Mea Culpa!

So, it's been a while since I've blogged.  

In my defense, it's been a busy week.  

It's summer, and with the sweltering heat and the high electricity bills comes my annual desire to pack up the car and travel. 

For better or worse, we decided to take a 'spur-of-the-moment' trip to Philadelphia for the July 4th weekend.   I don't know why we thought that it would make sense to leave the influx of NYC tourists for the influx of patriotic Americans making the trek to see the Birthplace of Independence, but off we went.  

I say 'pack up the car' and not 'hop on a plane' because I am not, nor will I ever be .... a flyer.  I blame a combination of factors, not the least of which is my neurosis about air-travel mortality rates, my inability to pack for even a weekend trip using less than two suitcases, and my hope that if we're driving, I have a chance of convincing my husband to pull off when we pass an outlet mall. 

Traveling does a lot of great things for me - I even get my house clean and my laundry done before we go (a miracle in itself).  I get my hair cut, my toes painted ,,,, I have a great, wide-brimmed, floppy hat that I bought in Soho that makes me feel a little 'urban sophisticate' with my great big designer knock-off sunglasses.  By the time we leave the house, I am so ready to vacation in style.

The problem is, I occasionally have a tendency to get ever-so-slightly irritated in situations that at all involve interacting with other human beings. 


So, if you plop me in a fantastic city center, in the middle of a heat-wave in my 'trying to look like a sophisticated tourist' outfit that almost inevitably means a black dress in 100 degree weather, stilettos, blow-dryed hair and perfect make-up - things can go wrong very quickly.  Especially if I'm discovering that my make-up/hair/shoes/outfit are having trouble standing up to the rigors of a day of summer sight-seeing. Being anywhere near me at this point is dangerous.  Stepping on my foot because you're looking at your map instead of the sidewalk is suicide. 

My problem with doing the 'tourist thing', is the fact that there are other people doing it at the same time.  Often, they are wearing t-shirts that are either offensive or display the US flag, and it is very difficult for them to walk, talk and sight-see at the same time. 


So hours into our first day in Philly, Maria is tired, my face is melting and my hair is frizzing, and I've just about reached my quota of 'tourist dodging' for the day.*


*Tourist dodging is when the parties that are actually aware of their surroundings have to stop short, change direction, or circumnavigate large groups of people that simply choose to stop in the middle of city streets, hotel lobbies, restaurants, lines for attractions, etc., without any acknowledgment to the disruption in pedestrian traffic they've caused.


In the end, we all head back to the hotel, crash, wake-up at 9 PM, and head out for supper. 


One thing I've begun to take for granted in NYC is the fact that at any time of the day or night, you can walk for 5 minutes in any direction, and find a fantastic restaurant.   I don't know about you, but one of the most annoying things in the world is to be hungry, looking actively for food, and finding .... nothing. 


By the afternoon of day 2, I'd finally convinced my husband to visit the most stunning architectural achievement in downtown Philly - the Macy's. 


And finally, the vacation begins!!!!


From the moment she woke up on the fourth, Maria began asking us to take her to the fireworks.  The fact that fireworks cannot happen until night was lost on her.   One of the most miraculous and trying things about a pre-schooler is their unwavering ability to grasp onto a whim, and hold on with the tenacity of a bulldog.  Ten hours and 5000 'can we go see the fireworks' later, it's time.


If you can picture the size and scope of the fireworks spectacle on the Fourth of July in Philadelphia, you are probably beginning to understand that it is a potentially volatile situation for me.  


In the end, we made it in and out of the fireworks without my being arrested, Maria saw her fireworks, and the entire event was beautiful, and pretty darn cool.  Philadelphia is a beautiful, classic city, and it was a great choice for us to visit.  


Maria had a lot of firsts - she got to tour a tall ship, she saw an amazing fireworks display, and learned about a new city.


She also watched a show on the Discovery Channel that involved the death of a mommy squid.   Whoo boy!  We're still dealing with the ripple effect of that one.  She wasn't satisfied with the 'she just went away' answer that we threw out at first, so it turned into a real discussion!   It's amazing how many deep questions a kid her age can come up with about death.  Amazing, and scary, and stressful.  Here's hoping we haven't screwed her up permanently. 


All in all, we had a fantastic time.  For now, my wanderlust has been sated.  It is always good to come home, and start planning for the next trip!  (We booked Disney this week.  It's become an annual family trip with my parents and brother, and we basically look forward to it all year! I'm getting excited just thinking about it.)


To quote St. Augustine: 'The World is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page.'.  


Now that I can get behind!  (As long as I can bring all my shoes .....)

Happy Canada Day!!!!

To all my Canadian Friends and Family,

Happy Canada Day!!!!!!

I hope you all have a safe, wonderful holiday.

I'll be thinking of you from here in NYC! 

Have an awesome day and enjoy the fireworks and festivities.

Love,
Manhattan Mommy

I am Canadian Anthem

Water, water everywhere ....

... Nor any drop to drink.

Can you tell what's on my mind today?

You guessed it!  Samuel Taylor Coleridge.*

No, I'm kidding (mostly).  Today has been a water day for me.  A day dedicated to water. 

In summation - perhaps I've had a little too much time on my hands.  I did manage to set up the kiddie pool today.  I didn't have a pump so I had to inflate it with my highly developed 'singer lungs'.   Read: I nearly passed out, but my kid has a wading pool, darn it!  That's really all that matters.

Anyway, back to my point.  Water.

I've made a decision today to start drinking more of it.  Oh sure, I drink plenty of coffee, and one would imagine that I would be able to glean all my H2O resources from that, but the 'experts' seem to think caffeinated beverages are counterproductive to keeping oneself hydrated.

Whatever.

I decided to look up how much water I should be drinking today, and the answer - I discovered - is about a bazillion time more than I currently drink.   Something in the ballpark of 1.9 liters.

That's a lot of water.

So, I started today with my trusty liter bottle in hand, and before long, I'd guzzled it down.  I guess I was thirsty.

I'm quite proud of myself.  Unfortunately my body is *ahem* adjusting to this sudden increase in hydration.  I've about doubled my daily visits to the lavatory. 

The surprising perk of that is after spending so much time there today, I've decided to spruce up our bathroom - new towels are in order, I think.  Normally I'd hop in the car and head to Target, but perhaps it's time for a trip to Bed, Bath and Beyond instead.  (If you have no idea what I'm talking about, check out my post from yesterday ....)

At any rate, I can confidently say that I am definitely more hydrated than I was yesterday.

So today, I issue a challenge.  Do YOU drink enough water?  If you don't, why not join me as I fill and refill my dorky little water bottle.  (I need it, because I can't remember to keep track of how many glasses of water I've had, otherwise.) 

Mostly, if I get enough people reminding me to do it, I won't slip back into the same 'coffee in place of water' habit that has been my trademark since high school.   Another neat little tidbit I've discovered, is that drinking more water actually INCREASES your metabolism.  As a lady with a trip to Disney World in the foreseeable future, count me in!

The Manhattan Mommy Water Experiment has officially begun. 

I'm going to make a concerted effort to drink my 1.9 L every day for a month, and I'm going to see if it makes a real difference in my day-to-day life.  (Maybe I'll suddenly become chipper!)   I'll keep you posted, and I'd love to hear from anyone out there that would like to join my little experiment.

Cheers!

* For those who care:  Mr. Coleridge is the man responsible for the aforementioned famous saying that's been quoted for centuries.  (Water, water everywhere/Nor any drop to drink).  The line comes from the poem, The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner, and is actually quite a sinister, creepy piece of writing, complete with zombie sailors and a dead albatross.   Just in case you're interested .....

Postcard from the Edge

Today, I paid a visit to my friendly, neighborhood Target.  *grits teeth*

I've never been closer to a Target than I am now, and I am a Target fan.  Big time.  In less than 10 minutes, I can be parked in the garage of a brand new, state of the art shopping plaza in the Bronx, full of big-box stores that make me smile.  (Shopping is my sport.  Pretty much my only sport.)

Today, the stars aligned as I pulled into my fabulous parking spot.  I'd had a productive morning, my house was already clean (guest inspired cleaning-frenzy this weekend) and my darling daughter, who only ever wants to visit the toy section, had fallen asleep in her seat.  

Why was this so amazing?  Because I can't remember the last time I've had a beautiful, unclaimed afternoon roll out the red carpet of commercialism and invite me to peruse a store in blissful, shopping euphoria.  I'm either in a hurry, have a gigantic list, or I have the product of Disney Princess propaganda chanting, 'I want a video, Mommy.  A video. A princess video.  Mommy?  MOMMY? MOMMY!!!! A VIDEO!!!!!!'.  This was a good day.

Unfortunately for me, I'd forgotten one important fact.

For whatever reason, everyone in the entire New York City area who has the potential to make me want to hit things (or them) with a baseball bat shops at this Target.

I have reason to believe these incredibly annoying people may even live there.   I say that because, is there any other reason that seemingly normal adults would sit down in the bedding aisle with their Starbucks coffee and simply settle in for a good gossip session with their friend (who is also sitting in the aisle, coffee in hand)?

Of course, if they LIVE at the Target, then that's like entertaining in the living room.  At any rate, when two (or more) people are already sitting in the aisle, carts don't fit so well.  The only thing that could be worse is when they interrupt their intense conversation to look at you - struggling to navigate their splayed legs - like you have no business being there.   I guess if someone decided to show up in my living room with a shopping cart, I would look at them funny, too. 

Unfortunately, the 'lived in' feel of this Target does not end in the 'aisle as living room'.  We also have 'aisle as park'.   I don't know about you, but there is something beautiful about a dad taking some time to teach his young son how to play baseball.  Somehow, I don't find it quite so sweet when I'm forced to dodge said baseball in my attempt to pick out laundry soap.  Yes, I've actually been hit with a ball while shopping at this Target.  I've also had to walk around people that set up folding lawn chairs in the clothing department.   Still, like the good Canadian girl that I am, I persevere. 

Today, I snapped.

I don't know if it was the lady who pushed passed me to take the fitting room that I'd been so patiently waiting for, or the cashier that carried on an entire conversation with another 'happy, helpful' Target employee while I waited for her to acknowledge my existence.  (In her defense, I may have somehow become invisible for a moment.) 

Today, I used my stroller as a weapon in the 'War on Ignorance'.  The too-cool for humanity college kid dressed like an Easter egg in head to toe Polo had no idea what he was in for when he tangled with me.  Sure, not my proudest moment, but it felt good.  So good:  

It was the second time in approximately 30 seconds that he made me see red.  (It was an elevator altercation.)  I almost couldn't get on the elevator in the first place, because he thought it was funny to plant himself in the middle of the elevator and watch me struggle to navigate the stroller around him.  The doors almost closed on me (tee hee), and I'd run into the wall of the elevator twice (snicker), and he looked on in amusement.   Seconds later when the doors opened onto my floor and I couldn't get around him AGAIN, things changed.

The elevator had other people on it.  People that had all moved to help me get by.  Mr. Winning-Personality wasn't alone, and he and his friend, Mr. Stupid-Shirt found me hilarious.

"Ahem.  Excuse me.", said the polite Canadian (me).  "Excuse me!" (A little louder).

Now, I know he heard me, because at that point he looked at his friend, rolled his eyes, and laughed conspiratorially.

I could see the doors closing, and while everyone else on the elevator was willing to move for me, they weren't going to extend any more effort than was absolutely necessary.  For all I know, they were all on their way to a Sweet 16 party in the electronics department. 

There was simply no way around him that I could see.  So I went through him.

Less than 10 seconds later, when my haze of indignation had subsided, I was (happily) out of the elevator, and my new friends were cowering in the corner.   Apparently stroller wheels to the ankles are enough to make even the personification of coolness get moving.

So, what's the moral to this story?  I have to find a new Target now - I don't think I can handle visiting this one again, regardless of how convenient it is.  That means I could pop up anywhere.

So remember, if ever you find yourself holding a PTA meeting in the Lawn and Garden section of your local Target, and you see a woman coming down the aisle pushing a cart with a kid wearing a tiara, you'd probably be best off to simply consider your meeting 'adjourned'.

Left to her own devices ....

If you want to get something done, don't ask a pre-schooler to do it.

Duh.

If that isn't a saying by now, it should be.

And yet even as I write this, we've come triumphantly to a *very* small victory with my daughter this week.  She cleaned her room.  (With almost constant direction and cheer-leading from Mommy and Daddy.)

Slowly, agonizingly and with constant distraction, she has been working away at learning to put everything in the proper place, and in doing so she's learned the value in putting things away after she uses them instead of having 15 or 20 different toys spread all over her room.

And now, her room will never be messy again, she's just polished our hardwoods, and she'll remember to thank her Mommy and Daddy during her acceptance speech at the Academy Awards for teaching her that 'Cleanliness is next to Godliness'.

And I've just won the lottery.

But, seriously ... I think this is a step in the right direction.

Over the last few weeks I've noticed a change in her, and it is presenting all kinds of new challenges.  Sure, children are changing all the time, but I think we're going through one of the big, monumental shifts in the way she thinks, reasons and behaves.  It's a new life stage.  This happens when children move from adolescence to the teen years, or from teen to young adult.

I've made it through the shift from baby to toddler, and now I'm already saying 'goodbye' to being the mom of a toddler.  Instead I am spending my days with a full-fledged, tantrum-throwing, joke-telling, tiara-wearing little girl. 

She's now a child who wants to assert her independence, who likes to play pretend, who is developing 'selective hearing' at an alarming rate, and who likes things on her terms, and at her speed.  It's fascinating to watch.

Her desire for control is going to mean that I need to start learning to give up some of my own.  Easier said than done.  I may or may not be a bit of a 'control freak'.

Cleaning her room has been a week-long task, and I could have had it done in an hour.  The amazing thing about her having accomplished this huge task (with much help and guidance), is that her room is still clean.  I can guarantee that if I'd cleaned it myself, it would already be messy again.

Don't get me wrong, I don't expect her room to never be messy again, but I DO know that she's felt a sense of accomplishment and pride in completing this job herself.  (More or less.)

My pride as a mommy used to come from taking excellent care of my daughter - always having her dressed nicely, having her room clean and her toys away, and making sure that her every need was met.  I've realized that my sense of 'mommy accomplishment' is going to come from a new place now.  My pride is now directly related to her triumphs of independence, and to her growing into her abilities and strengths, and discovering herself. 

We'll both need to feel out this new stage.  She needs to know that I'm there to support her when she really does need my help, and I need to come to terms with the fact that it is OK for it to take a week to clean a room, or 20 minutes to get dressed, or FOREVER to get a dress on a Barbie Doll. 

What an amazing gift it is, to have the chance to spend this time with her, and see her develop into a young lady.  Her personality is changing and growing before my eyes, and I can hardly wait for tomorrow.

And here's hoping that tomorrow will mark the beginning of her lifelong fascination with dusting .....

'Mommy, can we live at Disney World???'

A question that used to be merely a childish dream is now a reality.  A luxurious, expensive reality!!!

I am a Disney nut.  It's the one really chipper thing that I'll allow myself to indulge in, without hesitation.

My daughter is a Disney junkie as well ..... this summer will mark her fourth trip to Walt Disney World, and she is 3.5 years old.  (I would encourage you to not spend too much time doing the math ... Yes, she might be a bit of a real-life princess.)

So just when I thought Disney couldn't offer any other products to occupy my time and head-space, they come up with this:

Introducing the Disney Golden Oak luxury residential resort.  *Sigh*  For $1.5 million and up, you can live AT WDW permanently!!!

Now, I'm realistic enough to accept that I will most likely not be purchasing property in WDW anytime soon.  However, if any of you feel like plopping down the cash for a little piece of paradise in the Happiest Place on Earth, let me know, and I will be on your doorstep in a 'Fairy Godmother Minute' with my pillow, sleeping bag and mouse ears in hand.

If that isn't incentive, I don't know what is!!!!