Cheesy Chuck E.

Let's get one thing straight. I hate Chuck E. Cheese.

The kids and I are driving to Chuck E. Cheese for Dylan's best friends birthday party. Having been bombarded daily with Chuck E. Cheese commercials on the TV Both of the kid's are beyond excited. That is until Dylan tell Alice about the giant killer rat.

"My friend Mary won't be at the party. She was afraid of the big scary rat at Amber's party."

"Wat?" Alice asks her voice quivering with fear.

"Yes. Big fat rat! Mary was so scared she had to go home."

"Mommy I go home now." Alice cries.

"Dylan! Stop scaring her!" I yell. Then I put on my calmest voice and croon, "Alice he's a nice friendly mouse."

"NOOOO! I go home!" At this moment we are pulling into the parking lot. Anyway Dave is on an all day bike ride and we are 45 minutes from home. We are at the Chuck E Cheese in Attleborough. The "bad" part of town. There would be know way for Dylan's friends parents to know this as they have recently moved here from India. I wrestle Alice out of the car and drag her flailing body into the dimly it hallway. We are waiting to get our hands stamped in invisible ink to prevent any psychotic pedophile child molesters from kidnapping my children. Do they need this process because kidnapping is an ongoing an problem? Why does this have to be his best friend. Any other friend we could have simply made our regrets.
We get stamped and the first person we see is Mary.

"See honey. Mary is here she isn't scared." I tell Alice but I don't know if she can hear me since her face is buried in my chest and her hands are over her head. I untangle her while we walk around looking for the place to put our present. I see little girls in fancy party dresses, scantily clad women wearing too much cheap jewelery and synthetic hair with men wearing loose tank tops accessorized with lots of attitude and neck tattoos.

We find the party table and the rest of Dylan's school friends. Our group looks desperately out of place. We are a bunch of 40-something suburbanites not one neck tattoo in the bunch. I greet my friends and they smile sweetly at my screaming child. The help coax her out of my arms and she is given a cup of tokens.

Alice shakes the coins in the cup making a clanging sound.

"Momma? We play games?" Her tear streaked face breaks into a smile. She takes me by the hand and we are off in to investigate the belly of the Rat. We are in the middle of the dimly lit gaming floor. All around us are loud flashing machines, the smell of strong perfume mixed with sweat, dirty diapers, and pizza. Have I mentioned that I hate Chuck E Cheese?

First I take Alice all the way to the corner to check out the preschool games. First we are trying to help Whinny The Pooh catch bees in a net. Then we are hitting the letters that light up with a soft little mallet. I can deal with these games. Maybe I can get her to stay here and the party won't be so bad? Easy right? Wrong!

After 3 or 4 games she is bored and drags me back into the middle of the room. Into the middle of the action and the seizure inducing lights, sounds, and smells. Alice sees a Sponge-Bob machine. This is not a game. This is a pint sized slot machine. The kid's put in their coin pull a lever and win tickets. Oh did I mention the tickets? The kids go crazy for these tickets. You spend .25 cents a game so they can win a ticket. Then at the end they exchange the tickets for prizes. In theory about $5.00 dollars will get the kids 20 tickets which is just enough for them to buy a piece of bubble gum or a super ball. The same ones in the machines at the store that they can get for a quarter. I hate Chuck E. Cheese.

Alice is now memorized by the machine. She is pumping in token after token and pulling the lever. All she is missing is a cigarette dangling from her mouth and a cocktail and she is one of those crazy little old ladies in Vegas. She is pumping and pulling and then tickets start spurting from the machine. My baby has just won 100 tickets! Now I am all excited. I am jumping up and down we are laughing while collecting our tickets like greedy raccoons gathering trash. I look in her cup and see she only has two tokens left. My baby needs tokens she's on a roll!

I run to get more tokens I cash in ten bucks. I find Dylan in his group of friends and give him half. Then Alice and I are off to bring down the house. We quickly waste about 12 quarters with no results. Then just when I know we will are on the verge of hitting it big again the birthday party is called to do the cake. No not on a hot strike! I cry in my head. I smile and make nice conversation but my thoughts are on the games. We eat stale pizza, sing, cut the cake, then Chuck E. Cheese comes out to personally greet all of the birthday kid's.

Alice starts shrieking and hiding under the table. I take her away from the group to calm her down. Maybe she'll feel better if she is playing more games? I take her back out to game floor and we find another Vegas style gambling game. The light whips around a board and you press the stopper. What ever the light stops on that's how many tickets you win. I press down and win 2 but no tickets come out. The machine says + 86 tickets. I need my two tickets so I get an employee and ask about the machine. He says that the tickets must be out. He goes off and comes back with a roll of tickets and a key. He puts the tickets in the machine and tells me to hit the start button. I do and 86 tickets pour out of the machine. Alice and I look at each other in disbelief. With 2 tokens we have won, eh em, acquired 186 tickets!

At the end of the party it was time to put the tickets in the counting machines and go cash out. Dylan was proud to show me and Alice that he has won 54 tickets.

"How many did you guys win?" He asks with a smirk. I look at my piece of paper and say.

"Who has the most tickets isn't important sweety."

"Oh did you and Alice win like 4 tickets you're such girls!"

"Girls who won 236 tickets!" I say holding the receipt for his to see. His little eyes almost pop out onto the floor.

"Oh Man! Next time you are playing with me. So unfair!"

Of course I combine the tickets and split them evenly between each kid. They each had 150 tickets. enough to buy blow up mallets that they use to hit each other all the way home.

Chuck E Cheese isn't that bad.

CD Wrong

My daughter Alice loves Music CDs. Every time we go to the library she gets to pick out one music CD. Of course she inevitably picks one that Dylan hates. Then they fight about the CDs being played in the car. I eventually bring the CDs inside the house and let Alice listen to them on our stereo.

This afternoon Alice was asking for Curious George, this week's pick. Not the great Jack Johnson soundtrack but a classical music CD with Curious George's picture on the cover. They fought yesterday about playing it in the car. Alice insisted, Dylan screamed, mom took it out. Such is life in paradise.

When we got home from swimming at our local YMCA Alice brought the rejected CD from the car and handed the case to me.

"Momma you play this for me?" I take the CD and bring it over to the stereo. On top of the stereo I find last week's pick Princess Tea Time music. Darn it! I thought we returned this last week. Crap or was it the week before? I put in George in the machine and press play. The Princess CD starts to play. Alice throws herself on the floor and starts screaming. "NOOOOOOOOOOOO Momma not that CD!"

Our multi-disc stereo does not notify us which CD is in which tray. I have to guess. I guessed wrong and she is freaking out. I try again and by default the Princess CD starts to play again.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! MOMMA! NOT THAT! GEOOORGE!" She now throws herself on to the couch. I take a deep breath and try to calm down. Her screaming has me so anxious about playing the wrong CD that I am fumbling with the controls.

I manage to take empty all of the CDs out of the player and put only George in. Alice is crying and saying. "I want George. I want George." I finally get George in and press play. The correct CD begins and I let out a sigh of relief. Alice quickly calms down and sits up on the couch. Then Dylan flips on the TV in the other room. The Sponge Bob theme songs drifts into the room. Alice chirps. "Momma! Sponge Bob!" Then she jumps off of the couch and leaves the room. I try my best not to rip the George CD out of the machine and cackle as I smash it to smithereens!

Tornado

Yesterday as I was typing my blog when my son Dylan came running in to the room yelling. "Tornado Tornado!"

I calmly tell the boy that he is crazy, that no tornadoes hit New England and to leave mommy alone. He insists that the man on the TV had just told him that their was a tornado warning. A tornado is coming and we all needed to stay inside and stay away from the windows. I start to worry. This tornado joke seems to have way too many sensible details. Perhaps the boy has quickly exceeded his projected practical joke potential.

I look online to the Boston Globe weather section. Nothing about tornadoes. However the boy did seem serious. Too serious for a pranking six-year-old.

Just then my husband pops his head in the door. "Lydia, are we almost ready to go?" I am finally buying a laptop and donating this computer to the museum of ancient history were it belongs.
I tell Dave. "Honey we might want to wait. There might be a tornado". Dylan beams with pride and Dave looks at me and smirks. "Okay I'll grab my rain coat. It's up stairs." Dave goes to retrieve his coat and then the phone rings. My friend is on the other line making sure that I know about the Tornado warning. I am horrified. Dylan is even more thrilled to be believed and has given himself the title of the official disaster warner of the family. Dave comes back wearing a rain coat and is still planning to go computer shopping.

My mind is splattered inside my head. Tornado. Tornado? Tornado! I don't know anything about tornadoes. Well except what I saw in the movie the Wizard of Oz. I hang up the phone and start screaming "To the storm cellar! Dorehthee! Into the storm cellar! Dorehthee!"

"Honey." Dave says trying to bring me back to reality. "Look out the window. the sun is still shining."
"Hey Dad?"
"Yes Dylan"
"What's a dorm seller?"
"The basement"
"What's a Dora-Three?"
"Your mom is just being silly.
"Are we gonna die?"
"No."

Suddenly the sky gets dark and the room goes quiet. We all look out the window. The street seems eerily quiet. Alice runs in from the playroom and throws her arms around my knees. I hold my breath. I am dying to yell out. "Auntie Em! Auntie Em!" But I don't want to scare the children anymore than they are. Then the rain comes. The rain looks like the drops are flying in sideways. Then soon the hail comes. Sounds like a kid throwing rocks at the house. Do we run to the cellar? Heck no!

Dave and I run to the side door to watch the show. If our house is lifted into the sky I don't want to miss a thing. The lady riding her bike. The men in the canoe. The guy in the bath tub! I love the Wizard of Oz! I can't wait! We watch marble sized hail bounce all over our porch and the rain ravaging our weak plants. We see black clouds and hear house rattling thunder. But no funnel. With in about 5 minutes the kids are bored and go back to playing. With in about a half an hour the storm was over. My Wizard of Oz movie moment is over. No lift off. No lady on a bike. No ruby slippers. No Wicked Witch. No Glenda. No munchkins. Hmmm Munchkins. Perhaps we can still have Munchkins. "Dave kids! Come on kids let's go. We're going to Dunk n' Donuts on the way to the computer store".

Hamster Brain

In case you haven't guessed I do have ADD. Attention Deficit Disorder also known as Hamster Brain. Living with ADD is in fact living with a giant freaked out hamster sprinting at full speed on a flaming wheel in side of your skull. Believe me I know.

For me, the only thing that helps exterminate the hamster is Ritalin. Yes not only sixth grade boys take Ritalin. Crazy mom's take the drug too. Well when they are organized enough to get any. The great irony of having ADD is that for me to obtain Ritalin I need a prescription each month. Easy right? Wrong!

I need to go call a psychiatrist. Make an appointment. Actually remember go to the appointment. Get the little piece of paper. Remember to bring the piece of paper to the drug store. Return and pick up the prescription and then finally take the pills. This is a lot of logistics for me. With the psychotic hamster raising hell in my brain just calling the doctor could take 3 months.

Seriously I'll loose the phone number 3 or 4 times. I'll find the number then loose my cell phone. If I do ever make an appointment I'll go on the wrong day, at the wrong time or forget to go at all. By chance if I ever get all of these steps right one month I'll get them all wrong for the next three.

Or in my case six months. I guess this year the hamster has been a little more out of control than usual. I also had to change doctors. My brain is whirling out of control. I haven't been to the drug doctor for six months. Yes six. Six months of crazy hamster brain. That means my house needs to be condemned. I can't find either of my check books. I almost killed the car. The kids have been eating crap. The dog is starving. I lost my organizer, I am driving my friends, husband, and kids crazy, and I have lost my sanity. My life has gotten so messy and out of control that my friends staged an intervention forcing me to go find a new doctor. Okay so they didn't but I bet they wanted to.

Good news I did manage to find a new doctor. The planets aligned! I saw a new doctor yesterday. I made the appointment. I was there on the right day and time. I got a new prescription! I took the prescription right to the pharmacy. Where they told me that my insurance did not cover that particular drug. Since I didn't have an extra 400.00 I left the pharmacy empty handed. And repeat!

Rekindling The Romance

Last week my husband asked me out on a date. No not an extravagant dining event in an exclusive Boston hot spot like our courting days. Now that we are in our 11th year together our dates are a little more practical. Dave found a gift certificate in his desk for a local restaurant that he had received as a Christmas present and forgot that he had. Hey, food that I don't have to cook? No kids I was in like Flynn.

Well our date was for tonight. We got our cute lil' baby sitter and we got dressed up. Heck I put on make-up, I did my hair, and I wore my dressy sandals.

We went in Dave's car and he opened my door for me. Just like the old days. Ah the old days, when he used to have stars in his eyes when I was near by. When we first started dating he was so madly in love with me he used to hold hand in the car. Now a days we grunt to each other as we pass in the hallway. We are always together but we are too busy cleaning or taking care of the kids to "spend" time together. As we were driving on our date I reached over and held his hand. He smiled at me and I wondered if perhaps we'd come home like two young lovers? Or even two some-what-old tired lovers?

We get to the place and he opens my door and we hold hands as we cross the street. As we get closer we see their is a note taped up on the restaurant's front door. They are closed down for a two a week vacation. The place is closed. Then something wonderful happens. We both start to laugh. We are laughing together. Like the old days. We hold hands and run back across the street and get back into the car. We end up being the only patrons at a little Thai restaurant across town. Accept for one waitress we are seriously the only people there. I say. "Honey how sweet you rented out the whole restaurant so we could be alone together?" Dave looked around at the empty restaurant smiled. Then he reached his hand across the table and took hold of mine.Then he smiled at me. Were those stars in his eyes?

Be Careful What You Wish For

In case I haven't made my point clear New England spent most of the last 35 days under water. So basically from now on thew month of June will be referred to as monsoon season. However on July the 4th, our nation's birthday our forefather's must have shined good fortune down up on us. Ever since Saturday we have had this mystical glowing orb in the sky. The rain has stopped and a month late the summer has begun.

What happens when rain forces people inside for a month and suddenly their is sun? You guessed it everywhere we look and everywhere we go everyone is sunburned. Especially us. We have been out swimming in the sun! We have been to the YMCA pool, Uncle Andy's pool, Grandma's pool, in fact if you have a pool we were probably at your house too. We just waited for you to go out. We also finally had our fist summer swim in the ocean. Which burned like acid becasue we all have sunburns. but we did it anyway. We Pools, the ocean,

Even I have a sunburn, me and I don't sunburn. Usually I get my slow and steady base tan in June making my skin ready for the hot July rays. Oh no. Not this year. This year the weather went from April to July and I know look like Laura the Lobster. You can see how burned I am in the picture (at least this is my figure in my dreams at night). I am now feeling bad about teasing my sweet pale freckled husband who spends every summer in stages of sunburn. Sorry honey at least we can both be lobsters. They do mate for life?