sent me this:

This is his impression of the me he met in 1992.

However, I don’t think my mind would send me back to 1991 to right the wrong of my fashion choices. There are so many other eras that would also need correcting. (The 70’s bell bottom comeback of 1999 anyone?)

In 1991 I went from working at a greeting card store in downtown Seattle to working at a music store at Northgate mall. (Kids, once upon a time, you had to physically drive to the mall and go into a store that sold only cd’s and tapes in order to buy music. (oh tapes? That’s a whole other post. And don’t even get me started on ‘CASSINGLES’) )

I remember the first time I heard Nirvana’s “Nevermind.” We had gotten an advance copy at the store, and Roy, our resident audiophile, was quick to put it on.

Other Roy, not to be confused with Troy or assistant manager Roy.

Troy was our manager. He drove a Geo storm and got fired for embezzlement. He dated a girl with an identical twin and liked to make insinuations about that.

Roy was our assistant manager. He was from Ohio and constantly talked about how he went to college with Melina Kanakaredes.

Other Roy smelled like patchouli, owned a laser disc player and taught me everything I needed to know about the Seattle Grunge scene. (Did you know that Pearl Jam was named for Earl the Pearl because Eddie Vedder is such a huge basketball fan? And that originally they were named ‘Mookie Blaylock’ after

<<<<<<

but he didn’t like that so much, so he made them change it.)

Anyways, Seattle in 1991 was THE place to be for music. Sir Mixalot was hanging with his posse on Broadway getting ready to hit the world with “Baby got back,” Nirvana dropped “Nevermind,” Alice In Chains, Soundgarden and Pearl Jam were playing at local venues and everyone and their brother were forming bands.

I must admit that the first time I heard “Smells Like Teen Spirit” I wasn’t a fan. I listened to top 40 pop and R&B, and I thought it was just a bunch of noise. Since we played it round the clock in the store for about 2 weeks, though, I eventually came to like it. It was that or stab a hot poker in my ears.

But I don’t need to go back to 1991 for the music. I have a whole 90’s playlist on my iPod that I can listen to on demand.

George H W Bush was president. Rodney King was beat up by police, And the only computer I had access to was in the basement of my dorm building where we would go into “chat rooms” to talk to people.

I made choices that year that maybe I’d like to undo. I didn’t go to class as often as I should have. I changed my major 3 times. (I’m going into political science and I’m going to be a lawyer! No wait- I’m going to double major in communications and atmospheric science. I’ll be a weather girl! oh, I have a D- in atmospheric science. Probably should have gone to class more than 3 times. I guess I’ll be an English major since those are the only classes I actually like. I’ll figure out later what to do with an English degree. (Hint- you’re reading it))

I made poor relationship choices. Would I tell 1991 me, “No, probably not a good idea to date a guy with no job and a soon-to-be baby mama “ex”-girlfriend.” ? Would it matter?

In the holiday movie I watched, 2013 Kristin realized it didn’t matter what she told young stubborn Kristin, she was going to do it anyways. And also, if you change something in your past, good or bad, it changes a little of who you are. Maybe it changes a lot of who you are.

If…Then…

We are the culmination of our life’s experiences. The best lesson I can take from this dream is that 20 plus years from now I may have another dream, remembering back to 2013. The choices I make today may be the regrets of tomorrow, or they may be integral parts of the tapestry of my life as a 61 year old woman. I need to make today count.

Oh, and never get a perm again. Ever.

A Mongoose Isn’t A Bird- The Trip That Keeps On Giving (Hawaii Part 4)

Posted on November 14, 2013 by KB

I have a confession to make. I’m getting senile. It’s only been a month since our trip to Hawaii and already many of the stories and events are fading. I wrote myself some notes and I found myself staring at them this morning trying to decipher what in the world I was talking about. Honestly, they look like the ramblings of a mad woman.

So, I will do my best today to remember what the heck it all means.

Way back in Zoe’s birthday post http://kbjackson.com/a-turtly-awesome-10th-birthday-hawaii-part-2/ I failed to mention something that happened at dinner that night.

We were seated at a long table, Zoe of course at the head. I was next to Zoe, and my brother and sister in-law were at the other end, so I often had to strain to hear the conversations going on. At one point Brooke, my sister-in-law, was telling a story about a mongoose.

Over Parker’s head I said to Jeff, “What’s she talking about?”

He said, “A mongoose.”

I said, “You know a mongoose is a bird, right?”

He gave me a strange look, but said nothing.

The next day the topic of the mongoose came up again. Jeff said, “You know a mongoose isn’t a bird.”

“Yes it is. I think it’s a white bird with a long neck.”

“No. It isn’t. A mongoose is a rodent.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. Google it.”

And so I did.

This is a mongoose:

I have no idea what I was thinking is a mongoose, but this wasn’t it.

Of course, because I am RARELY ever wrong about ANYTHING, this became great fodder for my family.

The day after we went to the Polynesian Cultural Center http://kbjackson.com/who-let-the-dogs-out-hawaii-part-3/ Jeff stayed back at the hotel with Parker and Nathan, while Toni, Sydney, Zoe and I went back up to Kualoa Ranch. http://www.kualoa.com/

Sydney was a big fan of “Lost” and one of her birthday requests while we were there was to do a “Lost” site tour.

It turns out that our tour guide wasn’t a big fan of “Lost” and therefore didn’t focus a lot on it. There are a ton of shows and movies that have been filmed on this property, and in fact the other day while I was in bed sick and catching up on “Hawaii 5-0” Zoe and I noticed that they were showing scenes filmed in the World War 2 bunkers we had gone into on the tour.

Zoe in a bunker

Sydney gets “Lost” in the bunker (He looks pretty annoyed with her)

During the tour, our guide talked about the history of the ranch, its WW2 occupation by the Navy, and how it became a popular location site for filming.

She also brought up the mongoose. I could see Sydney smiling out of the corner of my eye as the guide told us how the mongoose came to be in Hawaii. I tried not to make eye contact.

Hawaii has a rat problem. Some time back some dude thought he would solve the rat problem by bringing in a predator- the mongoose. The trouble was, the rats come out at night and the mongoose (mongeese?) come out in the day time. And never the twain shall meet. Now Hawaii has a rat problem AND a mongoose problem. And now I know more about the mongoose than I ever hoped to know. At this point it’s in contention for my least favorite animal.

When we got back from the bus tour we noticed the hundred and one had arrived- but they were all going on the horseback riding tour. Trying to navigate that crowd was like a salmon swimming upstream.

We headed back down into Waikiki and made plans for dinner. We decided to take the trolley, which is pretty convenient and only $2/person. Unfortunately it was a busy night because 2 full trolleys came by before we were able to squeeze onto what would turn out to be the greatest bus ride any of us have ever taken. About 5 minutes into the ride, our driver said that he thought we needed a little spark to get us going. He turned up the volume and began playing “Celebration” by Kool and the Gang. As we drove he would start and stop to make the trolley “dance.” At one point, he started calling out people who weren’t singing. Parker thought this was all terrifying, while Zoe thought it was the greatest thing ever.

Once “Celebration” was done, he moved on to “YMCA.” Most of the trolley was doing the hand motions. Even people on the street were doing it as we waited at a stop light. At one point, a woman on a bus next to us seemed to have some sort of breakdown because she was angrily pointing and yelling at us in Japanese.

There is video of this fun ride, however Sydney’s privacy settings on her Facebook account won’t allow me to show it. I attempted to screen shot the driver and although these pictures are hazy, you get the gist.

Our driver clapping and dancing

The light turned but he still managed to make the Y in YMCA

We rode the trolley several times during the course of the trip. Every other time the driver stayed silent except to announce stops. Which just goes to show- Your attitude about life can turn an ordinary bus ride into an event to remember.

The next day we drove out to Hanauma Bay to go snorkeling. All the pamphlets said “get there early,” but we had no idea that meant like 8am. We arrived around 930, only to be told we couldn’t even pull into the parking lot, it was full. They told us to come back and try again in 20 minutes. We headed down the highway another few minutes until we reached a lookout point. It was spectacular.

We headed back up to the entrance to the parking lot and were allowed in. I had been concerned we were never getting in.

They take people down in groups, following a short video that explains about the bay, what you will see there and how to preserve the fragile ecosystem of the bay. It’s a pretty long hike down, or you can pay to have a tram take you.

Even on a Wednesday in October that place was busy. We found a spot to settle in.

For months Parker had talked about going snorkeling. He’s been snorkeling in our bathtub with a mask, practicing. So when the day finally came…

He was ready.

Until he put his face in the ocean.

He didn’t like the flippers, and the waves freaked him out. He ended up hanging right around the edge of the water, never going too far.

He missed out. Somewhere we have an underwater camera with undeveloped pictures that Zoe took. I have seemingly misplaced it. You’ll have to take my word for it- the fish were amazing.

We spent an awful lot of time in the car on this trip. As a result there were a lot of random conversations. At one point Zoe decided we should start a family band. She put her father as lead singer, which made absolutely no sense, as he couldn’t hold a tune in a bucket. I think she assigned Parker the triangle.

Sydney said I should cover all of today’s hits and call it “Mom Bop.”

My taste in music was challenged at one point, so we ended up putting on the Disney Pandora station. This led to a whole conversation about the Little Mermaid, and her voice, and what kind of bargain it was to give up your voice to get the guy.

Jeff said, “It would be worth it.”

He just likes the idea of a pretty woman with no voice.

And I think he likes the idea of me with no voice.

My mother-in-law was trying to understand my family at one point. My dad has two children from his first marriage, my mom has two from hers. They got married, and had me.

“Oh, so you’re the only only?”

Well, did my husband have a field day with that comment. “Oh, she’s the only only all right. Between Zoe, who calls herself ‘the awesome’ and Miss ‘Only only’ over here, you can see what I’m dealing with.”

For the rest of the trip Zoe and I were referred to as “The awesome and the only only.”

Haters are gonna hate, what can I say?

We saw a lot of sites, went to a lot of events, but in the end the true memories were made on those car rides, in silly conversations and unplanned moments.

I promise I only have one more Hawaii post planned. It was Parker’s birthday and it was a day to remember. There was Mickey Mouse, a shirtless man throwing flaming swords and I got a tattoo. What more could an 8 year old ask for?

He really just wanted me to get a picture of the woman behind him

Who Let The Dogs Out? (Hawaii Part 3)

Posted on November 4, 2013 by KB

My husband captioned this photo, “Many levels of suspicion”

I’m back with another installment of our Hawaii trip. If you’re getting bored with these, don’t worry, there are only about 5 more to go. I could say I’m kidding, but I’m not. If I can survive the trip, you can survive these posts.

The day after Zoe’s birthday I suggested we head up the other side of the island to see the Polynesian Cultural Center. The kids had complained that Waikiki didn’t feel very “Hawaiian” so I thought this was a great opportunity to experience the culture.

The drive was amazing. Where the trip to Haleiwa had been sparse in vegetation, this side of the island was lush. As we drove along the coast, I spotted “Hat island.” Hat island isn’t really Hat island. The Hawaiian name is Mokoliʻi, which means “little lizard.” The belief was that in a great battle between the goddess Hiʻiaka and a dragon, the dragon’s tail was cut off and this is what remains:

However, due to the fact that it resembles a traditional Asian hat many refer to the island as “Chinaman’s hat.” So much for being PC.

As we pulled into the parking lot to the beach area with the best view of the island, we also noticed a large site called “Kualoa Ranch.”

Sydney said, “These mountains look a lot like ‘Lost.'”

I said, “Well I know that ‘Lost’ was filmed somewhere on the island.”

I took her picture, as she pretended to be “Lost.”

She’s even eating a banana like she would in the jungle.

I made the comment that the mountains reminded me of “Mighty Joe Young,” the movie about the giant gorilla starring my husband’s #2 favorite hottie Charlize Theron. (#1? Scarlett Johansson in case anyone is keeping track.) To which Nathan replied, “You’re a giant gorilla.”

One of us was right. The other was Nathan. Turns out Kualoa Ranch is the filming site of many movies and television shows, including “Mighty Joe Young.”

After a couple more pics in front of the island…

We all piled back in our giant rental vehicle and headed north. We noticed that there were a lot of signs protesting expansion and development of the area. With as lovely as everything was over there, I can see why they would want to protect it.

When we finally pulled into the parking lot for the PCC we were relieved to see the parking lot was pretty empty, except for a few tour buses. There was a bit of a scuffle under the plumeria trees as we lathered the sunscreen on everyone.

For those who don’t know, the Polynesian Cultural Center http://polynesianculturalcenter.com is a living museum/sort-of theme park owned and operated by the LDS (Mormon) church. The majority of employees are students of BYU-Hawaii and they work for scholarship money.

While there is mention of the purpose of the park, there are no overt “conversion” attempts, it really is simply a tribute to the various Polynesian cultures.

The park is designed with each unique country having their own space to highlight their housing styles, traditions, music, clothing, etc. We didn’t know where to start, but Parker insisted on heading for the canoe rides. There is a river that flows through each “country” and a tour guide talks a bit about them as you pass by.

We got to the canoe area and there was a large group already there. An employee came over to us and said, “How many of you are there?”

We told him 7.

He said, “The wait is going to be a little bit. We had a hundred and one Chinese show up in a tour bus.”

He suggested we go see the Samoa presentation that was about to start, and come back after they had gotten the “hundred and one” through on the canoes.

For the entire rest of our trip the phrase “the hundred and one” became code for large groups of tourists. As in, “We’d better make a reservation, otherwise we may get stuck behind the hundred and one.” Or, “I didn’t want to wait in the bathroom line. The hundred and one were there.”

We headed over to Samoa, and were stopped by a man with no shirt, a grass skirt and calves that were mesmerizing. I’ve never seen calves that muscular. Neither had Zoe, who leaned over and started whispering, “Do you see his…” before I shushed her. They were in the process of raising the Samoan flag and singing their national anthem.

The show consisted of Mr. Amazing Calves husking and shucking a coconut, all the while making funny jokes about the tourists watching. He is multi-lingual, and spoke to people in their own languages throughout. He is no longer a student, he was a fine art major who now sells his paintings in the Samoa souvenir shop and spends his days doing coconut demonstrations. Oh, and he showed us how to make fire.

They have hands on demonstrations for people to try at each “village” including fire making, hula lessons, basket weaving, etc. The kids can get a stamp in their “passport” and at the end, if they have completed all the tasks, they get a prize from the gift shop at the front of the park. My kids were interested in the prize, but not enough to try all the activities.

After Samoa we went back to the canoe ride, where the top photo was taken. The hundred and one had already cleared out, so the wait was short.

When we’d finished the canoe ride, the natives started getting hungry. By natives I don’t mean the people working at the park, I mean my kids. We found a spot to settle in to watch the parade of islands on the river front while Sydney and I went off to find food to bring back. By the time we got back, Jeff and the kids were surrounded by the hundred and one.

Can I just say: yes, your skin is lovely, but is it really necessary to put up umbrellas to shield your face from the sun while those behind you are trying to see over and around you? A couple rays so that you don’t block everyone’s view isn’t that much of a sacrifice.

My husband was a little shocked that I actually patted one of the women on the shoulder asking her to take the sunbrella down. At least I was nice about it.

Each island had their own float, where they wore traditional costumes, and did their own traditional dances and songs. After watching them all, I’d have to say the Tongans are the ones I would want to party with. They definitely seemed to be the most fun of the bunch. The New Zealanders (Aoteroa) were the most subdued. I found myself thinking my pale freckled face may say “Irish” but my body says “Polynesian.” I love that the Polynesian women are curvy and not skinny- except Tahiti. Those girls were by far the thinnest. I loved their outfits and they certainly know how to shake their non-existent hips. I could never make it in Tahiti.

The Tongans

We decided that we were up for one more show, so we headed to Tonga.

The Tongan show was a drum show, and after doing some demonstrations, they dragged 3 men down to participate. The first was a white guy from San Francisco. the second was a black man from Miami. The third was a man from Japan.

The show was quite entertaining. One by one they took each guy and had them mimic their drumming. The Tongan guy would drum, then the participant would follow, attempting to replicate it. The drumming would get more complicated each time, and then they added some yells in Tongan. When the guy from Miami got up there, he was keeping up pretty well. When he got to the last set, the Tongan guy did a complicated drum beat and then yelled a very long sentence in Tongan. The guy from Miami stopped, looked at him, drummed something totally different and shouted, “Who let the dogs out?!?”

The crowd roared with laughter.

At the end of the show, Jeff came over to where I was sitting with Zoe and said, “Parker wants to get his autograph.”

Confused, I said, “The performer?”

“No. The ‘Who let the dogs out’ guy.”

I laughed. “Of course he does. ”

After some prompting on Parker’s part, Jeff, totally mortified, walked over with Parker to ask for Miami’s autograph.

Suddenly there was a huge eruption of laughter from everyone surrounding Parker.

By the time I got over there, Jeff’s face was beet red.

I said, “What happened?”

“Parker threw me under the bus, that’s what happened. We got over there and Parker said, ‘My dad wants your autograph.'”

I looked at Parker, who had a sheepish look on his face.

Parker’s “Autograph”

Zoe decided she wanted an autograph also, but she went for the shirtless Tongan guy. Not a bad choice.

We walked towards the exit and Parker said to me, “What does it mean that daddy wants to throw me off the bus?”

“Not OFF the bus. UNDER the bus. You threw daddy under the bus. It means that you talked daddy into going over there with you and then said he was the one who wanted the autograph.”

This phrase has been used by him many times since; Usually out of context and not worded correctly. But if you hear Parker talking about throwing people on, off or under the bus, you’ll know where it’s coming from.

Funny thing- the next day Jeff and Parker went to the hotel pool and who did they see?

You got it- Mr. Who let the dogs out guy.

Out of all the hotels on Oahu where he could have been staying- he was at ours.

I said, “Did you say anything to him?”

“No I was hoping he didn’t recognize us.”

Later that day they got in the elevator. Who was in it? You guessed it.

Parker had given Jeff a gift that just kept on giving.

Coming soon- The celebration bus, the mongoose, the awesome and the only only

Happy Halloween!

Posted on October 31, 2013 by KB

Peter Pan, Men in Black and Eloise

Today’s post is nothing but some of my favorite costume pics. Some of you submitted some great pics. Most of you completely ignored my request. That means more pics of my kids. Your welcome.

Going retro for this little Swiss Miss and her “Native” friend.(That’s my mother on the left)

Sydney’s first real Halloween. Why yes, I did hand make those “ears”

This is me and my “Mother Nature.” I am some sort of knight I believe. The beauty of tinfoil.

Sam’s son Beck is a ninja. With that avocado and the butcher knife, he looks more like a “fruit ninja” to me.

One of my all-time favorites. Sydney as Gandalf the Grey, and her friend Alex as Aladdin

Melissa’s boys as Curious George and the Man in the Yellow Hat. Seriously adorable.

I don’t know this man, but I have been trying for months to convince my husband to dress as Khaleesi from Game of Thrones

Nathan as Anakin Skywalker, Zoe as Minnie Mouse, parker as Tigger and Sydney as Marilyn Monroe

Leslie’s boys as cat burglars. They will take your candy when you’re not looking

Alex as a whoopie cushion, Matt as a samurai warrior and Sydney as a very blonde Dorothy

Zoe and Rylie as cats. Not the Jellicle kind. (For more info see http://kbjackson.com/cats-you-either-love-them-or-hate-them/ )

We have a few Harry Potters

She’s actually technically not Harry, but “Luna”

“Recycled Harry Potter”

“Harry Potter doesn’t Smile”

Deedee Doodle Moe Doodle and A Storm Trooper? As you can tell from the Doodlebops costumes, this was a difficult time in my life.

Knight, Cheshire Cat and Tinkerbell

Extra Super Superheroes

The year Parker started embracing his inner villain.

A couple years ago, he decided he wanted to go as Doofenschmirtz from “Phineas and Ferb.” But he couldn’t just go as Doofenschmirtz, he had to go as “2nd Dimension” Doofenschmirtz.

hard to be afraid of these two clowns

Mitt Zombie (a 2012 classic)

Wonder Woman

My hottie mother circa 1979

Pebbles Flintstone

A very serious Man in Black

Will always be one of my favorite pictures. Ever. Parker refused to wear the legit Harry Potter glasses. Those are Nerf gun glasses. Zoe as Bethany from Soul Surfer

Last night’s soccer practice was lots of fun

Notice the Coach- Robin. As he went to block a goal in their scrimmage and missed with the slide tackle he called out “If I had been Batman I would have stopped the ball!”

Happy trick or treating tonight! And stay safe!

A Turtly Awesome 10th Birthday In Parrotdise (Hawaii Part 2)

Posted on October 28, 2013 by KB

In my hurry to get part one written, I missed a couple of things, as well as several typos. So allow me to back up a bit before we venture into Zoe’s birthday.

Saturday after I got back from the store I suggested we head down to the International Marketplace. I was bummed to find out that the marketplace, one of my favorite places to go in Waikiki, is slated to be closing at the end of the year. Rumor has it, it will be replaced by a store I would be uncomfortable shopping in, like Sak’s 5th Ave.

We walked down the beach instead of the sidewalk because I thought it would be a more scenic route than on the street. Jeff started seriously regretting his agreement to tag along. Zoe and Parker were having a difficult time resisting the urge to go into the water and walking on sand is deceptively difficult.

About halfway down the beach, we came across a man with a parrot stand. He had all sorts of tropical birds, and he was selling the opportunity to be photographed holding them in front of Diamondhead. His business? “Parrotdise Hawaii.” Get it? Parrotdise. Zoe and Parker were intrigued, but a little skittish. The man was very patient and he convinced them to go along with these shenanigans.

He positioned them in the right spot, and then began placing birds on them.

See this man in the dark pants? He and his wife (right behind him) stopped to check out what was going on. Soon, the man began taking pictures of the man positioning the kids.

And just when I stepped out of range, missing what was surely to be my favorite picture of the day, the man shooed his wife into the scene, she popped up behind the kids and he snapped her picture. With my kids holding parrots.

The parrot man shouted something at them in Japanese and made them leave. I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe. They only looked mildly chastised, mostly smug. I’m not sure if they just wanted pictures of the birds, or if it was a photo that would be captioned “look at these silly Americans paying money to hold a parrot.”

On my first trip to Hawaii when I was 10, my mom , my older sisters Shannon and Colleen and I were in the water at Waikiki beach when we noticed three Japanese men swimming in their tighty-whities and their white undershirts. One had a camera, and we noticed that the other two kept inching closer and closer to us so that the man with the camera could take a picture. Eventually they made enough charade-type hand gestures asking my mom if they could have their picture with us. So somewhere in Japan, someone has this photo. Not sure what they did with it, or the story they told their friends when they got back home.

The parrot man did a great job with the kids. The bird on Parker’s shoulder kept trying to eat his hair, and Zoe’s kept resting its head on her face. If you’re ever on Waikiki, it’s a fun way to get pics.

When we finally made it to the International Marketplace, Zoe was lured in by the Maui Divers booth, with their hairy oysters and pretty girls shouting “Aloha!” as excited customers waited to see what treasure was held within the slimy guts. We watched for a bit and then moved on, with Zoe glancing back longingly.

She talked me into getting her a fresh pineapple juice to drink- out of a pineapple. It was pretty sour, and the pineapple isn’t the easiest to lug around.

Parker got bored by the whole thing pretty quickly. The only thing he was interested in was a wooden tiki mask.

I said to Jeff, “Hey, if you want, there is a trolley that you can catch back to the hotel. Zoe and I can finish here and you can go now.”

Jeff responded, “That’s the smartest thing I’ve heard you say all day.”

After the boys left, Zoe, Grandma Toni and I went back to the pearl kiosk. Zoe had watched another lady do negotiations, so she walked up to the girl and said, “I want to make a deal.”

She laughed in surprise and said, “well, what kind of deal are you looking to make?”

Zoe said she wanted to do two oysters for $6 instead of one for $12, and that she planned on making jewelry. She doesn’t get her negotiating skills from me.

So she looked over the oysters, and after long perusal, decided on two. She did the requisite tap 3 times, then made a wish and shouted “Aloha!”

The first oyster revealed twin purple-black pearls. The second was a giant white pearl. Although she loves turtles, she ended up putting the white pearl in a plumeria pendant. When the salesgirl discovered that Zoe’s birthday was the next day, she told her to pick one more oyster as her gift. It was another white pearl. It was a fun early birthday present.

Sunday the 13th was Zoe’s 10th birthday. When she woke up, she got to open her gifts and I made her requested breakfast of French toast and bacon. We had orange juice and POG (Passion orange guava juice) and fresh sliced pineapple.

After opening her gifts, we all got ready and loaded into the car for the journey up to the North Shore.

Our first stop was the Dole Plantation. I have a large fondness for the dole whip pineapple floats. We didn’t spend a lot of time there, but while we were there, this happened…

And then there was a bit of a scuffle. Check out Zoe’s face in the background of the pictures…

Nathan continued his attempt to avoid a single photo being taken of him during the entire vacation…

Sydney got in touch with her inner child and her inner Ariel (Little Mermaid) by singing “Part of your world” like she used to when she was 2…

And Zoe copied her big sister.

We then made our way further north to Haleiwa, the small surfing town my brother and his family have lived in for over 15 years.

They live on what used to be a taro farm, and their dream is to once again make it a working taro farm. Farm living in Hawaii means geckos crawling all over your property

Papaya trees

And bananas by the boatload… (Cue the “Banana boat Song”: Come Mr Tally man, tally me bananas)

We stopped by the store and grabbed food before heading the beach, Puaena point. This was definitely not a tourist beach.

Zoe’s dream was to learn to surf and swim with the sea turtles, and on her 10th birthday, that dream came true.

My brother, who has been surfing since he could walk, now exclusively does stand up paddle surfing. It’s a lot more difficult than it looks. For me, at least. The more coordinated among us got up on the board fairly easily.

Zoe and my brother Billy, who prefers to be called Bill, but I simply CANNOT.

The swells were starting to come in, so the bay, which is flat and calm in the summer, was starting to be a little choppy. Nothing compared to what’s coming this winter, when the swells will reach epic proportions and Haleiwa will become flooded with surfers from around the world in search of dream waves.

Sea turtles were everywhere. In Hawaii, they call them honu. They swam right under the board as she paddled around. When she was out swimming in the waves, turtles were swimming all around her.

Nathan did pretty well on the paddle board as well.

Hopefully the pictures of me falling over never see the light of day. I know they exist, and I believe they are being reserved to be held against me some day.

looking for crabs

Loading up and heading out

After the day at the beach, we headed back to the farm to get cleaned up. We had sand in all sorts of places which will not be mentioned.

My brother, his wife Brooke, and the rest of us went to a place right by the water called Haleiwa Joe’s. It was delicious. We had appetizers coming out our ears. Mahi-mahi, Ahi, Kalbi ribs. Zoe ordered herself a filet mignon. Why not? It was her birthday.

She finished her day with paradise pie, a takeoff on mud pie.

It was a birthday to remember, that’s for sure!

Coming soon… Hawaii part 3… Who let the dogs out at the Polynesian Cultural Center?

Thanksgiving- It’s Not Just For November

Posted on October 25, 2013 by KB

I was planning on posting Hawaii part 2 today, but following some of the responses I got from part one, I thought it was important to take a moment to talk about something I have been giving a lot of thought to recently.

In my last post I talked about “wherever you go, there you are.” I wanted to clarify that a little bit, along with making some difficult confessions.

I love my kids. I love my kids beyond what I can put into words. I truly believe that our children are a direct result of our parenting. Do they have their own brains and free will? Of course. But unless there is a mental illness that is affecting a child’s behavior, how they behave is on us.

Is my kid throwing a fit? Chances are: they are overtired. Or hungry. Or they are irritable because I’m stressed and that tension is creating tension within them.

Is it fair of me to yell at my kids for dragging their feet and making us late if I know that I could have woken them up a few minutes earlier, or given them more warning before we needed to leave? One of my most shameful recent parenting moments came when I was mad at Zoe because she wasn’t getting ready for soccer fast enough and she wasn’t listening to me. I was late picking her up from her friend’s house. Did she dawdle? Sure. But if I hadn’t been late, I wouldn’t have had to put so much pressure on her.

It’s funny how magnified a family dynamic is when everyone is forced into a confined space for an extended period of time. I don’t believe our trip caused problems, I believe it revealed issues that were already there.

At home, everyone goes off into their own space. If they can’t get along, they separate. Nathan goes into the movie room to play video games. Zoe goes to find a friend in the neighborhood to play with. Parker zones out on the kitchen computer. Jeff works a lot and Sydney spends an awful lot of time at church. Me? I go in my room and “do laundry” which can also mean catching up on my shows that I have on DVR, reading a book, playing candy crush on my phone.

The point is, we’ve found a way to cope with our issues, but haven’t actually addressed them.

What was disappointing and frustrating about our trip was that in all that togetherness, these issues were staring me straight in the face. And it made me very sad.

Here we were, on an expensive vacation in Hawaii, the kids were skipping school, my husband and I only had a minimal amount of work to do during the week, there were birthday gifts, nonstop activities, and yet still- tantrums, fussing, complaining, bickering. And it broke my heart.

I won’t go into specific details about who was complaining or fighting about what. We all had our moments. My point is that it was a huge wakeup call for me.

I must confess- I have overindulged my kids. I haven’t given them enough opportunities to see the needs of others. It’s not that I don’t know that giving your kid pretty much anything they ever want isn’t a great parenting strategy. I think in the moment, you tell yourself, “It will just get them off my back right now” or “this is it, no more.” And then it never is, because they have a clever way of asking when your resistance is down. Or they use techniques they picked up from watching YouTube videos of cold war-era KGB interrogations and mind control. Either way, it’s always “just one more…” whatever.

Don’t get me wrong- my kids are good kids, they have just developed some pretty bad habits, and I haven’t done enough to curtail them.

Sydney and I were talking and she said, “I’ve noticed that you and dad get over things really quickly. Which is good, because that means you don’t hold grudges. But it also means you never deal with those things.”

She’s right. We aren’t big grudge holders. We usually understand that something said out of hunger or fatigue or stress isn’t worth creating long term conflict. And when you apply that to parenting, I can see how, although I think it’s a positive thing that we aren’t constantly bringing up our kids’ past mistakes, it also can allow bad behaviors to become bad habits over time.

When Zoe is snippy with me because she’s tired, I can forgive her for her snippiness, but also teach her that it doesn’t excuse disrespect and back talk. If Parker is misbehaving because one of his siblings is causing him frustration, I can be understanding about why he is frustrated, yet still train him on better ways to handle his emotions.

I have 3 Libras in my house. I’m not into astrology for Biblical reasons, but I can tell you there’s something to people who are born at certain times of the year and personality traits. I can’t explain it, but I know it’s true. I’m a late May birthday and nearly every significant relationship and/or friendship in my life are people born in May and June, late September and October.

People born in October (Libras) are born under the constellation of the scales. Supposedly they are all about justice and fairness. Which is why I find myself constantly mitigating disputes, being asked to decide who is right and who is wrong, Or, often, who has been wronged, and whether the appropriate punishment is what the “victim” is requiring me to dole out. My husband has actually referred to me as Judge Judy on several occasions, although I believe he’s using it more as a pejorative term . (I tend to be a pretty black and white thinker.)

Because there are 4 children in my house (although I don’t really count Sydney anymore since she’s 19) I spend a lot more time peacemaking for a moment than teaching for a lifetime. I parent in survival mode. As a result, real training gets missed.

The only cure for selfishness, constant dissatisfaction and discontentment, is gratitude. Thankfulness. Thankfulness and gratitude come from perspective. I haven’t given my children enough opportunity to gain perspective by seeing outside of themselves, their comfortable, affluent community, and understand that there are real needs out there- and they have nothing to do with whether you have a WiiU or not.

Yesterday morning, in my near breakdown state, I told Zoe and Parker, “Do you realize that there are people who have real things to complain about? They are hungry, they are homeless, they are ill. And guess what? They complain a whole lot less than you guys do.”

After speaking with my husband yesterday morning, we agreed- this is all on us. And it’s up to us to fix it. Not from the bottom up, but from the top down. We must lead by example. We must change the focus of our priorities, treat each other with respect (we tend to operate in sarcasm) and create opportunities for our kids to look outside themselves.

I asked Zoe and Parker to come up with 5 things they are grateful for and one way we can help others. Zoe had some great ones, Parker could use a little guidance. He told me he’s thankful that he’s so awesome.

Rome wasn’t built in a day, folks.

Hawaii part 2 is coming, I promise. And there’s some great stuff. It is a lot easier to write about the trip now that I know we are creating a plan to improve those things that didn’t go so well. Until then, I will leave you with this thought…

Aloha And Goodbyeha (Hawaii part 1)

Posted on October 22, 2013 by KB

Remember the old days when your neighbor would go on a family trip and when they got home you would be subjected to a 3 hour slide show of their vacation photos?

No? You must have been born after 1990 then.

See, children, back in the olden days, we used cameras that took something called “film.”

(Paul Simon wrote a song about it:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wZpaNJqF4po )

And no, our cameras were not a featured application on our non-existent cell phones, but a separate unit designed for nothing other than taking pictures.

Unless you had a Polaroid camera, which shot out instant photos, you had to take your dozen film canisters into your local camera shop or drug store to have them developed. This could take anywhere from a few days to a couple weeks. One hour photo came along in the 80’s, but you’d end up spending about $20 to develop a roll of 24.

When people went on a big trip where they took lots of pictures, they often had them developed into slides. Slides were film negatives placed into a cardboard frame. Often they came in round carousels like this:

and then the images would be projected up onto a screen or a wall. Or, often, a bed sheet.

I remember several of these occasions. Hours of the Black Forest in Germany, Big Ben, giant palm trees, the same faces over and over positioned in front of different monuments and statues.

Although I have just returned from a week long trip to Hawaii, I have no intention of subjecting you all to a mind numbing virtual slide show. I will be including photos to go along with the stories, but will try to limit them to the most relevant. I’m breaking down the trip into bite-sized morsels (several posts), because, as was reinforced on this trip, people today have little to no attention span. No wonder twitter is so popular.

As expected, everyone I run into wants to know, “how was the trip?” And I want to enthusiastically respond, “It was so great, exactly as I imagined!” But I can’t muster it. There were moments of greatness, don’t get me wrong, but mostly I learned a lot of lessons on this trip- about myself and my family.

Lesson one: Whomever sang about “changes in latitude, changes in attitude” was a liar. It’s just not true. More accurate is the phrase, “Wherever you go, there you are.”

Lesson two: When you constantly indulge, there is no ultimate satisfaction. Indulgence eclipses gratitude.

Lesson three: You learn a lot about people when driving and navigating through unfamiliar streets.

Lesson four: It’s nearly impossible to make 7 people happy at once.

Lesson five: When it comes down to it, simple is better. We would have been better off skipping the “must sees” and just rented a house with a pool and a secluded beach. Their favorite moments were swimming in the pool and jumping the waves.

We landed in Honolulu on Friday the 11th at around 7pm. That’s 10 pm Seattle time. We hadn’t eaten since 2pm Seattle time, except for Zoe, who managed to score a free fruit and cheese platter because the volume on her rented entertainment device wouldn’t work. By the time we got our luggage and our rental car, and made it to the hotel it was about 8 or 830.

Sydney was so exhausted she just went straight to bed. We decided to go downstairs and find something to eat. We settled on a New York style deli, but their only available seating for 6 was up at the counter. We were like zombies. Parker fell asleep face-first into his burger. Zoe fell off her stool and injured herself.

The next morning at 6am Parker was wide awake, since it was 9am our time. He and Jeff started talking and although I grunted out, “no talking!” It didn’t matter. The sun was up, and so were we. (The top picture is what Jeff took the first morning when he took Parker out to explore.)

We got everyone going and decided to hunt down breakfast. We were staying at the Hilton Hawaiian Village, which is several hotels on one site, plus shopping and restaurants.

Since we had gotten in so late, they didn’t have a lei greeting for us. When we walked through the lobby, the woman was there, so we all got leis. Parker in particular had been fussing for one since the night before at the airport. The orchid leis don’t smell like the plumeria leis, but he was happy.

They have a penguin(why?) and turtle display, which Zoe was excited about since turtles are her favorite animal.

She was forced into this picture, in case you can’t tell from her strained smile.

After looking around a bit, we decided to get breakfast at the buffet. Parker was pissy because he just wanted to go swimming. Everyone was cranky and tired. Our vacation was getting off to a rocky start. Breakfast for the 7 of us came to $200. Parker had two pancakes and a piece of bacon. At that moment I made the decision that I would go grocery shopping and stock up the fridge at the condo.

Saturday was spent at the pool and the beach. When I got back from the grocery store, Zoe greeted me with, “I saw a gecko and got pooped on by a bird.”

One of the things we hadn’t anticipated was how busy Waikiki would still be in October. When we started calling around for places to eat Saturday night, most places were an hour wait, several were up to two hours.

We ended up back at the deli. They were starting to know us.

For this meal, Zoe was the one pouting because she had wanted to go to the expensive Italian place upstairs, but had been vetoed. There probably wasn’t a single meal where SOMEONE wasn’t pouting for one reason or another. At one meal, Parker was mad because we had dragged him away from his third consecutive viewing of “Shrek 2.”

Zoe’s birthday was the following day, and we had big plans. After she went to sleep I dragged out the giant singing balloon I had bought and the small amount of gifts and cards we were giving her. (This trip was supposed to be the main part of their gifts.) I set out tropical fruits and tried to make it look festive.

As I made my way back into the master bedroom, Jeff, who had come down with a cold, asked me to bring him some Kleenex. I tried navigating my way to his side of the bed through the dark, only to trip over Nathan’s suitcase and land hip-first into Jeff’s suitcase.

This is the side of my thigh 3 days afterwards

Like I said, the trip was getting off to a rough start.

Coming up- Zoe’s birthday extravaganza. Sea turtles! Filet Mignon! A massive tantrum! Stay tuned…

Oh Wait…I’m Not Supposed To Be Laughing

Posted on October 7, 2013 by KB

Last Friday I volunteered at Zoe and Parker’s school for the annual “Fun Run.” What’s supposed to make it fun is that instead of running laps, we create a giant obstacle course. What makes it fun for me… well, I’ll get to that in a minute. A few years ago, while looking for an alternative to gift wrap and cookie dough fundraisers, the PTA decided to try the fun run concept. Basically kids procure donations for participating, and the money raised goes to various PTA programs such as science day, the art docent program, etc.

The first year, we were all flying by the seat of our pants. I worked the balance beam portion of the course. I had a birds eye view of Hottie Dad and his obstacle. Someone had painstakingly blown up balloons, tied them to ribbons, and hung them upside down from the metal overhang of the baseball dugout. The idea was the kids would run through and punch the balloons out of their way like a boxing speedbag.

When the first group came through, the kindergarteners, they could barely reach the balloons, so most had to jump up to hit them. By the time the third graders came out, we knew we had a problem. The taller the kids got, the more they were getting clotheslined by the balloon strings as they went through. Inevitably, they had to cut all the balloons down and the older kids just ran through the strings.

One of the most impressive parts of that day was watching one of our students, who has cerebral palsy, and his para-educator “running” the course. He was in his wheelchair, with his ever-present giant grin on his face, while she was in heels. They did the course several times. When she went through my section, she pushed him alongside the balance beam, and she walked it in her heels.

We’ve been very fortunate that in spite of living in Washington State, all of our fun runs have been beautiful sunny fall days. This year was no exception, however, we had record-breaking rainfall just a few days before, so the fields were saturated. The field is also surrounded by very tall pine trees, so a lot of those areas at the edge don’t dry out easily.

I arrived just before the start of the event, and was assigned the agility ladders. My partner was a lovely woman with a strong British accent and a heavy lisp. I did a lot of head nodding. There were 4 rope ladders with yellow pvc pipe rungs laid out on the ground next to each other. The idea was that there would be 4 rows of kids coming through, and they would quickly step through each square.

As the first group came out, the music started playing (Kids Bop, of course) and the kids lined up over in the bus drop off lot. The MC got the kids excited and then set them loose to run the course. They ran up the hill, through the trees, down the hill, through the tires, over the hurdles, did an army crawl, jumped up and walked over a teeter totter, and then gained momentum as they headed for our challenge.

We soon discovered that there was a large section between the teeter totter and our obstacle that was very saturated with water. As these little 5 and 6 years olds hit that patch, their tiny legs would fly out from underneath them and they would land in glorious fashion on their bums in the mud. There were some kids who hopped up and kept going, while others crumbled into a pile of muddy tears.

We had probably 10 mishaps before we took an orange cone and plopped it into the middle of the muddy spot. The woman I was working with stood next to it and tried diverting the kids around, but in typical kid fashion, they would go around and then cut right back through the mud again. We tried to get them to slow down, but there were so many coming at us at once that inevitably someone would bite it again.

The mom walking around taking pictures of the event for the yearbook came by. I told her if she wanted great shots, she should stand at the end of our area and soon she’d have lots of action shots of kids falling in the mud. She looked at me, a little perturbed and said, “I don’t think their parents would like that very much.”

It was then that I started thinking there may be something wrong with me. I thought it was all pretty amusing. After all, none of the kids were really hurt.

Next up were the 2nd graders. Parker is in 2nd grade, so I was looking forward to seeing how he did. We attempted to maneuver the ladders so as to minimize the chances of more accidents. We were unsuccessful.

Parker made it through safely with his friend. All three times I saw him they were still together. He ran the whole course, unlike some of the kids.

One boy, who is Parker’s age, but about twice as tall and plays football and basketball, started walking after a couple laps and, winded, breathily said to me, “Need… 5…hour… energy.”

As each group got older, the competition got more intense. I saw boys cutting girls off, jumping in front of slower kids. I had some that tried to avoid actually doing the ladders at all by running between them. Because my kids have been in this school for so long, I know many of their names, and would call them out on it. I know I was supposed to be cheering them on, giving positive feedback, but no one likes a cheater.

I heckled some of my friends’ kids, but I tried to do it all in fun. One boy was walking a few laps in and I told him his younger brother had come through earlier and never stopped once. That kid started running again and didn’t quit for the duration.

By the time the fourth graders, Zoe’s group, were coming out, We had decided to take away two of the ladders and move them over again. The previous grades had pretty much decimated the grass where the ladders had been. We figured if the grass is gonna be messed up, probably should make it evenly destroyed.

The fourth graders made it to my area, and I began to see some of Zoe’s more competitive and athletic friends come through. And then I saw them come through a second time, with no sign of Zoe.

When her friend Rylie came through for her second time, I knew something weird was going on. Rylie hates running. She’s more of an artist, not a big fan of sports in general.

Rylie was a little hesitant about the agility ladder

I asked Zoe’s friends if they knew where she was. I was starting to wonder if she had gone into the woods at the beginning of the course and just plopped herself down on a rock.

Someone came over and said, “Did you hear what happened to your daughter?”

I said, “No, I was wondering where she’s been.”

Turns out that, while still in the parking lot, Zoe had managed to get her feet tangled up with her teacher’s. He stumbled, and she bit it completely.

When he came through the course I said, “I hear you took out my daughter before the race even began.”

He stopped, chuckling, and said, “I felt so bad! I don’t know what happened, but she landed in a full plank in the parking lot. She hopped right up and was gonna keep going, but her knee was gushing blood, so I suggested I take her to the nurse’s office.”

I said, “That’s my daughter. She gets her gracefulness from me.”

When she finally came through, she was all bandaged up.

She was a trouper, though. She ran until time was up.

Later on I asked for her version of the story. She told me, “It was gushing blood. You could almost see the bone. My teacher passed out.” I’m sure that’s exactly how it happened.

I watched a quiet 5th girl in glasses come through at the beginning of their race neck-and-neck with a very athletic boy. They stayed close for the first three laps, and then he started falling behind. As she came through again, I told her she was winning. She smiled and kept going. After it was over, I said to the event organizer that there was a clear winner out of all those 5th graders, and it was a girl. My friend asked if it was a couple girls who were well-known for being athletic, and was surprised to hear it was a girl who in general flies under the radar. I walked over to her as she waited in line with her classmates, and loudly said for everyone to hear, “What’s your name?” She told me. I said, “Well, I just thought you should know, you were the definite winner of this whole thing. You really impressed me.” Her classmates started buzzing and surrounded her, asking her how many laps she had run. None of them knew she had won, and probably never would have. She’s not the type to brag.

At the end of the day, the PTA coffers were $28,000 fuller, no one had suffered major injuries (unless you count Zoë’s “visible bone”) the kids had fun, the rain stayed away and I had material for a new blog. I’d say a successful event all the way around.

The hijinks of the day constantly reminded me of Scooby Doo’s All Star Laff a Lympics. I’m including an episode for your viewing pleasure. While there are many good ones, I chose “Spain and the Himalayas” because Parker has a fascination with the Himalayas.

http://www.funniermoments.com/watch.php?vid=aa93d4daa

Author Kate B Jackson

kbjackson.com

Category Archives: Parenting