Nobody Knows Anything

When we got invited up to Tahoe for winter break, Darin ended up not being able to take the time off, so I took the kids up alone. I sent him a message: “Spring break is April 12 through April 16. Take the days off now.” He immediately filed for vacation, and we talked about perhaps going to Disney World. Extravagant, yes, but we haven’t taken a long vacation for a while. So our plans was: We would leave on the weekend, spend the week in Orlando, fly home the following weekend, using two days for travel.

Then Darin said, “Oh, um, there’s a WebKit conference on Monday and Tuesday of that week.”

Anaheim it is, then.

We decided to drive down late Tuesday night (after Darin’s conference let out) and then spend several days puttering around Disneyland and California Adventure. We took the kids here two years ago, and we figured they’d enjoy it even more this time. I really think they did. They still enjoy being there (some of their friends are already bored with it), and they were willing to try new stuff now.

Some random observations from this visit, in no particular order:

Disneyland

• My 10-year-old daughter enjoys going on rollercoaster rides as much as or more than my 10-year-old self did. Of course, one problem is: I am no longer 10-years-old, and they are not nearly as much fun. I still go on them with her though.
• Sophia would go on Space Mountain non-stop, if given the choice and the ability. I’m assuming that on our next visit to a Magic Kingdom she will have both, as she will be old enough to skedaddle and do whatever the hell she likes, parents or no parents.
• My 7-almost-8-year-old son would like all rollercoasters to cease existence as of right now, thankyouverymuch. So I don’t think his older sister will be dragging him along with her in the future.
• Captain EO is hilarious, and not in a good way. It is SO Eighties that at one point a monster morphs into a dancer with a gelled-up pouf and the audience laughed. We finally see the evil queen morph into Anjelica Huston…and immediately Michael Jackson’s head fills the frame, as though we can’t possibly focus on someone else for even a second. And the song redefines forgettable.
• Sophia said, “I couldn’t tell if Captain EO was a boy or a girl.” So many things I left unsaid at that point.
• Darin managed to deduce that the voice of the pilot for Star Tours is Paul Reubens, and the Internet backs him up. Therefore this information is TRUE.
• The kids cannot get enough of Pirates of the Caribbean and the Haunted Mansion. Some things never change. It is still funny to hear the voice of Tony the Tiger in both places.
• My kids have no idea who Tony the Tiger is. Go me!
• Two years ago, at the Haunted Mansion, Simon looked at the paintings in the spooky hallway (the ones that change from things like a beautiful lady to a cat lady when the lighting flashes) and said, “Projection.” In his 5-year-old voice, with a little boy lisp, it came out, “Pwojeckshun,” and it was hilarious. He is, of course, right. Which is kind of amazing for a 5-year-old in the first place.
• The part of the Haunted Mansion that features married couples where apparently the wives murdered the husbands: guys, violence isn’t any funnier directed toward men. In fact, it’s DISTURBING. (Oh, I see from Wikipedia I was right: I didn’t remember this bit from my childhood, and I guess I wasn’t paying attention two years ago, and it is in fact new.)
• Also a big fave: It’s a Small World! The classics, they never stop. Kind of hilarious that a bunch of dolls singing the same song over and over again would be so attractive, but it really is.

California Adventure

• Soarin’ Over California at California Adventure should be titled, “Stuff you will never have in Kansas, no matter how much Amazon Prime you have.” If you’re visiting California Adventure run, do not walk, to this attraction first.
• The Aladdin stage show is really good. I was expecting some kind of halfassed song and dance thing with a fog machine, and it’s practically a Broadway musical with special effects.
• The “Turtle Talk with Crush!” animation show is hilarious. There’s a large screen, and Crush from “Finding Nemo” swims by to talk to everyone. Then he picks out people in the audience to talk to and ask questions of. The animation is seamless—I have no idea how Crush moves and appears to be looking at various people—and the actor doing it was very talented.
• Lots of vegetarian options for meals here, btw. (Dunno about vegan, but vegetarian definitely.) Also: lots of places to get an alcoholic drink, in case you can’t get through your day without a cocktail. So if you’re finishing your day at Disneyland, bummed that for another year running you haven’t gotten into Club 33 and you really need to tie one on, hie thee across the plaza to California Adventure and drink up.

Other

• I know it’s beaten into them. I know they’re trained to do this and it’s a manipulation technique and I’m being played. But oh my GOD was every single staff member I dealt with at our hotel wonderful and cheerful. Before the trip I called to tell them that we were going to be arriving hella late, and the young man I talked to was just so happy to answer my questions and put lots of notes about my requests in my file! And every time I called the front desk the operators were so thrilled to be helping me! The technique seriously works: I felt really good about staying there! I can think of so many businesses that could take a fucking page from the Disney indoctrination technique.
• The Grand Californian (where we stayed) is really a good hotel. (Well, except for the toilet in our room, which kept malfunctioning. But I assume that wasn’t a feature.) The design is great, the distance to the parks and to Downtown Disney is excellent, and the way that so many rooms have a queen plus bunk beds just screams, “We know who our clientele are and what they want!”
• We were in the park early one morning and I saw a Disney cast member (not “employee”! that’s “cast member” to you!) walking by in costume holding a Starbucks cup. If she’d been texting on an iPhone she could have hit the Corporate Hegemony Trifecta.
• If you live in Southern California and are like, “WTF? Darin and Diane didn’t let us know they were coming?” please to take comfort in the fact that we didn’t tell anyone. We spent the entire time just as a foursome, and it worked out really, really well (better than I expected, if I may be so honest). We spent all day every day together, except for when one of us took the kids to the pool and the other one stayed in the room.
• The Napa Rose restaurant is really good. Ate there twice. I recommend the starters over the entrees, but then again, I was completely full on two starters.
• The Steakhouse 55 restaurant at the Disneyland Hotel is okay. I think the praise it’s gotten is a little overblown, or maybe people are just so happy to find a place that’s halfway decent around here.
• The Blue Bayou at Pirates was pretty good, though expensive. You have to ask to sit by the bayou though! Epic fail on our part.
• Man, has the Disneyland Hotel changed since the first time I stayed there. The first time, when I flew out from the East Coast with my family (I was probably…8?), there was one hotel. The second time, when I was 10 or 11, there were two hotels and a big lagoon where we had paddle boats. Now it’s a gigantic conference center with three towers and no paddle boats. Plus all of these other hotels (including the Grand Californian, where we stayed.) And Downtown Disney. And…well, it’s just quite impressive what they’ve done with the place.

And now the question I’ll leave you with: after you visit all of the continents (including Antartica) in It’s A Small World, you visit an area where we get a repeat of a number of the dolls…only this time, everyone’s wearing all white. Does the last section represent the Afterlife?

Actual conversation, just now:

[scrippet]
A BOY
Can I try the dish ratatouille?

HIS MOM
Of course! I don’t know where to get it, though.

A BOY
I do! Paris!

HIS MOM
I see. And when are you going to Paris?

A BOY
February 2010.

HIS MOM
You’re going to Paris in February 2010?

A BOY
(skipping downstairs)
Sophia! We’re going to Paris in February!
[/scrippet]

You know, I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find myself in the City of Lights ’round about seven months from now.

Today during lunch Simon asked me, “What does ‘smart’ mean?”

Man, I hate it when the kids ask me definitions of words. Especially when I haven’t had any warning that it’s coming, like maybe in conversation. We hadn’t been talking at all. He just asked it out of the blue.

“Well, it means you know a lot of things. Or that you can figure things out really fast.”

“Oh.” He nodded. “That means I’m smart.”

“Why, yes. I guess it does.”

I have my work cut out for me, don’t I?

Recently we’ve been on a home improvement kick. We’re seriously thinking about remodeling the kitchen and all four bathrooms (and now that we’ve got a ballpark figure of how much that would cost, we’re…still thinking about it, but not exactly diving into the idea). While we were at the San Jose Home and Garden show, we bought some vintage European posters to hang up — I slightly freaked out at the price, but Darin said, “It’s not like we’ve maxed out our home decoration budget.” Or had one at all, in fact.

One of my big pet peeves was the ratty shed on the side of the house. It was small, and it was dark, and it had a giant hole in the roof, and we’d had how much rain this winter? We have no garage. We needed a bigger shed that wasn’t a collection area for rainwater and tree branches. Next to the shed was a dog run area with a tiny little dog house and lots of fencing. We don’t have a dog, and the fence made it hard to get in and out of the area.

I called Mr. Handyman to have the shed, dog run, and fence taken down. And I called 1-800-Got-junk to haul the detritus away.

Of course, first I had to take everything out of the shed. Which I did. The bicycles, the moving boxes we still haven’t unpacked, lots of old paint cans (from the previous owner), and a saw (ditto). Since we have no garage, I put everything alongside the house — it would be fine there, because after all: the rainy season is over, right?

That rain last weekend? My bad. Who knew I’d found the exact steps of the 21st century rain dance?

The second half of the dance was completed with the party for Simon’s fourth birthday. I had rented the picnic area at the park two or three months ago, in order to get the spot right by the playground. Invitations went out during the heat wave of two weeks ago.

Then, last Friday: drizzle. I heard rain was forecast for Sunday. We were at an outdoors birthday party Friday afternoon, and the drizzle didn’t bother the kids one bit.

A little rain wouldn’t bother a bunch of four-year-olds. I plowed ahead with my plans.

The first half of the party was fine — overcast, a little drizzly now and then, but the kids seemed to be having fun.

Then, when it came time for the food, it started to rain a little harder. I had bought a lawn tent at Walgreen’s, thinking, “I won’t need this! I’ll just return it after the party!” Well, we hauled it out and set it up over the food table.

And not a moment too soon: the rain started coming down in buckets. The kids were around the picnic table, and the parents huddled around them. I hope it’s the kind of situation everyone looks back at and laughs. Either that or I’ve just ruined Simon’s chances for social advancement at his preschool.

(A poster the kids decorated was on the table. Within a minute after this shot the washable paints had totally washed away. Ah well.)

Darin and I can’t decide: is Simon confused or being very, very funny?

He insists on referring to his forehead as his “three-head.”

Of course, he may simply have noticed it cracks us up each and every time.

For those of you still waiting with bated breath for the results. I had to call the neurologist, ask him to get back to me.

He called: the EEG was perfectly normal. Nothing odd showed.

We’re supposed to see him again in 6 months for a follow-up.

We stayed up until 12 with Simon Wednesday night—Sophia was asleep as soon as we put her in her bed, but Simon fussed for quite a while. I couldn’t fall asleep until 1 or so; Darin didn’t come to bed until 3, and I don’t think he was even playing World of Warcraft. You need something done on Safari? Look for Darin ’round 2am; he’s still on the job.

I set the alarm for 5:20am…and managed to wake up before it. I haven’t the slightest idea how, but whomp: there it was. I got up and got Simon, who was definitely surprised and unpleased about being woken up. I took him downstairs. Darin got up shortly thereafter (2 hours sleep) and came down too. After a while, he went back upstairs and got another hour of sleep.

Simon had a great morning: he got to watch as much TV as he wanted. And once the sun came up, his energy level seemed to rise too. And once Sophia joined us, around 8, the two of them played very happily together. Sophia’s the only well-rested one among us.

Darin’s car is still broken. Normally I would drive him to work, but I knew the car would put Simon to sleep within seconds, so Rob very generously came down and gave Darin a ride into work.

Simon started staggering around the house around 9, so I called the hospital and left a message on the EEG department voicemail, asking if we could possibly come in earlier than our 12:30 appointment. I called again around 10:30, got someone on the line, and she told me to come in around noon. I watched Simon, who was alternately crying and running like crazy, and lying on the ground with big, staring eyes, and thought: there is no way I am going to keep this kid awake until noon.

Which I didn’t: at 11am he fell asleep, and no amount of persuasion short of slapping his face (which, I’ll have you know, I did not do) was going to wake him up.

AT 11:10 the phone rings. It’s the EEG technician, who said she’d tried to call me on our other number (Me: “Uh, we only have this number”), because it was okay if we came in at 10:30.

“He’s already fallen asleep.”

“Can you wake him up? Do you have anyone to keep him awake in the car?”

Neat. Uh, that’s a no, good buddy.

So I bundled the kids into the car and dashed to the hospital. Simon was pretty much asleep the whole time. We had to register, and then the nurse showed us to the EEG Department. I laid Simon on the bed and asked the technician what was going to happen.

“Can we go now?” Sophia demanded. We had passed the gift shop on the way in to the hospital, and she had some important toys to check out.

“We’ll be back soon,” I said to the technician.

“But…usually the parents stay,” said the technician, clearly wondering what my problem was. Yes, Mommy stupidly scheduled the EEG on the day when she’d have both kids, so Mommy is going to go check out the gift shop instead of staying with Simon.

We went to the gift shop (I bought Simon a little notebook, since he is notebook obsessed these days—walks around with a notebook and pen, scribbling, constantly—and I bought Sophia a package of M&Ms, which she thought was a good deal) and then we sat on the hallway outside the EEG room, eating M&Ms and reading the Sleeping Beauty story in the book of fairy tales we brought with.

At one point the technician came out and said, “He’s awake.” I stood in the doorway and looked at my boy, who had all of those crazy electrodes stuck to his head, just like you see in the movies. His head was lolled to the side and he was staring his big eyed stare at me. I smiled at him and said to her, “He’ll be asleep again in a minute.” Which he was.

When it was all over, Sophia and I went into the room and I asked what the EEG had seen. “I can’t tell you anything,” said the technician, which made me immediately think she was hiding something (which just goes to show I’m confusing technicians and official spokespersons). The pediatric neurologist has to get the readout and he’ll get back to me about what it actually says.

“Because he woke up, we may need to do this again,” she told me.

Oh, neat.

I started pulling the electrodes off of Simon’s scalp—they’re connected by this really icky goo that evidently hardens when it dries; the technician tried to wipe as much off of it as she could, but Simon had a punk hairdo the rest of the day. The whole time I was doing this he was fast asleep. He didn’t wake up until I picked him up and said, “Simon! Simon!” a few times. Evidently Simon inherited Darin’s sleeping abilities. (Well, except when Darin goes to bed at night he is instantly asleep, whereas Simon is getting into the habit of dragging out the bedtime for 30 minutes or more every single night.)

By the time we got home from the hospital I was a complete zombie (though not in the flesh-eating zombie down-at-the-pub kind of way) and let the kids run riot over me. Sophia (the only rested one) dictated what we did for the rest of the afternoon.

And then I had to drive back to Apple to get Darin. Whom I would have asked to drive, except he was in worse shape than me. We had stopped at Cicero’s Pizza for dinner, which was very tasty, and then we got home and everyone was asleep by 8:15.

§

So, the short of it is:

I have no further information about what anomalies, if any, are present in Simon’s brain.

I am assuming I’ll hear next week, either about what the EEG said or whether we need to do it again.

Well, I’ll know for next time: schedule it on a day when Sophia will be in school and schedule it for earlier in the morning.

We’re getting into some extremely unpleasant nighttime rituals around here—screaming, crying, no one going to sleep until at least 10, sleeping all day as a result, lather, rinse, repeat…

But last night, I went to fulfill my part of the ritual with Simon and something possibly amazing happened. Simon, who used to go to sleep fairly easily, has started yelling his little head off. After a while I go in and voila! I need to change his diaper. Then I comfort him a little before putting him back in bed, whereupon he falls asleep quickly.

Last night, after changing his diaper, I sat down with him in the rocking chair. He lay his head on my shoulder and held me around my neck as we rocked silently.

Then I am absolutely sure I heard him say, “Ah love oo.”

My mind started racing a mile a minute. Did my baby just tell me he loves me? Is that possible for a little one to say? Could I have misheard it?

Whereupon he said, “Ah love oo ver muh.”

Darin was, shall we say, somewhat skeptical when I reported this to him. It is a complex thought for a 16-month-old to have, let alone express. He could be parrotting a phrase he hears quite often, but it’s not like he said, “Put that down, Simon.” And he’s not talking all that much, so a complex sentence is somewhat astounding, not to mention a complex sentence in an appropriate situation is doubly so.

Still: Ah love oo ver muh. What a beautiful thing for him to say. I got chills.

Currently Simon’s favorite computer game is Pooh Toddler (I think this is the right one, except Amazon says it’s just for Windows and we’re definitely using it on a Mac). One of the games is “Pop the Balloons,” in which various Pooh characters get lofted on to the screen and the player pops their balloons. The player can type on the keyboard or move the cursor over the balloon and a few seconds later the balloon pops.

Simon has figured out how to use the mouse to move the cursor over the balloon…and then click to pop it.

I guess when you see everyone else in your family doing something every day (a lot), you begin to think it’s perfectly normal. Why shouldn’t a 16-month-old know how to operate a mouse?

Darin and I were pretty impressed, that’s all I’m saying.

§

Simon has also decided it’s time for him to sit at the table with the rest of us. He’s not down with the whole high chair thing any longer.

My first clue that Simon was thinking along those lines was when I cut up a peach and put the pieces in a bowl for him, then put the bowl on one of the kitchen chairs so he could snack from it as he raced around the kitchen. I turned to my computer, which (as per usual, because we haven’t cleaned out my %$#(*$@# office yet) was sitting on the kitchen island, then I turned back to the kitchen table. Simon had moved the bowl to the table and was sitting in the chair enjoying the peach.

Now when it’s dinnertime he races to sit in the chair alongside Sophia. If I put him in the high chair (because we don’t have a booster seat for him), he struggles and cries and gets himself out of the chair. Darin reported that he put Simon in the high chair one day for lunch and then wandered off to check something on his computer. A minute or two later, Simon came racing in to join him.

I like to think that we’re self-actualizing the children.

§

His vocabulary is also growing by leaps and bounds. I pulled out the jar of Nutella the other morning and Simon ran to the kitchen table yelling, “Chocolate toast!” (Unfortunately, Darin, who was in the other room, didn’t hear him say it, so I can’t be 100% sure that’s what Simon said. But it sure as heck sounded like it.)

§

Simon is also ready to start school. Preschool, at any rate. Every day when we drop Sophia off at preschool Simon says hi to the teachers and then busies himself in the play kitchen or plops down on the beanbag in the library area to page through a book. Every day I have to pick him up, screaming and flailing, and leave.

I wonder how interested he’ll be when he has his own class and Sophia isn’t there. Probably pretty interested.

• Mama (usually pronounced “Mamamama”)
• Dada
• Uh-oh (usually accompanied by a mischievous grin)
• Ba’pa’ (what Dora the Explorer carries around)
• A-boom! (his current favorite)
• Book (sounds like “buk”)

And then there are the non-repeaters, the phrases that make me wonder. He wanted me to hand him a book to look at, and when I did he said something that sounded a great deal like “Tenk oo.” I can’t imagine he really did, but…wouldn’t that be amazing?

And he understands everything. We were playing in the living room one day and I said, “Oh, you must be hungry.” Damned if he didn’t take off for the kitchen like a shot. And tonight I told him to go over to Daddy to get dressed for bed…and Simon immediately went to report for pajama duty.

The most amazing incident was when we were at the Barnes and Noble that has a train table, and Simon started running around with a train in each hand. Then he dropped one on the floor and left it there. Without looking at the train and without pointing to it, I said, “Simon, pick up the train and put it back on the table where it belongs.”

Which he proceeded to do immediately.

Wow.

Must. Watch. What. I. Say.

Of course, I already know I have to watch what I say (and I know I’m not watching half as hard as I need to be). One day in the backyard Sophia said, “I have to go to work!” So she narrated what she was doing as she did it: “I put on my badge…and I get into my car…and I say, ‘Dommit.’”

Uh, oops.

I would think that imitating me would cause the first thing out of her mouth to be “Mor-on”…but I may simply not be aware of how often I say other things.