A new routine--yay!

Vacation was good, aside from the fact that brilliant me decided we should drive instead of fly, so that Moe could go with us, and wouldn't have to be left behind with a sitter. I was mostly impressed with Zoe's ability to ride in a car for 8 - 10 hours a day with almost no complaints. The most whining she did was about an hour out of Austin, at which point I turned around and told her that if she wanted to complain, we could very easily turn the car around and go home and NOT go to Disneyworld. End of story. Really, I have to wonder if she was channeling the spirit of someone much older during the ride, because I ended up NOT wanting to throttle her.
I was quite proud of her.

We were lucky with Florida weather. We were able to go to all the theme parks we'd planned on, plus Universal Studios, when someone gave us free tickets. The biggest problem we ended up having was at Disney's Typhoon Lagoon, in the wave pool. I guess the fault was ours, because when you hear "wave pool" you don't automatically think, "tsunami pool" but that's what it was. And like a fool, I had waded out too far to get away when the 100-foot wall of water came rushing at me. Being a dedicated non-swimming person who is suspicious of bodies of water larger than my shower stall, I did the best thing I could do, which was turn my back to the wave, and know that I would simply be pushed to the shore if I remained calm. No problem. Except that while reassuring myself that I was doing The Right Thing, I also forgot to take a breath and hold it until the wave was upon me, so naturally I got a nose and mouthful of water, which burned and made me sad. I did, however, survive, and waded out, hoping I didn't look too idiotic. I sat on a little outcropping of rock and waited to be able to breathe painlessly, when just to add insult to injury, a wavelet came up, picked up my foot and scraped it against the rocky outcropping, resulting in a wicket scrape that only just got new skin a few days ago. Of course, I whine about myself. At the same time, Zoe got caught up in the next wave and got taken down to the bottom (it was shallow) and scraped up her elbow and back on the ground. We carried her to the first aid station, where as luck would have it, Stitch (of Lilo and Stitch fame) was wandering by. He came in and made her feel better. And then ice cream was eaten later, and we all know that fixes everything.


No pictures, please! Haven't you invaded my privacy enough?! Please, just leave me and my family in peace--we just want to eat a quiet dinner. With the dog.


Not a lot of evidence of such in the photo, but we're sitting in an outdoor cafe in New Orleans there. It was relatively late for dinner (like 8 or so,) and we'd driven all day long, and Moe's brand new bag of very expensive dog food broke open and spilled out all over my feet at the check-in desk of the hotel, and we'd listened to all the Miss Piggle Wiggle (a book on CD) that we could stomach, and my husband and daughter and dog had trustingly followed me on foot through the French Quarter, where I stayed for a few days 15 years ago. And I found this restaurant! It was a surprise to me, even.

There was a jazz combo playing, and having been cooped up all day, the kid's energy overflowed and we and the rest of the restaurant were given a free floor show. Okay, even if she hadn't been cooped up all day, she still would have been out there dancing. More and more I find myself wondering just where this child came from, because there is NO WAY on God's green earth you would have caught me doing that. EVER. Anyway, she looks a bit like a ragamuffin here, but that's not so unusual. We purposely put her into her grubby clothes for the trip. Just in case. But everyone was liberally dosed with Dramamine (Moe included) and all stomach contents stayed where they belonged. Hallelujah. Seriously.

Now, normally I'm not all that enthused about meeting characters (although at the point this photo was taken, we'd already queued up for Winnie the Pooh and Tigger and Darby--or "Darvy" in Zoe-speak.) At any rate, we were in Agrabah, and I was wandering the marketplace while Zach and Zoe rode the flying carpets (because they're only big enough for two people! Hmph.) Jasmine was standing in some shade, and when Z & Z got off the ride, I directed her over there, thinking she'd be excited about it. Know what she said? "That isn't really Jasmine, Mommy, that's just a lady dressed up like her." My daughter has always had a bit of a lack of wonder, I've noticed. Once, when she was really small, I picked up an acorn cap and said, "Look! A fairy hat!" Her response? "Oh, Mommy! It's just the top from a NUT!" Bah, humbug to you, too, little fart! Anyway, I did have to admit that this particular Jasmine looked quite a bit like a white girl with a good tan. I've seen better Jasmines. Ethnic Jasmines. Hell, a Mexican Jasmine would've passed better. But Zoe was willing to suspend her disbelief enough to get a picture.

I just need to say: I wish I had one of these contraptions at home, sometimes. I wouldn't use it very often, I promise! Plus, it would have to be tighter around the ankles and wrists.

This is the cool hat we got at Margaritaville at Universal Studios. This, and the following umpteen photos. The one directly below has the added bonus of something called a "Blood Pop" (it's a Harry Potter candy) giving her a red grin. Cool.

Her first day of Kindergarten!

Yes, there was a little bit of crying, but I didn't let her see it. She already thinks I'm a bit on the weird side, and I have to agree with her. Unfortunately, what I'd REALLY like is to have her think I'm magic and can do anything. But I blew that out of the water about 59 months ago. (That's when she was born, for those of you who hate math the way I do.) She's been attending for two weeks now, and it's been an interesting ride thus far. She seems to be enjoying the classes--she's come home knowing some new stuff that I'm impressed by. For instance, she can tell me what phalanges are. And how grasshoppers bathe. Apparently, for that last lesson, she had her own two grasshoppers, a clean one and a dirty one, to observe. She has Spanish twice a week, PE once a week, art, music and all the usual stuff. I must say, I personally am loving ACE Academy. It seems to really be a good place for her--even though she's in a group of kids of similar age to herself, (one other student even has the exact same birthday!) they're also similar in intelligence levels, which is nice for her. Of course, I can talk all I want about her intelligence--this is the same kid who whines and stomps when I remind her to flush the toilet. Whatever.

So school is going well for her, and I am pleased. Of course, one other rite of passage has been gone through, too. On Saturday, after her first two weeks of school, she came down with a stomach bug. There were two episodes of vomiting, and both of them happened on our upholstered couch. At least it was the same couch, and not both of them. Then, of course, comes the inevitable next question: how does an avowed emetophobe deal with a barfing kid?! By letting her husband do the clean-up, that's how. However, (and you can ask Zach about this) I really surprised myself by actually staying in the same room with her and talking to her and acting basically like I wasn't screaming inside to be let out of this hellish den of infection. And that made me realize that I might actually BE a decent enough mother because when it came down to it, I was able to push way, way waaaaaaaaay past my comfort zone to be around for her. I can't lie and say I was as THERE as I could have been, but I didn't freak out, which is basically what I've been trying to say. And she's feeling much better today, thank goodness.

Finally, when Moe recently went for his quarterly urinalysis, more blood was found in his urine, and he had an ultrasound that showed something in his bladder again. The oncologist says it could be a new tumor or just inflammation, and so we're waiting a few weeks and repeating the ultrasound to see if it has grown. Right now, I'm just going with the assumption that it is inflammation from the previous surgery, because I don't want it to be anything scary. So again, keep Moe in your thoughts. Poor guy.

Oh, also, I got an email about birthday/Christmas ideas for Zoe and the rest of us. I'll do some thinking about that, and post it here.

It's nice to be home again after all the vacation, and nice that our new routine of getting up going to school and coming home is in place. I like it this way.