The Day I Became A Disney Princess

Nothing in my life could have prepared me for the most shockingly amazing thing that happened at the local garden nursery-arcade-restaurant-petting zoo.

Kiddo #2 and I went with some friends to this place today to hang out and crap.  It was fun.  Super fun.  The kids went on every ride (twice!), jumped the hell out of the bouncy castles, ate some amazing chicken and fries, and then, we went out to the petting zoo.

Here I was, just figuring I would be loving on some goats when around the corner was a spotted deer.  

I screamed in my throat (you know, that scream when your mouth doesn't open but your whole neck screams) and could hardly walk.  A fucking DEER!  A beautiful, Disney-style spotty deer, just over there, in the petting zoo.  My knees buckled.  

I turned to Crystal and whispered:

Me:  I have been waiting for this moment all my life.

Crystal:  (raised eyebrows)

Me:  Oh MY GOD.  I am probably gonna cry.

Crystal:  What the fuck for?

Me:  Frick, Crys! A DEER!  If I get to touch that deer, I will probably die of happiness.

Crystal:  Really?

Me:  CRYS!  All the Disney princesses have deers come to them when they sing. If I get that deer to come to me, and like, I touch it, I am clearly a fucking princess!!

Crystal:  Ahh.

At this point, the deer, the mythical beast was really quite far away.  I had no choice.

I was standing far enough away.  

I lifted my hands to the sky like Julie Andrews and began singing.  And of course, like, I was singing that part from The Little Mermaid, where she loses her voice. 

Me:  Ahh-ah-ahhhh.  Ah-ahh-ahhhh. Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ahhhh-aaahhhh.

Crystal:  What the hell?

Me:  I'm singing Ariel's song!  Ahh-ah-ahhhh.  Ah-ahh-ahhhh. Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ahhhh-aaahhhh.

Crystal:  Whyyyyy?

Me:  Ahh-ah-ahhhh.  Ah-ahh-ahhhh. Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ahhhh-aaahhhh. 

Crystal:  People are looking?

Me:  Well, like, I'm singing Ariel's song because, like, does Snow White even have a song?

Crystal: Uh, like yes?

Me:  Oh yes.  "I'm singing... for the one I love, to find me, to find me, today."

No shitting shit, that damn deer was starting to come closer every time I sang!

Just as it got close enough to consider singing more some kids (not OUR kids, because her child and my child were no where to be seen. Seriously.  And I gave literally zero fricks about it, either because a DEER!)  came over, all full of ruckus and making altogether too much noise, so the deer hopped away and over the fence.  Like, it was in the inner part of the petting zoo, and it hopped over the fence back to where it sleeps and eats, where the people can't get to it.  

Stupid kids getting all noisy and scaring my frickin' deer! Why would someone raise children who wanted to make all sorts of noise when a Disney princess is trying to call animals to her? Frick.   

So Crystal and I walked over to the fence and WHAT?  Crystal starts making dog clicking sounds trying to call MY deer to her, and she's not even singing.  

And the deer, MY deer, starts walking to HER!

Me:  So help me GOD, if that deer comes to you I will cut you.

Crystal:  Click, Click, Click.

Me:  Ahh-ah-ahhhh.  Ah-ahh-ahhhh. Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ahhhh-aaahhhh.

Crystal: Click, Clickity-click. 

Me:  Ahh-ah-ahhhh.  Ah-ahh-ahhhh. Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ahhhh-aaahhhh.

I moved further from Crystal so that the deer could choose me, definitively,  and so I could become the Disney princess I am.   I sang loudly, I sang clearly.  I added songs from Cinderella (the Mockingbird thing) and Frozen (Is there ever a time that "Let It Go" isn't appropriate?).

The deer faltered, took an obvious false step toward Crystal but when I pulled out the Snow White and started singing the Well song again, that deer flicked its ears, did an about turn and walked directly toward my song!  It hopped the inner fence and came toward me.  It was majestic. It was perfect.  

Me:  Crystal.  My deer is coming to me.  I am a real princess!  Where is your CAMERA! You have to take a picture!  (all sung in various tones so the deer would continue coming toward me)

Crystal:  (rummaging in her purse)  

Me:  Hurry, hurry!  Time is running out!

Crystal:  Uh (laughing)... I can't take your picture.

Me:   Where is your camera? What is happening? (the deer is sensing my panic)

Crystal:  (laughing hysterically)  My daughter has my phone!  I can't. (laughing) I can't take a picture!

Me:  The deer is leaving.  The deeeer is leeeeeeeaving.  Leeeeaving...

Dammit.  Why? Why did the kid have the phone? And I couldn't take the picture with my phone or I wouldn't be in it because you know I'd never get the selfie right.  

So there's no proof.  

But we both know it happened.  I'm officially a mutha fuckin' princess. 

#BowDownBitches 

I Wish I Got Commissions Cuz This is All About Great Wolf Lodge.

When the holidays approached this year, my sister suggested we try and get something that we could do together.  The whole family.

Sister:  No one needs another $20 thing that will be donated to Goodwill after 2 months.
Me:  Yes! (I had spent the summer purging out basement, so I was super on board)
Sister:  So what do you want to do?
Me:  Yes! I have no idea.
Sister:  Well, think.
Me:  Like, see a movie or something?
Sister: Think bigger.
Me:  See a double feature?
Sister:  Seriously? That's all you can think of?
Me:  I'm uh, like I need some rules.
Sister: It has to be something everyone from the 3-year old to the 19-year old kid wants to do.
Me:  ...
Sister:  And it has to be something we can coordinate together NOT at Christmas because it's too busy.
Me: ...
Sister:  And it should take at least 1 day to do together.
Me:  Wait.  I'm thinking of something ... can we all finish my basement?  The 3-yr old can use the table saw and the 19-year old can hammer...
Sister:  I'm not sure that's what we're thinking of...
Me:  We can call it something catchy like "Downstairs Reno"  or "Really Exciting New Objects" so no one figures it out until it's too late.
Sister:  Ok.  Uh, sure.  We'll put that in the brainstorm cloud.  But what else?


See, last year, we'd left all that brainstorming up to my sister, and she came up with getting tickets to the PanAm Women's Soccer final in July.  It was fun, it was together, it was a day, and it was awesome.

I was kinda hoping she'd take the lead again this year, I'm not gonna lie.

Luckily, my unhelpful brainstorming forced her to come up with a new plan.  And, sure enough, a week or so later, she submitted for approval: The Great Wolf Lodge.  The rest of us were just happy to have an option presented, instead of having to come up with someone ourselves, so we jumped on board.

At Christmas, each kid opened a gift with several random letters in it.  Those letters all rearranged to spell out Great Wolf Lodge.  It was inspired. lol

Just kidding. But, it was hilarious to watch the high schooler and college man furrow their brows with letters like G, W and F (can I buy a vowel?) and the non-readers just dance around to the coloured paper.  Ha.  And then, after 15 minutes of "What does Wolf and Great have anything to do with? And what's the next word?" and then saying "Great Wolf... Great Wolf?  hmmmmmmmmm"  (the oldest kids had it by this point, but the younger ones were stupefied) and then Grampie shouted out TRIUMPHANTLY "GRRRRREAT WOLF LODGE!"  as though HE had no idea what the words were going to be... lol lol  Ohhh dad.

This weekend, Family Day weekend (President's Day weekend for those of you in America), we packed enough for a 5-week trip, drove to Niagara Falls for 2 nights, and had a helluva time.

Seriously guys, I know unsolicited advice is always welcome (haha) but it was so great to spend time together when we all weren't rushing around and super busy.  In fact, it was amazing.

Plus, there were enough adults around that each kid had one to roam with.  It was cool-- the lazy river was great for the people who wanted to relax.  The waterslides were perfect for the active-crazies, the pools were great for hanging out and swim-talking. lol  And then the salon.

Oh man.  Most of the grown-ups ended up getting massages while the kids swam, and there's this adorable salon for kids that does mani-pedi-facials in Strawberry, Vanilla and Chocolate.  My diva (Kiddo #1) and her cousin enjoyed some pampering, too.  Kiddo #2 wasn't feeling a mani-pedi-facial because he was too busy ninja kicking the waves in the wave pool.

Geez. This wasn't supposed to be a big "go to the Great Wolf Lodge" post.  It was supposed to be a "make memories together" post.  Oh well, take it for whatever you want.  It was a great weekend and everyone had something cool to do.  Oh, and the arcade is super fun.  And the food is great.

There.  Just go somewhere together.  It doesn't have to involve passports, or even bags of money.  Just be together. Laugh together.

Spend time.  It has a better return than money anyways.

Where are some places you've gone as a family?  (and To Hell in a hand basket doesn't count! ha)

Santa, Sex and Unicorns.

Well shit.  The day has come. 

In the last few months Kiddo #1 has been asking a few questions, here and there. 

"Hey, Mom, I want another sibling."  "Mom, so-and-so said babies come from Jesus. Is that true?" 

Then, one night a few weeks ago, Husband was taking Kiddo #1 to swim practice.  It was dark, the snow was flying, and misting, and it was kinda just a gross, yucky, night.  Practice was practice.  Nothing out-of-the-ordinary occurred...  Husband could have never predicted that his life would change forever more on this freezing cold, winter's eve...

Maybe it was Full House marathon, or the Katy Perry videos, or the Bill Nye the Science guy video on how mammals have babies... it could've been anything.  But suddenly, unprovoked, Kiddo #1 opened her mouth and, "Daddy, how to babies get INTO the mommy's tummy? Like, how did they do it?" fell out. 

Husband panicked, swerved to the shoulder of the road and swerved back.  He pulled over violently.

Kiddo#1: Daddy!  What's wrong!?
Husband:  Uh.  I uh, I think I hit a cat.
Kiddo #1: DADDY NO! (hysterical sobbing)

Husband then left the car, went behind it, pretended to scoop up a deceased kitty, cross a snow-and slush-filled ditch in his leather work shoes and brand new dress pants.  With his coat around a blob of snow that was supposed to be a dead kitty, Husband dug a hole to bury the cat snow and performed a moving funeral.  I understand the owner of the farm even came out to help him; seeing a man in obvious distress trying to dig a hole in your field might make anyone curious.  But the farmer arrived, spoke to Husband.  The farmer heard the moving tale of distraction, showed Husband a picture of his kids (now grown with kids of their own) and even sang "Amazing Grace" softly over the howl of the winter wind.

When the duo arrived home, Kiddo #1 was exhausted.  Husband was shakey and he did that thing where he says "We need to talk.  Now."  in a way that makes me nervous.  I mean, I had put new boots on the credit card, and maybe a couple of new shirts... Frickfrickfrick.

He took my elbow and guided me into the bedroom.  He locked the door behind us, then made me go into the bathroom.  He turned on the shower and shut the bathroom door. 

Me:  What the frick?  If this is about the boo--
Husband:  Tonight Kiddo #1 asked me how babies are born.
Me: Oh.
Husband: NO! You don't understand.  She asked me HOW babies are BORN and I had to distract her.
Me: Why?
Husband: Because!  We haven't discussed how we're gonna handle this yet! She's EIGHT!
Me:  Handle what?
Husband: SEX!
Me:  Are you whisper-shouting at me?
Husband: OF COURSE I AM!  Do you want the children to hear?
Me:  Uh. I think I don't understand why this is a big deal?
Husband:  Do we even have those "Where do I come from" books?
Me: The ones with the fat mom and dad who get into a tub and overflow the tub?
Husband: Uh?
Me:  Plus, they don't really talk about how sex happens.
Husband: UHHH!
Me: And they don't discuss LGBTQ love and sex, either.
Husband:  But do we have a SCRIPT?
Me:  Is this a play?  Do we need puppets? That could get weird.  Unless... do you still have the Pinocchio puppet?
Husband:  Joke all you want.  If you're so blasé then you can handle it.

And so, after doing some research on ye olde interwebs, I found some really (actually) great books on not only sex education, but puberty!  The illustrations are appropriate, and comic-style, and there's a funny little Bert and Ernie duo that is a bird and a bee.  One is super nervous about it and one is chill, and it's very kid-friendly.

I left the books out, just kinda around, for Kiddo #1 to notice, and she did.  We read a chapter or two at bedtime.  It is ok.  I read the text, and she looks at the pictures.  It was just like reading Harry Potter, if Harry was spelled Hairy, and Potter was a synonym for Penis/Vagina. 

Ok, it was nothing like Harry Potter.  But whatever.  It was just another thing you do.

Of course, when she came around the corner and said, "Mom, I know you are Santa because..." and had a list as long as the alphabet as to why I'm Santa, I stopped hard.  Of course, I was in the kitchen, so I couldn't just pretend I'd run over a damn cat, either.  Some guys have all the luck.

I immediately smashed about 15 Oreo cookies in my mouth to buy some time and think about what I needed to say.  Then I took a deep breath, inhaled a bunch of cookie dust, choked for a few minutes, while Kiddo #1 tried to give me the Heimlich.  Had I been smart, I would've used that as the needed distraction, however, I can't be derailed THAT easily! Take that attention-span-of-a-squirrel!

Me:  Well, ok. 
Kiddo #1:  Why do people do that?
Me:  Do what? Try and distract you when you ask tough questions out of the blue?
Kiddo #1:  No! Obviously I mean why does everyone pretend Santa is real when he's not?
Me:  Well, he was real, like Jesus was a real person.  Santa was a guy (I won't bother telling you what I said verbatim because a) if you want to know about St. Nicholas, you can google it, b) I was kinda talking out of my ass because I hadn't brushed up on my St. Nicholas back story in a while and c) I was also delirious from the sugar content of 15 Oreo cookies racing through my bloodstream like thieves in a diamond heist.)And he did those nice things, so we want to keep that spirit of niceness alive. 
Kiddo #1:  Oh, like Jesus?
Me:  Sure. Yes. Ok. 
Kiddo #1:  Then why do grown-ups lie about it?
Me:  Oh, it's not lying, really. Ok it's lying a bit. But it's also about beliefs.  Like, what does your mom believe in?
Kiddo #1:  Unicorns and rainbows.
Me:  Well, have you ever seen a unicorn?
Kiddo#1: No.  Obviously.
Me:  Well, but there are pictures of unicorns and costumes of unicorns and unicorns are supposed to do wonderful things.  It's kinda the same.  But if you don't believe in Unicorns, you don't run around punching me in the neck yelling "Unicorns aren't real!"
Kiddo #1:  That'd be awful to run up and punch someone in the neck and say "Santa isn't real!"
Me:  Exactly.  People believe things that are important to them, and it's not up to us to decide what is "true" or not.  Beliefs are different from facts. 
Kiddo #1:  Oh. Ok.

A few minutes later she did the same damn thing about the Elf on the Shelf.  I just looked at her, and through another mouthful of Oreos said, "Honey, life is as real as you want it to be.  You decide how happy you are, you decide who is important to you, and you decide the person you want to be.  No one can do any of that for you. And no one can change who YOU are, either."

Kiddo #1 smiled the smile of a kid.  No, she smiled the smile of a tween. 
It nearly broke my heart; it was so full and so empty at the same damn time.

In the meantime, I need to find a taxidermist.  I don't think I can do this again (with Kiddo #2) so instead, I'm gonna hide dead animals all around the house that I can distract him with when he busts out these stupid questions. 

Going to the Bank

Husband:  Are you seriously starting a blog at this late hour?

"Oh, don't worry. I'll buy your weird
assortment of Shopkins and Beanie Boos."

Me:  Whatever. I can do whatever I want.

Husband:  Oh yeah? ... then stay up past midnight.

Me:  No, I said I can do whatever I want. Not whatever you want.

Husband: Dang it. I had a whole list ready just in case.

Earlier today, the kids and I were at Michael's getting ... into trouble, to be frank.  Kiddo #1 decided she wanted to spend some of her allowance.  So, after my transaction was done, Kiddo #1 had her stuff rung up and began using her debit card.

Only it said her pin number was wrong.  Several times, and then it locked her out; luckily I was there to still buy her shit.  

When we got back to the car, I had her call the number on the back of her card.  I figured this was as good a time as any to teach her what to do when something weird happens to her card.  

First off, let me say, that there are way too many numbers anyone should have to type when calling about a broken bank card.  By the time you type in your card number, your pin number, your birthday, the day you broke your arm the first time, and the day you will get married divided by 7, any adult is ragey.  

Kiddo #1, who is often patient, was pushed to the limit a few times; but she didn't scream or get angry, she just sighed, hung up, and started again.  

When we finally got through to a real person (haha, Kiddo #1 thought the recorded voices were real people, which reminded me that she's a kid still, no matter how often I forget it) she then had to answer all sorts of questions to verify it was, in fact, Kiddo #1 on the phone.  

As if sounding 8 wasn't enough proof.  We had to talk about her latest transactions, what services she has at the bank, and I mostly had to translate what the questions were into kid-speak so she could answer them.  

And when it came down to it, and the phone person couldn't reset the password (we had to go to the branch), Kiddo #1 was so cool.  She didn't get frustrated about all the work she'd done just to get no-where.  She didn't freak out or yell or anything that an 8-year old might do.  She just looked at me and said "We need to go to the branch to fix it."    

It was just so cool to see her grow up in front of me.  

Luckily, before I could breakdown in sobs of "my baby is growing up," Kiddo #2 reminded me that he had to PEE SO BAD.  So I took him inside to pee, got the kids a cookie, me a coffee, and drove to the branch.

When we got there, there was literally no other client waiting.  It was kinda like TV.  Kiddo #1 strolled confidently to the open window and I walked up beside her.  (Kiddo #2 waited by the water cooler, probably drinking gallons of freezing cold water because by the time we got home he had to pee AGAIN)  

Bank Friend:  Hello, how can I help you today?

Kiddo #1:  Um?  

Me:  Why did we come here?

Kiddo #1: Oh yes.  Uh, my bank card.

BF:  Oh. Is everything ok?

Kiddo #1:  Yes.  Well, I wanted to use it but it won't work.

Me:  What part won't work?

Kiddo #1:  The PIN isn't working.

BF:  Oh dear.  Can I have your card?

Kiddo #1:  Yes.  

BF:  Ok.  So can you put your PIN in there?

Kiddo #1:  Um? It doesn't work.

BF: Yes. Let's reset your password then.

I stood there watching my 8-year old (baby) managing her bank account problem with grace.  

I stood there watching my 8-year old (baby) speak clearly and ask for what she needs.  

I stood there watching my 8-year old (baby) return her bank card to her wallet. 

I watched my baby (8-year old)  have polite conversation about what she's doing this weekend.  

I watched my baby (8-year old) thank the bank friend for her help and walk toward the car.  

I half expected her to get in and drive off to university.