Stimeyland

:(

noreply@blogger.com (Stimey) — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 03:50:00 +0000

Hey. It's not been an awesome couple of weeks, has it?

If you're looking for funny and self-righteous outrage, can we just pretend that I posted this column about how terrible homework is here?

Mostly, however, I just want to send my love to my friend Susan. She's one of the good ones.

The Izz-Bird

noreply@blogger.com (Stimey) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 04:49:00 +0000

I had a cat named Izzy. She used to be Isabella, but about five minutes after I brought her home, I realized that Isabella was way too sophisticated for her, and Izzy she became. Also, sometimes Izz-Bird, or more accurately, The Izz-Bird.

This is her:

Now, I'm sure YOUR cat is awesome and all, but Izzy is the best cat. She spent the first half of her life being a silly, playful cat and then she relaxed into a wonderful, cuddly cat for a long time. I used to have to fake sleep in the morning, because if she caught me with my eyes open, she would poke at my face with her paw so I would pet her.

She also spent a couple of years as one of Jack's best friends.

About a year and a half ago, Izzy got sick. Really sick. We weren't sure she was going to make it. She was in renal failure and it was touchy for a while. Soon enough though, we got her medicine and fluids under control and she stayed happily healthy on her maintenance plan. She was expensive as hell, what with her four twice-daily medicines, her special food, and her daily subcutaneous fluids, but she got her energy back and was fun and happy for 18 months.

We had a little routine, Izzy and I. Every evening for the past year and a half, I would go upstairs to my bedroom, where she mostly stayed, and I would feed her. I would lie on my bed and she would eat and then she would come sit with me. I would hang out with her for an hour or so and give her the medication and fluids that kept her healthy. I would scratch her under the chin and she would purr.

That cat purred all the time.

Then, a week or so ago, she started getting noticeably bonier. And more lethargic. And I couldn't not take her to the vet. So yesterday, I took her in and the vet did some tests and the results weren't good. Our options were to go "all in" with a blood transfusion, hospitalization, and IV fluids or to...well, that part was sort of left unsaid.

But even if we did go all in, there were no guarantees. It seemed like a lot—for us, for Izzy, for our kids—with little chance of long-term success. I had known for a year and a half that this decision was coming. I knew there would come a day when I would be sitting in an exam room and have to make the last appointment I ever wanted to make. But it was the right choice for my family and it was the right choice for Izzy.

She was cuddly. Always cuddly.

I made an appointment to come back the next morning, because I needed my kids to be able to say goodbye. They have all known Izzy for their entire lives. They deserved to say goodbye. And I needed to do so as well.

My kids were sad. Alex was sad. Sam was brokenhearted, but always practical, noted that he would have to try to make friends with Denali, our other cat, who does not like children. Jack went upstairs and laid down next to Izzy, put his finger out for her to sniff and said, "I love you, Izzy." Quinn giggled at how cute Izzy was and patted her on the head over and over and asked if we could make a poster to remember her.

I spent the whole evening with Izzy. The rest of Team Stimey came to visit now and again throughout the evening. Sam, Jack, and Quinn all made notes for Izzy to tell her she was the best cat. They all let her know how much they loved her. They were all very gentle.

This morning everyone said goodbye to Izzy before they went to work and school. I came home and sat with her until it was time to take her in. The whole event was very gentle. The vet gave her a sedative so she would fall asleep and I scratched her under her chin as she did.

She fell asleep purring.

I'm going to miss her. I'll miss her soft fur. Tonight, when I didn't have my excuse to spend a quiet hour upstairs with my furry buddy, I missed her a lot. But I'll be okay. She lived for almost 16 years, and she had 18 months of healthy life more than we thought she would. The munchkins are all very sad, but we're talking about it and they're going to be okay.

And that poster? The one Quinn wanted to make to remember her by?

It's beautiful.

Rear Window

noreply@blogger.com (Stimey) — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 03:40:00 +0000

My family is having a little bit of a pet crisis today. It will be "resolved" tomorrow, but not in the happy way. I'll tell you about it later.

I decided to tell you about something different and light and funny because it is less sad. Somewhere along the line, I decided that the light and funny post should be about my rear windshield wiper. Because that is a logical leap.

I think I mistook "light and funny" with "stupid and boring."

I even Photoshopped a whole graphic about the rear windshield wiper story.

Then, I got ready to actually write the post and I looked at the notes that I'd scribbled earlier today that I thought were really funny at the time and it occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, I thought the windshield wiper story was funny just because it was not tragically sad, like my cat story.

Mental note: Don't judge humor whilst crying and clutching your sick cat.

Really, here is the story: The wiper was broken and loud. Alex told me how to fix it. I fixed it.

I am going to go cuddle with my kitty tonight. See you tomorrow.

*****

Remember the playground? You know, the scary one, where I rolled my kids in bubble wrap and refused to let them play, taunting them with the joy of the non-helicopter parented kids? I wrote about it again, this time over at the local Patch.com site I write for. I have a new friend over there in the comments section who HATES ME.

Finally. A Good Parenting Decision.

noreply@blogger.com (Stimey) — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 04:44:00 +0000

You know how I always dress Jack in camouflage, which is the dumbest thing ever because he likes to explore plants and dirt and whatnot, but always at the periphery of whatever location we are in? Well, Alex and I smartened up. After Jack took apart the zipper on his last winter coat (which was black with camouflage-y markings), making it substantially less warm, we bought him a new coat—in the brightest color the store had.

It's even brighter than it looks. We will never lose him again.

Also, because January is apparently spring, all winter coats seem to be 50-70% off. Awesome.

And, yes, Jack is giving the dog bunny ears for the photo above. It is endlessly humiliating to be our dog.

A Little Bit About Everyone

noreply@blogger.com (Stimey) — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 04:22:00 +0000

I'm kind of avoiding a lot of stuff right now, so I decided to tell you about a few things that have been happening around here, things that might not make their own successful post, but will do nicely when stacked together.

Hey, do you remember Quinn's school photo? The one that was so bad that I had it retaken? The one wherein his eyes were closed? If you don't remember, you should go look at it now before you continue on.

Well, I sent him in for his retake and told him to try to keep his eyes open. Then I sat back and waited for the arrival of a retake photo in which Quinn's eyes were almost comically open.

It is even better than I had hoped.

I do believe someone combed his hair as well.

*****

The principal at Jack and Quinn's school is leaving for another job. And since he was already gone on a short-term assignment, that means he is just GONE. He's not coming back. I have feelings of distress about this for a lot of reasons, but one of the biggies is because I knew Jack was going to be sad.

See, for the first couple of years of elementary school, Jack was sent to the office on a regular basis, but the principal, you know, got it and managed to make Jack feel good about himself. Sometimes when Jack just needed to calm down a ~~little~~ lot, he would get sent to the principal to chill out. The dude was pretty much Jack's best friend for a while.

I told Jack this morning and he started to cry. I felt like joining him.

*****

As for Sam, well, he gets cooler every single day. I had no idea how fun age ten was. I also had no idea how much better ADHD medicine could make Sam's life. That dude has gotten so much more chill since starting his meds this fall. He's happier, he's less anxious, he talks more, he lets people do things like hug him. It's really amazing. If you would have described current Sam to me four months ago, I wouldn't have believed you.

Honestly, on a day-to-day, practical, count-the-meltdowns basis, he used to be my hardest kid. Now he is an absolute delight. He smiles more too. I love that.

Love that kid.

*****

I got a haircut today, but because I live with four boys, no one really noticed. I mean, I cut off probably 8 inches and now I have bangs, but my kiddos still haven't noticed. To his credit, Alex figured it out in under an hour.

I had to suffer through almost an hour of small talk for it (I think maybe that's why I only get my hair cut once a year or so), but I'm happy with the results.

*****

Alex did some stuff too, but they were fancy lawyer things, so I don't know what they were.

I Wish I Had Something to Say

noreply@blogger.com (Stimey) — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 04:21:00 +0000

I was hopeful that I would write a really fun post today, something to get us over the controversy of the playground, but I got nothin'. My kids are in school instead of being at home doing amusing things for your benefit.

Also, Jack falls apart at school every January, which means that school is kind of a shitshow right now. Which is kind of a bummer.

I also have this cyclical, chronic, low-level depression thing going on, but that isn't a lot of fun to talk about either.

Here is what I DO have:

• You guys, there is this awesome show that I'm sure none of you have ever heard of before, but holy shit, I've been watching Breaking Bad on Netflix streaming (*I* still love you, Netflix!) and I am in love. It's fortunate that I'm not sixteen years behind the trends or anything.

• As if living with other human beings isn't noisy enough, my dog, who spent the day right next to me, had a near-constant stomach gurgle for several hours today.

• We hired a cleaning service because I am terrible at, you know, house upkeep. However, the stress of avoiding them on the day they come is reaching epic proportions. This is mostly because I feel bratty for being home during the day, but not cleaning. The other six days of the week, however, are spent in sparkly clean joy.

• I had to go see Alvin and the Chipmunks: Chipwrecked. THAT was the longest six years I ever spent in a movie theater. I wrote about that movie in terms of the sacrifices of parenthood over at Patch.com.

• I'm hoping that that link right up there (^) can count as your post for today if this one doesn't.

An Itemized Tour of the Most Terrifying Playground in the World. EVERYBODY PANIC!!!!!

noreply@blogger.com (Stimey) — Sun, 08 Jan 2012 17:26:00 +0000

Let's talk about playgrounds. Some playgrounds I like. Some playgrounds upset me.

Playgrounds I like include the following features:
1) Fences
2) Clear sight lines
3) Small areas
4) Few people
5) Easy parental access to all play structures
6) Fun playground equipment

Team Stimey went to a playground today that had exactly one of six of those features. Team Stimey Junior had a blast because that one positive feature was fun playground equipment. Team Stimey Senior had a heart attack because the rest of the park seemed ACTIVELY DESIGNED to aid kidnappers and kids who tend to meander off.

It was difficult to take a photo of the whole playground, because it is huge, which was awesome for the munchkins, but terrible for me. I do have this professionally marked up and annotated photo that can give you an idea of what we're dealing with here.

I felt too lazy to use the Type tool in Photoshop. Sorry.

Shoot. I used numbers up above too. Listen, I'm sorry that I have two lists of six in this post. You are just going to have to deal with them. God, Stimeyland has gotten confusing.

1) There is a long, raised wooden boardwalk dividing the playground. Note the fence, presumably to keep kids from jumping off of it, but effectively forcing parents to walk all the way around if they need to chase a quick, agile child. There are also child-size openings in the fence under the boardwalk. More on that later.

2) Off that way is the sandbox, the baby swings, and some bouncy toys. Also off that way is easy access to the untamed forest bordering the playground. I get that the park designers probably did this to keep little kids separated from bigger, rampaging older children. To that, I say, thank GOODNESS no little kids have OLDER SIBLINGS. Or that there aren't sensory seekers who will hang out in the sand, leaving their more active siblings wandering unsupervised. You know, in theory.

3) Swings and giant web climbing structure. Giant.

4) HUGE slides that start on one side of a raised area that has a fence/ladder system clearly not designed for adults and that let out on the other side of said barrier. Even the little kid slide is set up this way.

5) Other playground equipment. This was home to this spinny thing that Jack loved and on which he made friends with more than one girl who was interested in helping him spin as fast as he could. That was my favorite thing in the park.

6) Giant synthetic mountain. Honestly, pretty goddamn awesome. But also kinda perilous. Plus, the entire backside of it was not only (naturally) blocked from view, but provided a perfect unsupervised escape route for curious kids who like to check out what is happening in other, less populated parts of the park.

Enjoy your tour? I'd like to highlight some of the more stressful aspects of this park that brought out the neurotic parent in me. In my photos, I tried to include as few random people as possible, but it was difficult considering how crowded it was. Fortunately Alex was there to actually watch the children while I wandered around documenting how hard it was to watch your children.

It was also, like, 65 degrees, so we ran into every local friend we had who also decided to go to the park yesterday. Hello? January? Where are yooooouuuuu?

So. Let's start with that boardwalk, which not only divides the playground in two, but eliminates clear sightlines, so you can't stand in one place and watch all of your children. Other than the obvious, I have a couple of issues.

I know! Let's teach kids to play in drainpipes!

Jack loves that damn tube. And it's the last place you're ever going to look for him. It also provides a way for kids to quickly and invisibly dart to an entirely different part of the park. Yes, there is access for adults to squinch by as well, but that access also allows children to get under the boardwalk where you CANNOT REACH THEM.

Oh, hi, Sam. Running from me much?

Shortly after I took that photo, he scooted out of a small hole on the other side of the boardwalk. It was upsetting.

Honestly, at some point, I just gave up on Sam. I figured that he was the least likely to wander off or be kidnapped. Sorry, Sam. You're one of my very favorites, but this is the cost of competence.

Next, let's discuss the division between the top of the slides and the bottom of the slides. That division is a fence atop a six-or-so-foot cement wall that has grooves etched into it for kids to use as ladders.

To be fair, the slides are kinda super awesome.

I managed to capture Quinn in a demonstration of these ladders for you.

Step one: Climb the unclimbable ladder grooves:

Note the girl next to him that needed assistance.

There was a lot of that. It's a weird system.

Step two: Squeeze through the child-sized fence hole at the top.

Seriously. Not a lot of adults are getting through that.

At least without embarrassing themselves.

Step three: Change your mind at the last second and decide that you'd rather wander around unsecured on the DANGER! DANGER! DANGER! side of the fence.

What six-foot drop?

Speaking of Quinn and danger at the park, should we take a moment to discuss fashion dangers? Because, come on, Q-ball. GQ isn't going to come calling if this continues.

Second-hand karate pants are bad, but he HAS found

the only way to make Crocs cute.

Moving on to the giant web structure. I can't really nitpick about this one too much because it falls squarely in the fun playground equipment category, but I am always terrified that my kids are going to fall and then ricochet all the way to the ground.

Then Jack climbed even higher and started jumping. True story.

Fortunately, Montgomery County Fire and Rescue was there.

Although they may have just been watching their own kids.

Speaking of watching your own kids, there was some sketchy parental supervision going on as well.

Dear lord, THAT doesn't seem safe, kid in the green shirt.

Oh. Hi, Sam.

Christ, kid, use your hands!

Oh. Hi, Jack.

Oh, and let us not forget the dangers of not thoroughly considering who you will marry and who will then proceed to post embarrassing photos of you all over the internet a mere twelve years later.

Hi, Alex!

I don't have a whole lot to say about this next photo of the synthetic hill, but I thought you should see it. Also, I saw an older kid doing multiple cartwheels down it, which was terrifying to watch.

I did enjoy Quinn's shadow here though.

At some point Jack took a break on the top of a REAL hill. I took this next photo to demonstrate the woods directly adjacent to the park and how easy it would be to (a) wander off into them, or (b) hide in them and wait for an unsuspecting child to take a break on a real hill.

Remain vigilant, people.

Let's move on to the little-kid part of the park, which, incidentally, is the only place my kids were harmed. There were three injuries sustained, all by Jack. First, he pinched his fingers in the swing for disabled kids. (And then it took me a while to figure out how to unlock it and get him out.)

Plus, he kept trying to kick me. Seriously. Remain vigilant.

In terms of real injury, however, I am about to show you the most dangerous item of playground equipment at this park. Jack was injured TWICE. Those of you with nervous constitutions may not want to look.

I know. It's almost like they're ASKING for a lawsuit.

Jack banged his tooth on it and then he fell right off of it when he was sitting on its forehead. That last may have been off-label use, however.

Park designers: I am available to consult. Really. Call me.

Homework and Orange Love

noreply@blogger.com (Stimey) — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 03:34:00 +0000

I feel like there is one post that I could just put up over and over again, every six months or so. When Jack's homework tonight sent me into a tailspin that triggered doubts about the rightness of his entire educational plan, I was about to write that post again.

After more than an hour of coercing Jack into completing three answers on his homework (which was about 5% of what he was supposed to do tonight), I released him. I figured that if the prospect of doing all that homework felt incredibly bleak to me, it must feel even worse for Jack.

Then he went and played school in his room. I don't get him sometimes.

Tiger's View Elementary School, naturally.

I wrote an email to his teacher and I didn't send it. I started to write a post here and then I decided not to. I got in a fight with Sam and took a time out upstairs. I came downstairs just as Alex was putting the kiddos to bed.

A few minutes later, Sam came out of his room with several notes. The first one said, "Roses are red, violets are blue, but my love for you is orange." The second one said, "I'm very happy, but my love for you is larger." (I'm not quite sure what it is larger than, but that's okay.) This was the third one:

Rainbows have always been his specialty.

Somehow, even when I feel like I'm doing everything wrong, one of my kids comes along to show me that I'm doing something right. God forbid there is ever a day when all three of them send me down the rabbit hole at the same time.

I'll deal with the school stuff. I'll think about it tomorrow. But tonight, I'm going to enjoy some orange love.

I'm lucky to have those guys.

*****

Speaking of parenting and how I'm, you know, super awesome and infallible at it, I wrote a White Knuckle Parenting column on Tuesday about my parenting resolutions for the coming year. (Not to be confused with my running resolution, which I have been kicking ass at, by the way.)

The Pursuit of Happyness

noreply@blogger.com (Stimey) — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 04:34:00 +0000

Jack wanted to show me something this morning. By the time I wandered downstairs to see what it was, this is what I encountered:

In case you can't see what it is he had set up shop to sell, here is a close-up of his sign:

The only problem with his business plan is that he can't help giving away happyness for free. He kind of spreads it wherever he goes. It's hard to sell it when it already follows you around. Although this was a better try than his last plan, which was to sell empty boxes at his school for $20 each.

Maybe my favorite part of Jack's sales pitch is that he was offering incentives with his happyness. Jack's happyness comes with fruit juice and a bowl of goldfish crackers—as well as a reminder that you need to pay your $10 tomorrow for more happyness.

For a kid who works so hard and has a fair amount of odds stacked against him, Jack is doing all right. I check in regularly with him to see if he spends more time happy or sad and he usually ends up in the happy column. This week, he has happyness to spare. There is really nothing else in life that I want him to have more; there is nothing else in life that makes me happier.

Sorry kid. If happyness is your product, you're going to have to get used to giving it away for free.

I Choose to Run: Reprise

noreply@blogger.com (Stimey) — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 04:01:00 +0000

I like the first post of the year. It feels very blank slate-y. It is also very pressure filled. Like, for some reason, my first post of the new year can't be all, "And here is a funny photograph of a mouse." Unless, of course, it is a REALLY motherfucking funny photo.

And I don't have one of those.

The first post is also a good time to post a resolution, which I usually don't do because, c'mon. Resolutions? That just smacks of, what's the word I'm looking for here? Oh, yes: TRYING.

It seems terribly unhip to, you know, TRY to do something. It also seems...hard.

But there is one thing I really, really want to do this year: run. I started this effort last year and had some success, but not as much as I'd hoped. I had been running most days and then October and November and our bad luck sidelined me and then I got out of the habit. But I'm back, baby. This year, I RESOLVE TO RUN. 2012 will be the Year of Effort for me. I am going to Try.

I originally posted what is written below at The DC Moms when I started running this fall. I post it again here because I plan to treat this resolution like it's my fucking job. I still have time before spring. I'll get there.

*****

I used to be a runner.

I mean, I wasn’t a marathoner or anything, but I was someone who would run 15 to 20 miles a week and who could run six miles in an hour and still feel pretty okay.

I worked out up to mere days before the births of my first two children. I ran a 12K race up and down San Francisco streets six months after my first son was born. I loved the way it made me feel.

Then inertia gripped me with her warm, cozy hands and told me tales of a lifestyle full of sitting on couches and not running up and down flights of stairs, which I used to do not because I left my bowl of ice cream upstairs, but because it was good exercise. That inertia is trouble, man.

This marriage with inertia has led me to a place where when I look at my life, the one thing that stands out that makes me unhappy is my lack of fitness. Here’s the great thing about this unhappiness though: I can change it; I can become more fit. Hopefully if I do, my husband will stop telling me that I’m not very jolly for a fat person—and my follow-up with a punch to his gut will be stronger.

Which brings us to my current effort to run every day that my kids are in school. I put my running clothes right next to my bed, so I can roll out of bed in the morning, tie up my shoes, drop my kids at school, and hit the treadmill. If you see me at 2 p.m. still in track pants, you know I failed in my running goal for the day.

I started by queuing up all 23 discs of The Wire in my Netflix account, dusted off my treadmill, did some stretching, and set off for Day One of Project Improvement. This is how it went:

Minute One: I am awesome! I feel great! I am going to run my way into fitness!

Minute Three: I. Am. Going. To. Die.

Here’s something you may not know—if you don’t exercise for six years, that first step back on the treadmill will likely hurl you off the back into a bookshelf. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

I think you can imagine how that first workout went from there. About 25 minutes into my run, which was rapidly turning into a run/walk, I started wishing that I’d begun my running regimen with Entourage, or any other half-hour show on the planet, up to and including Two and a Half Men, which I would have happily watched if it meant I could have gotten off of the treadmill at 22 minutes.

Note: I do not endorse watching Two and a Half Men as an exercise technique or, really, for any other purpose.

At 45 minutes, when I realized that The Wire was an HBO show and therefore has no commercial breaks, meaning I had to keep moving for a full hour instead of just 42 minutes, I started to cry.

Okay, I didn’t cry, but I was a little sad. And I might have said some curse words.

Here’s the thing though: I kept moving for a full hour. Then I did the same thing the next day and the next day. And I hope to keep doing it. Sure, I only traveled three miles in that hour instead of six, but that’s three miles more than I traveled last week.

Now that I’ve broken up with Inertia, I have to find a way to start a relationship with Perseverance. I’m awesome at starting things, less good at following through. That’s why I’m watching a multi-season TV show to keep me interested.

By the time I work my way through The Wire, Breaking Bad, and Sons of Anarchy, I figure that I’ll be down at least a couple of dress sizes and be able to run to the school bus stop without breaking a sweat—and probably have picked up a nasty drug habit, based on my entertainment of choice.

I want this to stick this time. I need this to stick this time. Clearly my desperate attempt to blend couch potato with runner shows you this? And before you say “Go outside,” I should let you know that I’m not ready to run with (or near) The People yet. Maybe by spring.

Because by spring? I’m going to have to find a new thing to be unhappy about.

Team Stimey's Year in Review

noreply@blogger.com (Stimey) — Sun, 01 Jan 2012 04:59:00 +0000

It's New Year's Eve. You are probably out partying. I am sitting home alone. Well, my children are here, in their beds. NOT asleep.* Alex is in New York at a Phish show. As I do not care much for New Year's Eve (I will be awake until midnight, but only because I am ALWAYS awake until midnight), I will spend this time looking back at last year instead of drinking heavily to obliterate it.

In January, I started my year with a dramatic social anxiety attack on my first trip to the National Press Club for a book launch. Maybe the best part of that whole scene was when I panicked after seeing a line of people waiting for a bus. Anxiety is a powerful foe. I did, however, also demonstrate when I don't have anxiety, and that is when I am at home alone competing against people who don't know I exist. January closed with one of the worst dental appointments in the history of time. At least up to then.

In February, I headed off to the National Gallery of Art when my mom came to town to visit. I was only reprimanded once by a guard. I also had to participate in some (wild, but invasive) mouse killin'.

I started March by freaking out about not being able to figure out how to get Jack to do...ANYTHING that he doesn't want to. This was the beginning of brainstorming a solution, which resulted in a system where Jack's cooperation at school earned him tallies, which in turn, earned him video game time at after school. We still use that system. I also cooked Brussels sprouts.

April was eventful. It began with a trip to Seattle to visit Nintendo headquarters to celebrate the launch of the Nintendo 3DS. It was all kinds of awesome. Because of the ads I was running at the time, my post ended up on my review blog. I also launched Stimeyland's Facebook page. Feel free to join us over there to chat!

Jack's hockey tournament in Boston took place at the end of April and counts as one of the high points of my year. It's possible that Jack feels differently. The four days Jack and I spent away for the tournament were profoundly moving, from the opening ceremonies to our return home.

Looking back on May, it seems that not a whole lot of groundbreaking things happened. Although both Jack and Quinn had birthdays and Sam tasted his first margarita.

June brought about the conclusion of dental hell. I also gave you the back story of the dental nightmare that had taken place since that January appointment mentioned above. We also bought a "Ready for Use" pool that was anything but.

In June and July I continued to pretend that I run Camp Stimey even though I don't really do it very well anymore. Nonetheless, I summarized many of the Camp Stimey activities that I'd planned for my kids since Camp Stimey started way back in the day.

I spent July driving Jack back and forth to summer camp, while I whiled away the days with Quinn and Sam. We did things like causing a commotion in front of Eric Holder and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and doing the same all by ourselves at home.

We lost our first mice, Scabbers and Poseidon, in early August. That month, Team Stimey also went on vacation in Colorado and New Mexico and puked our way across the country. This was also about the time that people started to email me every time someone in their family horked in a location that was not a toilet or a dedicated barf bowl. I take a strange satisfaction in the knowledge that for a certain group of you, whenever your well laid plans go to shit, I am the first person you think of. Our reputation is not undeserved.

That August vacation also brought Algernon to Team Stimey. I introduced him to you in September. And don't forget that day that Alex didn't run over a squirrel.

~~October~~ Sucktober destroyed us. We just fixed the car heater that broke back then a couple of weeks ago. And we never did find those shoes that Jack hid.

In November, I wrote one of my top-five favorite Stimeyland posts ever, Not Even Wrong. That month also saw the end of Whiskers the mouse, may she rest in peace.

This December saw my first ever trip to Disney World, which I consistently mis-grammaticized as "Disneyworld" every time I wrote it. Once I discovered that I had done this, the copy editor inside me (who wanted to go back and change my errors) went to war with the anti-revisionist inside me (who refuses to make after-the-fact changes). I eventually decided to call attention to my mistake in my year-in-review post. Also, Algernon went to Disney. Oh, and there was some sort of holiday event.

So, there are my highlights from the past year. There are probably more, but it is 11:50 p.m. on New Year's Eve and I'm tired and out of time. I also wrote a lot on other non-Stimeyland sites, but I don't have the energy to recap any of that.

Happy New Year, my friends. I know that 2011 was so hard for so many of you. To you, I wish you a much better 2012. You are in my thoughts.

For Team Stimey, 2011 was its usual mix of ups and downs. I made a lot of new friends this year and deepened friendships with others. I saw my children become even more amazing people than they were last year, and Alex and I settled even deeper into the realization that no one else on Earth would put up with being married to either one of us.

Thank you to all of you who were part of our 2011. Here is hoping that 2012 is interesting and fun. Happy New Year!

* I wrote that sentence at noon, but I am POSITIVE it is true at 10 p.m. (Editor's note: It was.)

The Cheetah Nation

noreply@blogger.com (Stimey) — Fri, 30 Dec 2011 04:08:00 +0000

Warning: I got sidetracked several times while writing this post. The narrative is not what you would call "smooth." Hang in there. Good luck and Godspeed!

The DC area is really lucky in that we have three special needs hockey teams really close by. Four, if you count Baltimore. Whereas a lot of special hockey teams don't have opportunities to play games very often, we are able to meet and compete on a regular basis.

Yesterday (and the day before), Jack's team and the other two area special hockey teams had a little mini-tournament. Team Stimey missed the first day because we were enjoying the air and space museum and the dentist. But we were able to see how it went, because the Cheetahs were on the news! See the story here! So very cool.

We did, however, attend yesterday, and Jack played in both games that his squad played. It was tiring. For Jack too.

You know what is adorable? Jack. You know what's even more adorable? Jack on ice skates in his Montgomery Cheetahs game uniform. I show you a lot of grainy, poorly lit photos of the back of Jack's jersey or pictures of him on the bench because I rarely manage to get a picture of his face while he's on the ice. I am a terrible photographer. If someone wants to teach me some sports photography, both me and the Cheetah Nation that has to look at my photos would be grateful.

I also, incidentally, really enjoy that the team director calls the team families the Cheetah Nation because every single time it makes me think of the Raider Nation and I imagine some crazy dude in cheetah facepaint and spikes on his jersey making a scene in the front row of the local ice rink. The imagery pleases me.

Anywho. I finally got this photo:

We can't seem to convince him to skate with his stick on the ice.

It's a little blurry. I don't know what setting I had my camera on. Maybe the little running guy one? I would think that would be the right one, but it doesn't seem to be. Anyway, Jack is still adorable, even if he's a little fuzzy.

The rink where we had the tournament was extremely cold, even for an ice rink. Fortunately, we'd been warned by the Tournament Day One-ers, so we'd brought blankets. If not for his blanket and one of the coaches who got off of the ice to hide under the blanket with him, Jack might not have made it through the first game. Do you see why I love this team? There aren't even words.

He's cute here too.

Funny story about that blanket. My really wonderful friend Joeymom made—MADE—blankets for my kids with thought and love tied into them. I sent her kids a bag of stuffed rats. I should repeat that: I SENT HER A BAG OF RATS. I am so much the friend you wish you had. To her credit, she loves me anyway.

Let's back away slowly from the topic of my inability to properly maintain my side of a relationship and return to hockey.

Someday Jack is going to learn the love of the game as worth working past his (dis)comfort level—or he'll score a goal—and his motivation will increase until he can make it through a whole game without freaking out and collapsing onto the ice in a Gandhian show of nonviolent resistance. Until then, he will entertain the spectator bench with episodes such as this:

Face down. Thank God for his face guard.

He laid there for a really long time. Eventually some coaches came by and poked him with their sticks.

No response.

The game went on around Jack. Although, honestly, Jack wasn't the only kid to lie down on the ice during that game. Apparently Jack and his coach had a whole conversation down there on the ice. It consisted partly of Jack saying, "I wish hockey had never been invented," and the coach telling Jack, "The zombies are coming!"

The zombie thing worked. He sped off down

the rink with a huge smile on his face.

In the coach's defense, Jack spent weeks at the beginning of the season telling him all about Plants vs. Zombies after every practice. Whereas so many adults don't listen when kids go off on stuff like that, this coach really does. He asks questions about the game. He uses it to connect with Jack. It is soul-filling to watch.

(Of course, when Jack abruptly changed obsessions from the zombie game to Kirby's Return to Dreamland, it caused some confusion.)

In all seriousness, Jack is getting so good at skating. Every game, he gets closer and closer to skating in proximity to the puck. Every game, he manages to hit the puck a few more times. Every game, his meltdown comes later in the game. And every game he gets more connected to his team.

I feel like I've been pretty lucky in my life, but whatever course that brought Jack and me to these people and this team? Well, that is extraordinary luck.

Even if my tiny player wishes the game had never been invented. Go, Cheetah Nation!

"I Hated it Googleplex."

noreply@blogger.com (Stimey) — Wed, 28 Dec 2011 05:05:00 +0000

You know how sometimes you have a great idea for a place to take your kids that you know they will LOVE and so you drag your whole damn family there and at the end of the trip, your six-year-old busts out with the most creative way he could possibly say, "Why, Mom? Why did you drag us here?"

Yep. Today. Quinn hated it Googleplex.

Although to be fair, he was just trying to outdo Jack, who said, "I hated it 100 percent. I loved it zero percent."

I should back up.

Today Jack had a dentist appointment. You may remember our dental horror from earlier this year. I was pretty sure that this trip for a routine cleaning was going to involve a toothbrush, some shrieking (Jack), and some gentle sobbing (me). Instead, Jack let the most awesome hygienist in the world fully clean his teeth with her tools.

It was kind of a big deal, guys.

It was an amazing and wonderful visit and began with the lady at the front desk asking me if Jack would like a private room because he has autism and ended with Jack reluctantly letting the dentist put her sharp little pokey stick on his teeth. It was more than I could have hoped for. Especially since his teeth still look good.

But, since the dental office is an hour away from my house, I thought we should take advantage of the trip by doing something waaaay out in Virginia. Hence our trip to hell, otherwise known as the National Air and Space Musuem Stephen F. Udvar-Hazy Center.

I'd dragged the whole family out to Virginia to go to the museum, although the trip to the dentist office waiting room with its giant TV and air hockey table probably would have been enough for Sam and Quinn. (Seriously, if you need a dentist recommendation, email me. If you need museum recommendations, maybe ask someone else.)

In defense of the aerospace industry, Udvar-Hazy is cool. My kids were just not ready for most of it.

If you have an airplane kid, they will freak the hell out though.

The real reason I wanted to go to Udvar-Hazy, however, is because they have a real-life space shuttle there. The shuttle that is there now is Enterprise, which never went into space. It will be replaced, I believe, with the space shuttle Discovery, which DID go to space, at which point I will drag my family back and we will have the exact same experience, just with more forewarning this time.

Seriously, people. It's cool, right?

We did have points of fun and interest dotted around the museum, including this model of the Mars Rover. Jack looked at it for a while and was all, "I WANT IT."

We all love that little rover.

Seriously, ever since the days when we watched Roving Mars over and over and over, we have all loved the Mars Rover. If you haven't seen Roving Mars, watch it immediately. The bigger the screen the better. That way you will really get to see the expressions on the NASA nerds' faces when they get their first images from Mars and erupt into cheers. (My nerds and I also erupted into cheers every single day when we watched it happen on our television.)

Anywho, there was some whining and some lying on the floor and some "Mom, I don't want to disappoint you, but I really hate this place." (Jack and Quinn, Jack, Quinn, respectively.)

Then, on the way home, the little gas gauge that says, "238 miles to empty," went all the way down to "0 miles to empty," which fortunately didn't mean "your car will now stop on the beltway," but I was afraid that was what was going to happen.

Suffice it to say, once we got home, I took a really long nap. I have no idea what the rest of my family did.

Now it is 11:30 and my eyes are all, "BING! WE'RE AWAKE!!" This is a problem because Alex is hogging the TV playing Skyrim, which, incidentally, involves no aliens and doesn't take place on the rim of the sky, which is a HUGE disappointment to me. I suppose I'm going to have to go, sigh, read until I fall asleep.

Or I can use my time to think of other ways to torture my kids over winter break. Maybe I'll do that instead.

*****

So, you know how today went. Do you want to know how Team Stimey is planning on surviving the rest of winter "break"? Check today's White Knuckle Parenting at the Wheaton Patch.

Our Holiday

noreply@blogger.com (Stimey) — Tue, 27 Dec 2011 04:59:00 +0000

It seems important that I post some sort of follow-up post to let you all know how Christmas went. I think it is in the blogging contract somewhere. Our Christmas was lovely. Although Quinn was an teensy bit upset that we never lighted a menorah like we did last year.

Otherwise, it was all lovely.

Sam got to be one of Santa's elves this year, which was really cool. I was not completely pleased with his stocking stuffing technique, but he made up for it with enthusiasm. He was just about the cutest elf I could have hoped for. He refused to go to bed until after he helped, which was a problem, because Jack took a loooooong time to fall asleep.

He still managed to wake up early though!

We had a very mellow day. We didn't go anywhere. No one visited. We barely even talked to anyone on the phone. We cozied up, the five of us, and played and ate and napped and had a lovely, chill Christmas.

Our Christmas was all about video games and board games. So many games. So much fun!

Also Legos, in the form of a Millennium Falcon.

Oh, right. And weapons.

I love that photo of my tiny assassin. I'm not going to name names, but Quinn wasn't the person who accidentally shot the dog between the eyes with that dart gun. I'm not going to name names, but his has an "x" in it and it rhymes with Schmalex.

The only disappointment of Christmas is that we weren't able to take down our tree today as I'd hoped, which means I have to suffer one more day of Christmas spirit, which I am officially done with.

I hope you all had a wonderful day as well! Now, onward to other things! Like all the dentist appointments I scheduled for this week! Yay! (Not.)

Merry Christmas 2011

noreply@blogger.com (Stimey) — Sun, 25 Dec 2011 05:47:00 +0000

You should all know how much you mean to me. I am so very grateful for you every day. Thank you for reading. Thank you for commenting and emailing. Thank you for letting me talk at you. Thank you for everything. I am so thankful for my Stimeyland community. May you have the happiest of holidays.

For Anna and Tim and Margaret, But Especially for Jack

noreply@blogger.com (Stimey) — Sat, 24 Dec 2011 04:44:00 +0000

You probably remember Anna, who lost her son, Jack, in September. I think about them every single day. I can't imagine how painful this Christmas will be for them.

Anna has written that she is lifted by seeing blue ribbons around her neighborhood that people have put up for Jack. Others have photographed their blue ribbons for the family. It's not a lot, but this is what I can do.

Anna, Tim, Margaret, this tree is for you. I tied each of those ribbons with love and remembrance. We are not forgetting Jack.

I am sending all my love to your whole family this holiday season.

Christmas Notes and Autism Links

noreply@blogger.com (Stimey) — Fri, 23 Dec 2011 04:41:00 +0000

Tomorrow is gift card day for my kids' teachers, bus drivers, paras, and random folks they pass in the hall. Both Sam and Quinn wanted to write their own cards for their teachers, which was awesome.

Sam...I'm so proud I almost can't say it...Sam made a pun in his.

My boy.

Quinn went the more obvious route of totally sucking up.

So sweet.

*****

You guys. No really. YOU GUYS. Guess what? THIS is here:

You can buy this most excellent book about autism at Amazon. Mine just came yesterday and I am blown away by the essays in it. There are some phenomenal contributors to this book, and I have to say that I am super proud to be counted among them. I am in some incredible company.

Along those same lines, I wrote about some great autism books at Autism Unexpected.

Furthermore, in my effort to write as many lists as humanly possible this week, I also wrote "Top Ten: Joys of parenting an autistic child" for the Washington Times Communities. That one is in a different location than my normal columns, so it won't pop up in your reader even if you subscribe to Autism Unexpected.

*****

I can't think of a good way to end this sort of all-over-the-place post. Ooooh, wait! I know! I'll end with the greatest picture ever of Alex and I, courtesy of Quinn.

I look crazy, but Alex is spot on. Okay. I'm spot on too.

Aaaaaaaaand good night.

Algernon Does Disney

noreply@blogger.com (Stimey) — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 16:51:00 +0000

I'm pretty sure at least some of you have been waiting for this. (Some of you are probably rolling your eyes right now.) Go get some coffee (or soda, in honor of me) while the photos load and then come back and read about Algernon's epic trip to Disneyworld.

Several of you have expressed interest in where exactly Algernon's little Disney hat came from. Yeah, you and everybody he ran into at Disney. Honestly, that little hat made me look even crazier than usual. But, to be fair, it also made me look way awesomer than usual.

You've probably already guessed that the hat came from Heather. She claims that it came from a Christmas tree ornament and was not, in fact, sewn from scratch by her loving but slightly deranged hands.

Algernon was just happy that it fit PERFECTLY.

Algernon was really excited for his trip to Disneyworld, but he was kinda pissed that we made him sit in the middle seat on the plane.

He complained A LOT about the lack of leg room.
We were all, "SHUT UP, ALGERNON!"

Nevertheless, he was determined to save us lest the plane go down.

"Okay. Oxygen mask on me first, THEN help Stimey and Heather."

It was way past Algernon's bedtime by the time we landed in Florida, but he wasn't so tired that he neglected to check his bed for snakes.

Nope, not there.

We woke up at the crack of early the next day to find Algernon already dressed and ready for us. He was excited.

OMG! OMG! OMG!

We were, naturally, at the Magic Kingdom before it opened, where Algernon was totally obnoxious about having his photo taken.

"CHEESE!" (Get it? 'Cause he's a mouse?)

Unfortunately, Algernon was no better at deciphering the map than I was. We decided it would be better to stick together than to split up.

"We're here. Which means Mickey is where now?"

I took this next photo at lunchtime, shortly before I took a photo of a small salamander that hung out with us. And before Heather gets all eye-rolly about my photos of, you know, ACTUAL nature (ducks and squirrels are awesome, by the way), I should point out that little salamanders don't hang out near me that often in Maryland.

Algernon is looking at the giant sandwich made with

waffles instead of bread that I was eating.

Algernon waited patiently until late afternoon to meet Mickey. I do believe that I have beat you over the head enough with the photos of Algernon and Mickey, so I will just share with you this last one.

Even Minnie was jealous after this.

When we went to watch the Beauty and the Beast stage show, Algernon jumped in to help at the sound board.

He wrecked the whole show.

One of the things I really enjoyed about Disneyworld was the hats. People—who probably don't normally wear silly things on their persons—put some way crazy shit on their heads. Comparatively, Heather and Algernon were pretty tame.

But super adorable.

Hey, remember when Team Stimey went to the ice show and Quinn put his Shrek ears on his butt?

It's almost like my parenting is to blame.

At some point over the weekend, we decided to go to some of the resorts to look at the Christmas decorations. Our first stop was the Grand Floridian, which is the fancy schmancy resort. They had a lot of beautiful decorations, including this awesome person-sized gingerbread house.

See Algernon on the gold post base?

This is the first place that anyone gave me the side-eye for taking a photo of Algernon. Rich people are less fun. Stupid 1%. #occupythegingerbreadhouse

Or it could be because Algernon went past the velvet rope.

We headed upstairs for a better view and, seriously, it's almost like the Grand Floridian ENTRAPPED ME.

This time it was Heather who gave me the side eye.

Eventually Algernon ended up in more approved photo-taking locales.

You can't tell, but he's fake screaming in there.

Heather was even willing to get in on some of the action.

They're so cute.

We had a close call in the gift shop when Algernon fell in with a bad crowd, who tried to jump him in to their gang.

Mine! Mine! Mine! Mine!

Fortunately, we were able to find an appropriately sized drink to calm Algernon's nerves after his harrowing experience.

Of course it was banana-flavored and from Pakistan, but...

He was happier at lunch with a more sizable vat of caffeine.

Those vats of caffeine were also saviors for me more than once.

On our last day, we visited all the country showcases at Epcot. Algernon, being Algernon, demanded that we take his photo in every single showcase.

France:

Croissant! Oui, oui!

England:

"Oh, 'ello, old chap."

Canada:

Algernon: Lumberjack

Morocco:

It was while taking this photo that someone was all, "There has to be a story behind this," and all I could think is, "Yeah, it's that I'm an idiot."

See what I mean about weird headwear?

Japan:

I don't know why, but I love those cats.

And this was for my munchkins.

The United States:

It's a metaphor.

Italy:

Seriously. I keep running into those terrifying stone angels from Doctor Who. They are EVERYWHERE. I texted Alex a photo of this one with the message, "Don't blink." His response? "Not cool."

Algernon backed away from this angel very, very slowly.

In happier news, Algernon found someone else to pose with as well.

Heather wore mouse ears in every country that had them.

Germany:

It had never occurred to me that Snow White is from Germany, but it makes sense when I think about it. I had my photo taken with her and I'm a little pissed at how much more put together she was than me. I also didn't mean for Algernon to be the centerpiece of our conversation, but I guess when you're wearing a stuffed mouse with Mickey ears on your finger, Snow White is going to ask you about him.

She asked me his name and then she asked me what his nickname was and I couldn't think of anything, but it seemed like she needed an answer, so I said "Algie," which in my mind then became "Algae." I'm so sorry, Algae.

I think the expression on her face says it all.

China:

Algernon wanted to pose with another warrior in China.

I just now figured out that this was a dragon and not a lion.

And still another warrior.

Mouse friends!!

Norway:

You've seen me in front of the troll, now see Algernon!

Algernon also spent some time in the troll's mouth. He's a weirdo.

Mexico:

Mexico was our last stop. We'd actually been to Mexico before and made this stop solely to get a photo of Algernon. It's nice to travel with like-minded people.

Olé!

After all three days full of Disney fun, some of which I didn't even show you (you are welcome), Algernon was exhausted. Exhausted. (He wasn't the only one.)

Sleep well, sweet mouse.

I now promise that Stimeyland will be Disney-free for at least several months. Promise.

The Tale of Team Stimey and the Mall Santa

noreply@blogger.com (Stimey) — Sun, 18 Dec 2011 19:21:00 +0000

We normally would have gone to see Santa last weekend, but I kind of blew that for my family, so we had to go to the mall with the rest of the late-season losers this year. Our mall Santa usually doesn't have a line, which I don't know what that says about our mall Santa, but it's worked out for us.

Evidently even our mall Santa has a line the Sunday before Christmas though.

And these jokers stood in it.

We had carefully coached our children ("You may not want to ask for the Lego Death Star, Jack.") on the things that Santa is able to bring on Christmas Eve. ("Santa may not understand what the Fully Resurrected Mechto-Baku-Whatthefuck is any more than I do, Quinn.") Somehow, Sam, who has known there is no Santa for almost a year now, turned into a believer for an hour this afternoon. ("You probably don't need to take the catalog page to show Santa EXACTLY what you want, Sam. Why don't you just let me hold that for you?")

There was some sort of stand off here.

They always take the photo first before the kiddos tell Santa what they want for Christmas. I think that our photo this year turned out GREAT!

What's that? I have three children? Are you sure? Okay, fine. Here.

Are you happy now?

Seriously, this photo makes me so happy for so many reasons. I feel a little bad enjoying it so much considering how sad Quinn was when it was being taken, but there you have it. He did manage to tell Santa what he wanted for Christmas, although based on my Google and in-store searches, I'm not sure that it actually exists.

We did head over to the mall Target immediately after visiting Santa to, you know, just take a look at what you asked Santa for. No real reason. Just curious. Oh, and now that you've shown us (a) what you asked for, or (b) what you would be happy with as a substitute if Santa's elves can't make what you asked for, why don't you go with Daddy out that door, while Mommy just hangs out here for a minute and then meets you at the car with a shopping bag hidden behind her back?

And that's how Team Stimey does Santa.

It's Like Christmas Barfed All Over That Tree*

noreply@blogger.com (Stimey) — Sun, 18 Dec 2011 03:34:00 +0000

We finally put up our Christmas tree last week. We let the munchkins take the lead this year. They found the tinsel and the bead garlands and they clumped ornaments and they left the back totally naked and it cracks me up every time I look at it. When it was all over, Alex was all, "It's a little garish." And, oh jeez, it is. But it's perfect too.

The kids are a little goofy too.

Now all I have to do is ALL OF MY SHOPPING and then I'll be ready for Christmas.

* Which is actually kind of apropos for Team Stimey.

My Favorite Things About My Trip to Disneyworld

noreply@blogger.com (Stimey) — Fri, 16 Dec 2011 15:56:00 +0000

My trip to Disneyworld with my friend Heather was awesome. I had a blast. It's all kind of a blur, but I do remember jumping up and down a lot and there was a fair amount of clapping in excitement and we laughed a lot and screamed on roller coasters and ate good food and saw Christmas lights (no "holidays" at Disney, it's all CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!) and in general had an amazing trip.

In my little notebook that I took to jot down notes, however, all I wrote was something Heather said the first night we got to Florida and were getting ready to go to bed before we headed off to Disney the next day: "I have to check the bed for snakes."

And then I never closed my eyes again. Fuck you, Florida.

Which brings me to my list of favorite things about my trip to Disneyworld.

1. There were no snakes in my bed.

2. Heather. This chick is cool, y'all.

(She's the one on the right.)

You know how when you travel with someone for the first time, you never know how it's going to go? Well, fortunately Heather is a delight to travel with. Plus she let me be a little bit crazy (she smiled in all the photos I made her take with Algernon). It helps that she is also a little bit crazy.

3. My first-timer button. Who's never been to Disneyworld, has two thumbs, and likes the extra attention a first-timer button is obviously begging for?

This guy.

4. The incredible details on everything. Disneyworld is this giant land of not letting any object go to waste as set decoration. Everywhere you look, there are incredible details built into everything. This is the case on the rides, in the Christmas decorations, and even on the benches. (Which were something I sought out at every possible opportunity. Disneyworld is GIANT, folks.)

Evil hound, anyone?

5. Not having to plan anything. Heather is one of those people. You know who you are. She had a list of what attractions we were going to when, and God forbid we deviate from the list. (Like that time I tried to stop and take a photo when we were supposed to be speed walking to the Toy Story ride.) Sure, I got yelled at a couple of times, but I didn't have to make any decisions either. In her defense, Heather was even willing to go completely off-itinerary on day two so I could go to the Animal Kingdom, which wasn't on the original plan. I know. Reckless almost.

The itinerary.

6. Vinylmation Alex. Evidently there are these little vinyl mouse-shaped things that are decorated a gajillion different ways and you are supposed to fall in love with them, want to start collecting them, and pay $13.95 a pop to have them in your home. Or you can take a photo of the one that looks like your husband and laugh really, really hard every time you look at it.

It really managed to capture his surliness.

7. Mickey Motherfucking Mouse. I have never been a Mickey fan. I mean, he's okay and all, but whatever, right? Not any more. I met Mickey, and he rocked my world. Whoever it was in that Mickey suit (and the adjacent Minnie suit) WON ME OVER. I asked him if he would hold Algernon for a photo and that mouse hammed it up like nobody's business. I was sold. I'll now empty my bank account and offer it up to Disney. Thank you Mickey; you converted me.

"What's that, Algernon? You're a prisoner? She humiliates you daily?"

8. Embarrassing myself in the Norway section at Epcot by trying to pretend I actually knew something about Norway. Me: "Oh yeah, I've been to Norway a couple of times. My mom used to live in [brutally mispronounce name of town my mom lived in] and we used to visit [the only place I can think of in Norway—oh, and also probably mispronounced]. It's beautiful there. I love Norway! Norway is great!" Dude behind the register who is actually from Norway: "Uh huh."

But at least I got this awesome photo with this giant troll.

9. The wacky hotel we stayed at. We stayed at the Pop Century Resort, which is packed full of giant replicas of things from the various decades of the last half of the last century. That first photo up top? Taken inside a giant Rubik's Cube. (We were in an 80's building.)

Giant floppy discs by the pool. Of course.

10. The look on Heather's face when I asked her if there was any place I could get an apple. See, Star Tours did me in. Too much shaking, 3D, and bad driving by C3PO. We were sitting on the curb, waiting for me to pull it together, and I asked Heather if there was a place I could get an apple because those often make me feel better if I am nauseated. She determined that she would have to walk approximately 6.8 miles to get me one, but that there was a cotton candy stand just over there. Fortunately, I was distracted by a shiny object and ended up not needing the apple.

11. The shiny object.

I hit a tree seconds later.

We had to wait in line behind kids to get this photo. They all sat on the thing and smiled and said cheese. Puh-lease. That's not how you sit on a speeder. I was just sad that there wasn't a wind machine in front of me.

12. Lunch at the drive-in. Heather had made reservations for us for lunch, but refused to tell me where we were going because she wanted it to be a surprise. Good call. It was awesome. The restaurant was set up like a drive-in with sci-fi clips on the movie screen. It was so much fun.

Heather and I got the backseat. *wink, wink*

13. Disney topiary. There are elaborate topiary creations all over Disneyworld of various Disney characters. I loved every single one of them.

Including this one from that horror movie Mickey starred in.

14. My incompetence. Heather left me alone exactly once, to run off to get a fast pass. We had explicit plans on where to meet and I even had a map. I ended up walking in a complete circle and ending up back where we had split up. By the time Heather found me, I was shuffling back and forth in one place trying to figure out how to find a cart to buy a soda. Clearly if you ever want to get rid of me, I won't be that hard to shake.

15. Roller coasters. I hadn't been on a roller coaster in a long time. Turns out they are really, really, really fun.

16. The safari ride at Animal Kingdom. I don't remember what it was called, but we got to see all kinds of awesome animals and it was one of my favorite things. Loved it.

Baby elephant, anyone?

17. Tigger. 'Nuff said.

Although I do wonder about the germs on that cheek.

18. Cinderella's castle at night during Christmas. So pretty. Even to someone with a heart as cold and black as mine.

Right?

19. OMFG FIREWORKS.

This.

20. The realization that not everyone talks to animals. I saw this fish that I really liked, so I said, "Hey, buddy," and then Heather mocked me mercilessly for the rest of the afternoon.

He's cute, right?

21. That they were out of the gross soda. There is this place where you can taste Coke products from around the world, but they were out of one of the types, which upset Heather because, and I quote, "I was looking forward to taking a photo of you tasting that soda." Evidently it is THAT bad. I'm quite relieved that they did not have any.

They DID have adorable tiny cups though.

22. Lunch in France. We ate lunch in France at Epcot. Doing so is maybe the best decision either of us has ever made in our lives. Melted cheese and ham on a croissant? Sooo good.

Also? Chocolate mousse.

23. "Street" performers. There were some fantastic performances scattered about Epcot, including Christmas-specific stories from the various countries. I loved them all.

Especially this one. Although he made me really nervous.

24. Stupid photos with Algernon. Algernon had an excellent time at Disney. I'm hoping to post details from his trip soon. There is a never ending multitude of places to take fun photos with a small stuffed mouse at Disneyworld and its affiliated resorts. Heather jumped right on board too, scouting out locations for shots and occasionally shouting, "Quick! Give me the mouse!" and running off to pose.

Algernon in a fez. What else could you want?

25. Kinder Chocolate.

Heather: "It's made from kids!"

26. It gave me my Christmas spirit back. I was all Grinchy before I left for Disneyworld. But it's hard to stay that way when you're standing in the middle of five million lights. Literally. Five million.

CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!!

27. Now, when I take my kids to Disneyworld, I will know how to do it. My kids would love Disneyworld. They would lose their minds from joy. We're definitely taking them someday, and now I know how to make it amazing for them. (Answer: Take Heather with us.)

Go Here

noreply@blogger.com (Stimey) — Wed, 14 Dec 2011 03:10:00 +0000

Hello! Still tired! Still sorting through photos! But I do have a link for you.

I wrote about my Top Ten Elementary School Annoyances at Patch.com today. It shouldn't surprise you that homework made the list. But I'm also irritated at all the good habits school is instilling in my kids. And a bunch of other stuff. Check it out!

I Drank the Kool-Aid

noreply@blogger.com (Stimey) — Mon, 12 Dec 2011 17:30:00 +0000

I am back from Disneyworld, although I woke up at THREE O'DARK this morning to make my bus to my flight, so I can't actually put two coherent thoughts together for you.

What I DO have for you is this:

I may have briefly lost consciousness from the awesomeness of it.

Seriously, Disneyworld was awesome. They totally won me over. Yes, my feet hurt and I feel like I could pass out at any second, but I think that's all part of the Disney experience. That, and getting nauseated on Star Tours.

In case you're wondering, no, I didn't puke at all. Anywhere. For the WHOLE weekend.

Am awesome.

Okay, I'm going to go lie down now because I'm seeing dancing spots in front of my eyes and I don't think they're really there. Real or not, I think it's best to avoid them.

Algernon Takes a Bath & Readies Himself

noreply@blogger.com (Stimey) — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 21:37:00 +0000

Algernon has been a lot of places, some of them clean, some of them dirty, but none filthier than his main home at the bottom of my purse. Needless to say, in the four short months of his Team Stimey participation, he's become less white and more dingy gray.

Come on, Algernon. A little pride in your appearance goes a long way.

I decided that it was time to spiff the little guy up a little bit, so I went on a house-wide search for some Woolite and a sink. Sadly, in my house, if it is not able to be washed in hot water with any color clothing, it doesn't get washed, so I had to use dish detergent.

Algernon was sad.

After the initial dousing, Algernon was able to calm down and enjoy his bubble bath. I mean, I imagine he didn't much care for the dunking and squeezing, but he made the best of it.

Mouse-fro!

Unfortunately, much of Algernon's dirty bits were super ground into his fur, so he came out more off-white than white. To get him truly clean, I think he might have to be thrown in the washing machine set on hot. Rather than putting him through that right after the traumatic bath, however, I instead cuddled him in a towel and told him he was a good mouse.

There, there, Algernon. There, there.

Lest you wonder why it was so imperative that Algernon be cleaned, you should know that it is because he is going on a trip. To say he is mildly excited is to way underestimate his enthusiasm.

But where is he going?

Algernon, you've moved from Colorado to Maryland, gone on many adventures, and taken a bath. What are you going to do next?

I'm going to Disneyworld!

No, really. He is.

My friend Heather is somewhat of a Disney...let's downplay her psychoticness and call her a fan. She had a trip planned, sans children, and I jumped on board her bandwagon faster than you can say, "Alex, if I let you go to New York to see Phish over New Year's, can I go to Disneyworld with Heather?"

Actually, it took just about that long.

That's right, I am taking my very first trip ever to Disneyworld, and I'm not taking my kids. I am mother of the fucking year. Also, I am really happy.

Heather, Algernon, and I are going to take Florida by storm. Although it did worry me just a little bit when Heather told me, "Over the three days we'll be there, we have the potential to be at Disneyworld for 49 hours." My feet already hurt.

Y'all, this is going to be epic.

I'm headed out the door to the airport right after I post this. I'm not sure what my internet situation will be like, but I am pretty sure that I will probably drop into bed each night without the ability to blog. I will, however, probably Facebook and tweet the hell out of this trip. Anyone have hashtag suggestions? #AlgernondoesDisney? #CampStimeysExcellentAdventure? #StimeydropsdeadatHeathersfeet?

Stay tuned!

The Mice Earn Their Keep

noreply@blogger.com (Stimey) — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 05:40:00 +0000

Guess what happened today?

We will scare the living bejesus out of them!

This wasn't even the classroom of any of my kids. I guess one of the kindergarten teachers was teaching her class about mice and wanted some pet mice to visit. Because Quinn mentioned once or twice (or seventeen thousand times) last year that he has pet mice, we were contacted and Squeaky and Gerbil got to go visit the kindergarten!

We started by putting the mice in the middle of the rug and letting the kids notice things about them and ask questions about them.

Terrifying if you're a mouse, no?

Quinn came by to help out as a Mouse Expert.

I think he found the kindergarteners as terrifying as the mice did.

Quinn did manage to hold it together as long as fifteen kindergarteners weren't saying his name in unison. He was even able to answer a lot of the questions the kids had. He also volunteered that we've had three mice die. You're welcome for your upcoming conversations about mortality, kindergarten families.

After the group session, the kids came by in groups of three or four to pet the mice and ask a specific question they had each written out on a note card.

Thankfully the mice didn't bite anyone. And...exhale.

The mice did poop all over my hands, which was not only awesome for me, but memorable for the children. When one of them peed on the table, well, clearly our visit was a success.

After up close and personal time with mouse elimination, the mice went back in the middle of the circle while the kids drew "scientific drawings" of them.

Here is Quinn's:

Part of the science is that Whiskers, who is dead, is there also.

I sent Quinn back to his classroom, where he was supposed to be having indoor recess. Just as I was leaving with the mice, however, he reappeared with a request that he be allowed to show the mice to his class.

And then chaos ensued.

It was like the Pied Piper on opposite day.

Happily I returned home with as many mice as I left with. Although after their morning, the mice may have been ready to pack their (tiny) bags and find a new home. The kindergarteners were all very gentle, but I imagine that the stress was pretty intense for those little guys.

Do you see them in there recovering from the trauma?

No. You don't. Because they are hiding.

I've decided to reward them for their good behavior by not forcing them to dress up in silly little costumes for Christmas. I am nothing if not a benevolent overlord.