On Your Mark. . .Get Set. . . Go. . .Disneyland!

I love Disneyland. What's not to like. Disneyland is like the celestial kingdom of theme parks: its clean, people are always smiling, you're there with your family, it is the happiest place on earth. . .or is it?

When I was a kid, maybe 8 - 9 years old, my parents would drop me off and I would run around Disneyland all day with my cousins who were no more than a year older. We would run from ride to ride, often bumping people on the way dodging strollers, racing people to be first in line. It was a marathon.

I loved Disneyland so much, I would dream about it. I had a reoccurring dream when I was a kid that I was stuck in the Pirates of the Caribbean. It was one of those dreams that you loved but hated. It was frightening but exciting at the same time. I would get stuck in the ride, why, I never knew because it would happen again and again. For reasons unknown to me, I would have to spend the night and negotiate my way around the town and caves all by myself. I loved it but hated it at the same time. This dream was right up there with the reoccurring dream of having to spend the night in May Co. Alone, traversing the different departments through the night, and finding my only sustenance to be the candy counter where I had my choice of chocolate covered raisins, snow caps, turtles, honey comb and Swedish berries, I was both frightened and in heaven.

Today, when we go to Disneyland, we run. . . we run the minute we step out of the car to get to the tram, we run from the tram to get to the gate, this is where we stop, take a time out and evaluate where we want to go first. (This is a negotiation process comparable to the Cuban missile crisis of which I will discuss later. Once the decision is made, we pick up and run to the first destination. Lily and Emma on Mousetrap as they affectionately call it.

Why run you ask, because, once we get to the ride, we wait, and wait, and wait and wait. This has got to be one of the greatest lessons on taking turns any toddler/gradeschooler will ever experience. In the world of a little guy, especially our little guy, you get what you want, when you want it, and when you don't, well, you can resort to the ever fruitful, temper tantrum, but in Disneyland, there is no negotiation of the waiting process, everyone has to take his turn.Monster Mash outside of Haunted Mansion.

The waiting time can be a bit challenging. The line moves slowly, the spaces are cramped, the Asian person behind you, whose cultural relation to space is quite different than yours, is standing right on top of you. Yes, it is challenging. When my kids were babies, I knew how to negotiate the wait of the lines. I depended heavily upon the baby switch pass. Because my kids were born two years apart, I could get two baby switch passes for each ride, which pretty much meant that we never had to stand in the entire line. The baby switch pass is comparable to the fast pass for every single ride with no restrictions. For this reason, parents can get the optimal use of Disneyland when you have babies--a perfect rebuttal to birth control.

However, for me, those days are over.

Me Will and Owen on Autopia

Believe me, I tried to get the baby switch pass at Space Mountain for O boe last week, "May I have a baby switch pass for Space Mountain?" I ask confidently, my baby is in his stroller, I am wheeling him around Disneyland like he doesn't have two legs to walk on.

The gate keeper of Space Mountain looks official in her 20th century space uniform in the primary colors of 1 - 2 - 3 red, yellow and blue. She looks down at my four year old, 3 1/2ft, 47 lb boy in his stroller and says, "In order to get a baby switch pass, you have to have a baby."

She said it Just-- Like-- That!

The nerve of her!

What was she thinking, Did she think that I was trying to take advantage?, pilfer a free fast pass for my family?, milk the system for what it is worth?. . .well she has another think coming. . .

Pondering. . .

I was tempted to keep O's in his cast after his foot was already healed, although his leg was atrophying, because the only thing better than a baby switch pass is a wheelchair pass that allows the invalid to ride w/ up to 6 people besides himself. . .

Reflecting. . .Confessing. . .okay I admit it, I was trying to take advantage.

Well, now that my children are all able to ride most of the rides, the days of baby switch passes are long gone. We have to stand in line like everyone else. The first line we had to stand in was the stroller line.The kids were not happy about waiting in line for a stroller

The challenge for the 21st century mother is how to keep her children occupied during the wait.

Goodies Galore!

We had ample supply of junk food and treats. We played eye spy, peek a chou(which involves rock, paper, scissors, and a cheek pinch for the loser until the winner gets two out of three and can slap the losers cheeks after he has pinched them into vermilion.)

Owen and Lily during rock, paper, scissors

Will and Emma after the game and she gets her rewards

Finally, Slide, which is a game that involves clapping for speed. All these games helped the time speed up and dampened the whining that is always ever present at Disneyland (why is there whining at Disneyland, as parent I truly don't know. I think it is one of those mysteries of heaven that will be revealed, perhaps it involves the law of agency and contradiction. Curious minds want to know.)

Will and Os w/ license in hand

Despite the crowds, most lines were only 45 min.

Will in our first ride, "Venerable Whales Mouth"

The kids had two days to get their fill of Disneyland before their passes expired. This is where real negotiations take place. When we are negotiating what we want to go on and where we should go first, Stakes are high, tempers begin to flare, emotions exhibit themselves, drama surfaces. All the players are there to lay their cards on the table: There is the cool headed, logical (LIly), the passionate, fiery (Emma), the angry, stubborn (Will) and the sensitive, emotional (Owen). This dichotomy of personalities times two plays out daily in negotiations in my home. Often their can be fireworks. IT is a delicate balance to work with or a nuclear explosion can devastate the whole experience.

"What ever you guys want to do. Just talk about it and decide?" I attempt to be the mediator allowing everyone to express their desires and negotiate the terms, but when the whining escalates, when the democratic majority raises up and begins to squash the rights of the individual over It's a Small World, I quickly become the communist dictator, and quiet the whining with a threat of which I could never really follow through. . ."If you guys don't stop whining we are going to go home right this instant." Boy was that my mother or what?

Darth Vadar after the chosen one.

And I force the other three to go to the ride which is last on their list. "We are a team," I say, "not one without the other,and sometimes we have to sacrifice for the team." to which the other three, slump their shoulders, roll their eyes and stomp to the next ride.

Emma, Lily and Will on Orange Julious

Playing Hardball

It's official. I now love baseball!

I have been watching baseball for y--e--a--r--s, learning the names of Giant's players, listening to strategy and technique, tuning into games on the tube, listening to pregame and postgame shows as Ralph Barbieri takes callers, hearing box scores and play off predictions, listening to possible trades and offseason baseball business for y--e--a--r--s. I am married to a baseball fanatic--that word may be a little harsh, lets see what it really means--a person filled with excessive and single-minded zeal, esp for an extreme religious or political cause ie zealot. . .--Nope, fanatic is the perfect word! To Richard, baseball is a religion. . I don't mind. It is something that he is passionate about and he loves to share it, hence why I have known so much about baseball and the Giants. I liked going to the games but I found myself watching people more than the actual game. But now. . . NOW. . . I love baseball. I love the tradition, the uniform, the players and the coaches and why you ask? What transformation has arisen that I now care so much about a sport that I have only tolerated in the past? Because my little guy is now playing. It's a whole new ball game.

When we play baseball, we play with a wiffle ball and bat, (don't laugh, it's not as easy as you might think when someone puts a nice curve on that plastic ball) so Will hasn't had much experience catching a hard ball with a mitt. At Will's second practice, I was sitting about 100yds away watching my kids play on the play ground as Will practiced with his team. Will is the youngest kid out there. His birthday falls just two days before the dead line, so he just barely made it. I know that he has a lot to learn, he doesn't seem to mind not being as good as the other kids when it comes to fielding etc. I am really proud that he is out there doing his best. As I watch, I notice that he starts to walk to his brother Mitch who is sitting close by. Mitch seems to console Will and then they both begin to walk toward me. Will's head is down. When he gets close I see the sad look on his face but no tears in his eyes. "What happened?"
He looks up and I see the abrasion on his chin where the ball bounced off. He points to his chin and describes how he got hit. "I don't like baseball!"

"Did you get hit?"

"Yeah! It hurts!"

"I know, it does hurt. Sometimes when we play we get hurt, but it will feel better soon."

"I don't want to play."

"Are you afraid"

"Yes,"

"You know what, your going to get better Will. Your going to get better at catching that ball and that won't happen again, and your chin will get better soon too." He sits on my lap and snuggles in to me. "But you know what? if you quit now, you will hurt inside, because you quit. Quitting makes you feel weak, and that doesn't go away. That pain stays with you. If you stay in there and face your fear you will feel strong. Do you want to feel strong?" He nods his head yes. "I knew it. Because you are strong. Okay then get back up and go practice with your team. " Will stood up and grabbed his mitt and ran out to join his team. Phew, You pray that your kids will make choices like that but ultimately it is their choice and their journey. I am so proud of him. I was that day and every day that he picked up that glove and tried to catch that ball.

For one complete week he caught the ball with Richard or I and would turn his head in fear, but he didn't stop trying. He kept it up. Just today we were playing catch and he cheerfully shouted, "Hey mom, see I didn't turn my head." Although those balls don't always land in the pocket, he is trying and improving each day.

When it comes to batting. Will is pretty confident. He could bat both right and left handed when he was three years old. So he gets up there and feels he can hit that ball, and he does. he has hit three out of the four times he has been up to bat. He doesn't worry about swinging too hard, he just makes contact and runs his little heart out to get to the base in time. He stands there waiting with his little fists clenched watching the pitcher and batter, concentrating on when to run. I love it: I love that each pitch means that there is something bound to happen that will affect the game. I am amazed at the pressure upon the batter to perform and the pitcher to throw strikes. I appreciate the smooth transition from fielding the ball to throwing someone out. I love the team play and the confidence team members have in one another.
I finally get it Richard!I now understand why you love the game so much!

Will's first at bat in an official game.
He waited through four balls
from the pitcher to have his coach
pitch to him. He hit the first pitch from
his coach.

















Will bolting from second to third.

















He gets there safely!


















Will waiting with clenched fists to run it in
all the way to home.

Hack-a-Shaq on The Hardwood, Dunkadelic Style!

My Will has always been a baller. He loves to throw, shoot, hit, bounce, roll, dribble, and kick balls of rubber. He has had tons of practice, in very casual games (if you can call our family games casual, that may be a little tame for the competition that goes on between the boys and the girls) of kick ball, basketball, baseball, handball, and soccer, but has never participated in any organized team sports, until this year.

Will always shows up ready to play and doesn't mind playing with the big boys. This year at school, Will took up handball. Lily informs me that he plays with the big kids and isn't scared to go and try his hardest. At the beginning of the year, Will had never played but he wanted to learn, so he would wait in line at the "Big Kid Court" for half his recess just so he could learn all about waterfalls, double bouncies, butt cracks and all those other wild rules that make up hand ball. Even though he would only spend a couple minutes, if that, on the court before he had to get back in line, he didn't quit. He kept on showing up and now is doing great.

He reminds me of his cousin Justin. Justin loved playing any game and he didn't mind who he was playing with. And when J, as I like to call him, came to play, he gave his all, he was known to slide into home on the pavement in Nana's culdesac, definately a gamer!

Will's first experience was basketball. He was lucky to get on Coach Ray's team. Coach Ray is one of those volunteers that make a community great: a strong leader who sacrifices his time and energy to build kids. He is Inspiring. Every day after practice he would gather the kids together in a circle and shout, "What's the number one RULE!" to which the kids would chant, "Have Fun!" And they all did. They had fun. He had them running all over that court teaching them to hustle and play hard as well as the fundamentals of the game. Coach Ray often demonstrated what it meant to try your hardest. Once when doing sprints Coach Ray stopped them and showed them what it meant to run hard, "You gotta run so hard that you don't think you can run any harder. You gotta give it your all." Will understood. As I drove him to the the following practice, Will said, "today I am going to run my hardest!" and after that was always one of the first runners at the finish line.

Will learned all the fundamentals, dribbling, shooting, defense, offense (which means fight through the crowd and take it to the hoop) as well as to cheer for his team and say,"Nice shot!" "Great pass," "Nice hustle!" giving team mates credit for their work. Good stuff!

Coach Ray knew he was teaching more than just basketball, but building character. I am grateful for volunteers like him that really make a difference.

Like Sister Like Brother.

Ems is a planner. She came out of the womb planning parties and activities, tea parties, craft projects, play dates, park days, princess balls, etc. She is all about the plan: brainstorming the plan, organizing the plan, implementing the plan, experiencing the plan. Her life is so dependant upon whether or not her plan is realized or foiled. It is either the best day, or the worst day. There is rarely an in between. I absolutely love that about her. Every day she asks me: "So what are we doing tomorrow mom?" to which I reply, most of the time, "We are doing homework and having dinner, relaxing and going to bed."

She is never impressed with my plan.

Don't get me wrong, I can plan. . .I just don't think that far ahead, generally, but Emma loves me despite my personal flaw. So Emma takes control of those things she can control. One such thing is what she is going to wear to school the next day. Since, first grade I believe, Emma has made the effort to choose her outfit and place it on her floor so she can roll out of bed and put it on in the morning. She got this from her father, like I said I don't think that far ahead.

Tonight she did the same thing she has been doing for two years already. No news to me. Every evening when I go in her room to tuck her in, she has her ensemble laid out flat on the floor, nice and even, like a little paper doll outfit,

Tomorrow's outfit

organized: top and bottom, belt and buckle, socks and shoes, jewelry too, until recently when she realized that Kiki Lila, our cat, was playing with it during the night and turning it into a big twisted mess.

What I didn't expect, was going into the boys room and seeing this:

These clothing choices aren't bad for yitta guys.

top and bottom, socks and shoes and even jewelry, spy the silver jeweled cross necklace that Will got out of a gumball machine in an Italian restaurant (I guess it is fitting that they would have crucifixes in their gumball machines.)And notice that it is perfectly paired with his Italian soccer t-shirt. (My friend Jeanne LaMonica would appreciate this) Notice Owen doesn't have jewelry, but he has his sword lined up so he is already to play the moment he wakes up and dresses himself.

Richard and I smiled.

Like Sister, Like Brothers.