Saturday, March 31, 2018

Five Years

These pictures were taken 5 years ago yesterday.



We had walked from the Nuthaus to Nau's Enfield Drug store for breakfast, but got there too late and had to have lunch. A few things about this day: 1) It was HOT, and we're all sweaty. 2) Mei Li's feet were bleeding because she hadn't realized we would be walking all over creation and had only brought flats (and we still had to walk home... uphill). 3) D was there but I didn't include that picture, since D doesn't like public photos at this stage. 4) My back was in constant searing agony. Bonus for 5) James and I look pretty young, and he looks well-rested (I wasn't sleeping more than a couple of hours at a time because of my back).

It's only in hindsight that I know what happened to my back, but here it is: The weekend I moved into the RV park in Austin, I slipped and fell in the laundry room because water had accumulated in a clogged grate in the middle of the floor. I went down in the splits and my left knee swelled to ridiculous proportions almost immediately, though I didn't remember hitting my knee. That was in mid-August 2012.

It wasn't until December 2012 that my back started hurting. Once again, Khrys and Mei Li were visiting, but this time with Patsy and Kitana. Every time we got into a car, I writhed in a shock of pain. It got worse and worse until I couldn't sleep more than 3 hours at a time because I had to get up and stand up. I couldn't sit normally, either. I stood and I found one of those 1980s ergonomic kneeling chairs. I had sciatica that was excruciating, and lower back pain.

The night these pictures were taken, March 30, 2013, I actually told James he didn't have to marry me if he didn't want to, because I was a different person than he had started dating. I was sleep-deprived. Everything else in my life suffered because of this. I was moody and exhausted and couldn't go on road trips. I felt like my whole life revolved around avoiding pain, which I couldn't, so I felt like a failure. My sweet kid would often ask, when I cried out, if I was okay. At some point, I said, "I'm not. Please don't ask me anymore. Neither of us can do anything about it."

Several months later, I would find that I had a ruptured disc, and after pursuing many treatments (chiropractic, acupuncture, massage), time, gabapentin, and a failed pregnancy healed me completely. I only took gabapentin at night for about 3 weeks, but that allowed me to sleep through most of the night for the first time in months. That, I believe, gave my body the energy to start healing. Then the spike of pregnancy hormones, I fully believe, finished the job. Also, I'm well aware that the gabapentin might have contributed to that pregnancy loss, but we were not expecting to get pregnant so early, not even sure that was a possibility.

By the time we went to Haiti in June 2013, I wasn't too uncomfortable on the plane or in the shuttle van. By the end of summer, I was pain-free. The whole cycle took a year.

I mention all of this in conjunction with our anniversary, because I had an epiphany this week...

The RV park where I lived ended up reimbursing me for my medical costs due to the injury. That was the only concussive thing that had happened to me. It was the cause. But I exacerbated the situation by not listening to my pain, and by "pushing through" to work out.

I remember vividly lying in the floor of the trailer, trying not to half-ass workout components I had done easily for years. Tears would stream from my face as I pulled and stretched, fighting against my body, which was telling me, "STOP IT! This isn't the 'good' kind of pain! You're hurting yourself!"

But I couldn't stop.

Why?

Because I was afraid of what would happen if I stopped.

I was afraid that if I didn't work out, the nightmare would come true.

I would get fat.

And the lesson I'd learned all of my life was that gaining weight was the absolute worst thing that could possibly happen to a person.

When I was in junior high, a friend's mom told her daughter and me that we needed to watch what we ate, because her husband once told her that "boys don't want to hold on to no chalk."

How I wish the 14-year-old me had had the confidence and swearing ability to tell her, "Then eff those guys."

Because, seriously, EFF THOSE GUYS.

(Side note: same message for the ladies who won't date someone shorter than they are. Idiots.)

I overheard a guy saying he couldn't date me because I was "too much woman" for him.

I felt like I was a pretty cool chick, but never had a boyfriend, while all of my friends around me did. I was desperate for someone to love me. I dated gay guys, not knowing even if I kind of "knew" because they were the only ones who didn't seem put off by my large physical presence... which, at the risk of being offensive, is really part and parcel to being a "beard."

Then I got married. Twice. When people enter into a marriage, they promise to love each other through all sorts of situations. However, it became clear to me that "fat" was not one of those circumstances.

Both of my husbands had issues with my weight. Neither of them said anything initially, but they both began to treat me with disdain. I could feel the resentment boiling beneath the surface, and confronted them about what was going on. Denial. Confrontation. Denial. Confrontation.

Finally, they both cracked and told me. I was overweight. It was difficult to be attracted to me. I looked pregnant. "Why didn't you say anything earlier? "I was afraid you wouldn't marry me."

I tell these stories together, because they were strikingly similar. They played out almost the exact same way.

In one situation, the guy had a breakdown later in the day of our conversation, confessing that he was afraid I would leave him. I wish I'd had enough gumption to tell him that was it. Or at least to inform him that he didn't have the right to have a crisis of confidence in which I had to reassure him. It was my turn to spiral out of control, and he needed to man up and take responsibility for the pain he'd caused. Instead, we stayed married more than 4 years after that. I developed an eating/exercise disorder, lost a ton of weight, and was pretty dang hot for a few years.

I garnered a lot of attention with my newly-slim body, and after a while, was over being ignored and left alone by the workaholic husband. We got divorced, and a couple of years later, I married my second husband.

After OUR conversation about my weight, he is the one who said he wanted a divorce. I fought against it, as we had a 1-year-old child. I lost weight in a more "healthy" way (meaning I ate more than jellybeans and candy corn and fat free bread with fat free butter substitute and jelly), and kept it off for a long time. We stayed married 9 years after the "you need to lose weight" conversation. Sometimes, he seemed pleased with me, but mostly he seemed to dislike me a great deal. And I always knew I was only a stone or two from losing his affection entirely.

Even my failed attempts at dating after my second divorce reinforced this idea that my natural body was not okay. One guy I tried to date referred to my "weight fluctuations" and how he weathered those, still finding me attractive... when I didn't realized my weight was fluctuating. I had long jettisoned a scale, knowing my relationship with it was not healthy. And I was post-divorce, trying to keep my head above water, so was focused on other things. Apparently he was not.

And a second person I met online told me after our first meeting that he couldn't date me because he wasn't physically attracted to me. I can only assume that this was because I am heavy, since I'm pretty symmetrical and have (or had, when I had the time to "do" it) great hair, and my eyes are amazing, and all of that.

Incidentally, this guy changed his tune after a while, when he got to know me better and realized that my high school self was on to something: I'm a pretty cool chick.

Why all of this, and what does it have to do with my anniversary?

I haven't wanted to have to worry about my weight. Ever. When I worked in an all-woman office in my mid- to late-20s, I saw ladies in their 50s and 60s obsessing over the latest diet, what they could and couldn't eat, how grossed out they were by their appearance. I'd seen the same thing in my first post-college job at a newspaper, but that was young women my age.. I was incredulous that women were wasting decades of their lives focusing on depriving themselves and being negative about themselves. I didn't want to be on that track.

It's taken a long time, but now, at 45, I'm finally 5 years into a life that is giving me the gift of loving myself because I'm married to a man who loves me unconditionally. He loved me when we first got together. He loved me when I was a mess because of chronic, unmitigated pain. he loved me when I had baby brain. He loves me when I'm over-tired and grumpy. He loves me when I'm dressed up or when I'm still in the pajamas I wore to bed two days ago. He just loves me. And knowing that I don't have to be anything I am not to retain his affection has made a revolutionary difference in how I live.

This is definitely a process. I'm only about 18 months out from the time I saw a picture James snapped of me on his cell phone and declared, "If that's how I really look, I should just kill myself now." I'll never forget the shock that flashed across his face. That was the last time I tried to drop weight, and I did so by eating only 1200 calories for two full months and seeing zero difference. I was hungry, obsessed with food thoughts, packing the early part of my day with food and then not being able to eat after about 3 PM, and constantly thinking about food. I knew it wasn't healthy, in addition to not working. I've probably messed up my metabolism horrifically by all of the times I've lost 25-50 pounds (which is probably 3.5 times, and I've kept weight off for five and then almost ten years, but it's always come back).

So I stopped. And I decided I was going to try to love myself and focus on other things. It's amazing how difficult it is to accept myself. I have a photographer friend who has captured a few candid moments between Mal and me over the past couple of years. One was of us giggling and having a good time at the apartment pool. My first reaction to seeing the picture was to pick apart "problem" areas on my body, but I forced myself to ignore that and focus on the joy. And I put the picture away to enjoy when Mal is 10 or 11 or 12, and I know it will just be more precious to me then. Same thing with a picture of my holding his hand, walking him down to the lake. I wanted to think, "That shirt is NOT flattering... I look so short and stocky!.. The rolls!" but again forced myself to see the relationship instead of being vain and making it about my physical appearance.

Because that's the crux of it. My weight loss has never been about health. Most people's isn't. It has been about vanity. About looking good. About earning the male eye of approval.

My husband's eye of admiration regardless of what is going on at the moment has been the catalyst to the greatest strides I've made on my journey to freedom in this area of my life. And I am grateful.

Wednesday, March 28, 2018

How Do You Do?

Today, I met a lovely woman for the first time. Our kids are about the same age (we are not!), and this family just decided to homeschool, so we ended up rained out at Chick-fil-A for our introductory play date. The kids got along really well and had fun; Mal had been so sad/borderline scared about being at a different Chick-fil-A than "ours," but the little girl and he ended up playing and he forgot all about it. The woman seemed really nice, too.

But you know one of the early things she said to me? We were discussing giving birth or something, when she said, "I used to be super skinny until I had her. Then it just creeped up on me over time. Actually, I recently lost about 20 pounds, but I'm kind of taking a break now. I need to get back on top of it before it gets out of control and I gain it all back."

As it happened, I just sat there and ate my food, largely not responding in any way to what she'd said. I wish I'd been brave enough just to ask one little question: "Why?"

Why is one of the initial things a woman shares to choose with another woman was that she wants to change her body? Why is being heavier than you used to be tantamount to being "out of control"? And if it IS, why is being out of control (i.e. eating what you want and moving how and when you want) worse than expending limited time and emotional energy on maintaining a certain type of body?

Our culture is one rife with fatphobia, and we internalize it so much that we are horrified by our bodies' natural shapes and shifts. I, for one, don't have the desire to spend much mental real estate on that kind of stuff, and I wish every woman I know could be free.

Jessamyn Stanley, one of the many women showing us that health and fitness don't have a single "look."
DON'T BUY THE HYPE!

Sunday, March 25, 2018

Control Freaks and Passive-Aggression

Today is Palm Sunday, and some churches have a procession into the building with people waving "palm" branches (ours were not, but were some lighter frond-type plant) which are placed around the "altar' (table).

This morning, we went back to our church after having visited a new church last week (it was fine, but not many kids; Mal wanted to go back today, so we might try to go again sometime soon, but... I really want him to go to church where there are kids his age), and here were more kids there than usual, I'm guessing it's because we're leading up to Easter.

There was one older boy, with whom Mal enjoys playing. Then there were two little girls (and their very small sister) who come occasionally, and another little girl who might be related to those girls but whom I don't remember having seen before. She was probably 5 and was there with her grandmother.

So... we were inside the sanctuary when a lady requested we head outside for the palm event. Mal and I were among the first outside. He got a palm branch and asked for mine so he could "fly." He ran around the giant front lawn of the church, and when the other kids came out, this girl ran out to follow him. Her grandmother asked her to come back, but she didn't. The other two little girls stood with their grandparents.

Mal and this girl continued to run around, while the grandmother asked her child to come back and stand with her. I didn't intervene, because we weren't actually doing anything, and people were still coming outside, and the accompanist had not arrived yet, and we all know church doesn't start until she gets there.

One of the two little girls who wasn't running around started yelling at the other girl to come stand still, and her grandparents instructed her not to boss the other kid around.

Eventually, the grandmother said something to the extent of "resist peer pressure!" in order to get her child to come back. And a moment later, "Be a good example!"

Finally, the older boy Mal likes to play with came out and they tore around like crazy people until the service started. At that point, I called Mal over and he stood with me. The end.

I'm sure that lady (who doesn't normally go to our church, and might not understand how people welcome kids as kids instead of as miniature adults) saw Mal and this other kid running around and thought something about wild and crazy boys, but I'd have let Mal enjoy the outdoors and the space up until we were organized even if he'd been a girl.

In hindsight, I wish I'd spoken to this lady. Maybe. I can't decide whether it would have mattered.

First of all, "peer pressure" was an inappropriate label. No one was pressuring this girl to run around. Her sense of fun was stimulated by watching a free child enjoy himself. Mal didn't invite her to play with him. He didn't notice her at all. I should add that he was doing absolutely nothing wrong or inappropriate. And neither was she. I mean, I guess eventually she wasn't "minding" her grandma, but it was a pointless request, all for the sake of needlessly controlling a child's behavior. There was no good reason to stand quietly in a line seven full minutes in advance of the actual event.

Secondly, "be a good example" to whom? The other two children out at the time were standing quietly. "Obediently." So the only one who she might have felt needed a "good example" was my son. WHO WAS NOT DOING ANYTHING WRONG OR IN NEED OF CHANGE. Again, the moment it was time to stop being distracting, I called him over, and he was fine. This was extremely passive aggressive, and it's the thing I kind of regret not asking her about.

I wish I could say that I was a grown-up and blew it off, but I was frustrated. So when Mal asked to leave after the passing of the peace, I took him. I was in a bad mood. My pastor wasn't there today, as she was injured in a car accident on the way to a debate on Thursday. She's recovering, but it felt "off" with someone else leading, and so many different faces there, and someone treating my happy kid like a menace, that I was ready to get out, as well.

Rest assured that if you're judging me for my letting my kid harmlessly enjoy himself, I care not one little bit. In fact, I'm judging YOU for needlessly reigning in a child. Loosen up, be happy, and let your kids be happy, for the love of all that is good and holy.

This wild child has my heart.


Other Vacation Stuff

We're planning a (late) summer vacation, and I have to say that I learned a lot on this mini-trip. It helped me see that I need to restructure at least one day I had planned because my son gets overstimulated to the point of panic. I also need to remember to take the noise-canceling head phones I bought him; those will help block out some stuff.

It's interesting. I had kind of planned stuff based on D at Mal's age, and am reminded constantly that they are two very different children. D is a lot like Mal NOW, in terms of being overwhelmed by too much activity, and mainly noise. Actually, James is the same way. So I'm glad I've chilled out since my 20s, and can enjoy a quiet, slower-paced vacation.

Coming home today, we stopped FOUR TIMES because Mal needed to "pee in the grass." I'm glad he's telling us he needs to go. But we stopped once maybe 5 minutes after we'd stopped at a gas station. Still, better than using the car seat as a potty

Although Mal has definite opinions about how we spend our time, he seems very easy to please when traveling. He was cheerfully awake our whole drive home today, having slept maybe 15 minutes on the way over. And he woke up ready for breakfast and adventure.

His favorite thing to do at the hotel was to go to the landing on the second floor of the stairwell and play with his cars there. He also liked going next door to the CVS to look at and play with cars there.



D did great as a house-sitter. The bed frame fell apart while we were gone (pressed wood, exploded), and D didn't bother to mention that to me while we were gone, which is cool because I'd have worried about it, and couldn't do anything about it until I got home.

Back to Mal and the learning curve (this post is going to be all over the place; it's just thoughts I want to jot down to remember), Mal begged to come home the first night. This was because we scared the crap out of him on the Tilt-a-Whirl thing. Plus, he had to poop and he doesn't like any toilets but his. But he finally took care of Number Two the next day, and ended up really liking the hotel.

This morning (I started this Saturday night, and how it's Sunday morning), Mal woke up asking to go back to the hotel. I told him we'd be going on another trip soon(ish) and staying at an even cooler place. I tried to explain some of the amenities, none of which impressed him. Finally, I said, "It has a pool, one that's even bigger than the pool at that hotel! And I'll for sure remember your swim suit this time." His eyes widened. "Even BIGGER?!" I guess that whole "swim at the hotel" thing is pretty standard across the board for kids. When D was little, we'd always pick a hotel that had a usable pool, which meant in cooler months, finding one with an indoor swimming pool.

Mal was officially 3.5 yesterday. He has not gained a single pound since his 2nd birthday. He's still holding strong at 38 pounds. He's grown at least 3.5 inches since 2, and at least 3/4 of an inch since his 3rd birthday. But no weight gain. Which my back and arms appreciate, even though I convey him significantly less frequently than in the past.


This morning, Mal was replaying the Tilt-a-Whirl, He was spinning in little circles, and then walking in bigger circles, saying, "Mommy, this is how the spinning machine does." We talked about how he might like going around and around some other time when I told him I'd bring earphones for him so it wouldn't be too loud. He said, "And also a thing on my hair, so I won't hit my head." I asked, "A helmet?" "Yes." So if you see a family getting on a ride with a kid wearing a bike helmet and earphones, that's just us doing the best we can.

I think that's it for now. Enjoy the rest of your Sunday afternoon!

Saturday, March 24, 2018

Hardware Craziness

We got back from our little mini-vacation, and my desktop was running very sluggishly.

Chrome just expands to fill all available memory when nothing else is doing anything. So I have to restart it once a week or so, just to make it play nicely with everything else.

There's an obvious solution to this, that worked great with my laptop: add more memory. I doubled it from 8 to 16 gigs a couple of years back, and it's only now starting to feel sluggish again. But it's still great for what it does.

One of the reasons that I chose my desktop motherboard when I bought it 7 years ago is that it included 8 memory slots. It recommends getting dedicated RAM coolers if you use them all, but that's a small price to pay if you actually need that much RAM.

At the time, it was pretty cutting-edge. I've had to replace the CPU fan and the power supply. Honestly, that isn't bad for something that runs as well as it does.

But now I'm at an impass with it.

It uses old-school memory sticks that can only handle 8 gigs at a time. The sticks I have in there now are slow. They clock in at 1373 MHz. The slowest equivalent I can find these days runs at 1600 MHz. The new stuff should auto-scale back to play well with my old obsolete stuff, but that's an annoying limitation to look at.

Especially since I'm looking at just about $65 for each memory module. My motherboard definitely recommends buying them in pairs. I've had lots of fun wonkiness over the years if I don't follow their recommendations precisely. As in the memory sometimes shows up and others don't.

Let's ponder that for a second.

I'm looking at $8 per gig of RAM.

Laura just bought a 32G memory card for her camera for $21.

I bought my first computer in the mid 90s and had to argue with salesmen (I know the term is sexist, but everyone involved was a male) to convince them that I really did want a Pentium instead of a 486. And then I had to work harder to find a 66 MHz version instead of the original 60. I was trying to buy a server-grade system that regular consumers would never need.

And then, a couple of years later, I spent months trying to special-order a 16 MB memory chip. At the time, $40 per meg was pretty reasonable.

And now I'm balking at $8 a gig, because 1600 MHz is too slow and I'm leery about wasting valuable memory slots in my next motherboard. Since RAM is one of the few things that will be worth recycling.

I have one 1 TB in that box now. Along with one or two others from way back when. The TB drive might be worth salvaging. Amazon recommended that I throw in a 1TB 7400 RPM drive for $40 along with my RAM purchase.

I still think of $1 per MB as pretty reasonable.

I guess this post shows my age.

Heh. It gets worse.

I remember watching Ronnie perform experiments with different kinds of acid to try to extract the gold from old computer parts.


Friday, March 23, 2018

Kemah Boardwalk, Space Center Houston, Microtel, and a spacey McDonald's



Greetings from Nassau Bay/Clear Lake City!

About a month ago, a lady posted to an unschooling group that she was wanting to visit Space Center Houston, but that tickets were $30 per adult. She said if she could get a group of 20 people together, it'd just be $10 per ticket... so we jumped on it. Now, we also decided to make a weekend of it, book-ending the discounted day with nights at a hotel, so we did spend more than $60 total, but we really needed a little family getaway! It's been about a year and a half since our last trip. Our teenager stayed home to cat- and house-sit, which also saved us some money.

First, we headed out from west of Austin at our own leisurely pace. We visited Brenham first, stopping by the Funky Art Cafe to get lunch to take to a park. I'm glad we had planned on picnicking, because that place was PACKED!


The famous pumpkin burger, vegetarian. From the menu: pumpkin, wild rice, corn, jalapeno, cilantro, & jack cheese; served on a whole wheat bun with chipotle sour cream spread, avocado, lettuce & tomato.

The Don't Knock It Until You've Tried It wrap, also veggie. A wrap "dressed with savory tahini poppy seed spread then filled with roasted sweet potato cubes, avocado, red onion, shredded jack cheese, lettuce & tomato,"
Those were both ridiculously good. If you're taking out, I highly recommend calling in your order. It took about 20 minutes for our food to be prepared. TOTALLY worth the wait, but we ended up spending $30 on a construction utensil and plate kit at the adjoining specialty store.

We ate and then played at Fireman's Park in Brenham. Lots of fun stuff to do. We happened to hit it just as a school group (three buses worth) was finishing up lunch, but we got to play on the playground alone for a bit before sharing.




You can't visit Brenham without visiting Blue Bell, so we did. They don't offer guided tours like they used to (before the listeria thing), but you can still look out from an observation window at the packing area, and you can get a very generous scoop of ice cream for $1.


We had one more obligatory stop before we reached our destination:

We checked in to our hotel which is, I guess, in Nassau Bay. The address is Houston. We're RIGHT across the street from Space Center. But I'll get to that in a bit.

After we got our bags to the room and settled in, Mal and I took a trip across the parking lot to CVS for some sundries while James heated his knees. Then we were ready to drive out to Kemah for the evening.

We went on a Thursday night, and it just wasn't too busy. There was a sign that said "free parking under the bridge; free shuttle" but we parked literally right beside the roller coaster, and we didn't pay anything.

Mal was super excited to be at the Gulf of Mexico, and beside himself while we waited in line for tickets to a few of the rides. He was less excited when we started to board the Century Wheel, but he ended up liking it a lot.


He liked the Hypnospin (aka Tilt-a-Whirl) SIGNIFICANTLY less, crying most of the time we had the most fun, i.e. spinning like crazy. Later, I think it was because he'd hit his head, but he was coping with the stimuli by tilting his head to put his hand over his ears, and that just makes the spinning worse. But there's no explaining that to a hysterical 3-year-old.

Once we got back onto the boardwalk, he was pure joy again, dancing to the "beautiful music" and chasing seagulls around.






This playground just behind Flying Dutchman is great. Super soft ground, and plenty for little kids and bigger kids. Mal burnt off steam before and after dinner.





The entire boardwalk is pretty much owned by Landry's, and the Aquarium Restaurant is part of it. The prices weren't overblown, and the food was really delicious. I got grilled shrimp tacos, and James got Cajun tilapia with shrimp, crawfish, and scallops. Mal got macaroni and cheese, and even though fries aren't listed as a side dish for kids' meals, they have "fish and chips" on the menu, so we asked for them.


There is plenty to keep a kid visually occupied while waiting for food, plus they bring you some delicious, mushy soft sourdough slices with soft butter. 

As we left the boardwalk, which was pretty much shuttered except for the rides by 8:30, we were able to give our three unused tickets (which Mal would not deign to use for one more thing, lest it was terrifying) to three tween boys in line waiting to get their own tickets. They were pretty excited.

Now I'll tell you about the Microtel. It's located literally across the street from the Space Center. In fact, here's a zoomed-in picture from our room's window.


For comparison, here's a zoomed-in picture of our hotel from the second level of the Space Shuttle tower.


We had breakfast included in our stay price, which was just at $100 per night for a mini-suite. Breakfast options included Texas-shaped or "half dollar" waffles, bagels, English muffins, toast, muffins, biscuits and gravy, scrambled eggs, juice, coffee, instant oatmeal, and cereal... but ponderously no milk to be seen. It might be that they run out of stuff and just don't restock.


We realized that this is the perfect place to stay if you're taking a little kid who might tire out to the Space Center. By midday, when Mal was done, James just walked back to see more stuff while I stayed with our child. Then James walked "home" and I spent a couple more hours at Space Center.

There is a small outdoor pool, a (very busy) Luby's and a CVS right in the same parking vicinity. There are plenty of restaurants around, both chains and local places. And I'll get to that in a moment, too. So, our impression of the Microtel Houston is a positive one.


We were able to walk over and get some pictures we wouldn't have gotten from the car. Then we met our contact and entered right as Space Center was opening. The lines look daunting at 10 AM, but people process quickly through security and disburse through the building. The same cannot be said for parking, which seemed to have a constant line until about 3:00 PM (the center closed at 5 PM the day of our visit).

Most important tip: If you want to do the tram ride, queue up for that immediately upon opening. Space Center used to do "timed tickets," where you'd reserve your ride. They have stopped that within the past month, so it's first-come/first-served. James tried to get in line at 1:20 and was told that he was too late for the last shuttle tour, which was to leave at 3:00 PM. Who wants to spend two hours of their day in line for a 90 minute tram tour?!

So get there early if you want to see "backstage."

If not, the first place you should head is Independence Plaza, which is the big Boeing airplane with the "high fidelity" Space Shuttle mock-up, Independence. We toured it at around 10:50, and when I went back alone to review a couple of exhibits, it was standing room only. I couldn't move around freely, but had to be herded with the crowd. So if you're planning to take time and really enjoy this exhibit, and I think that the interactive elements here are much better than the ones in the kids' area inside (and less beat up!), the morning definitely beats 3:00 PM.

Here are some highlights from our morning.








Midday, we just walked practically next door to a cool space-themed MdDonald's.


There's an Indian fusion place next door, between McDonald's and Space Center, where my husband got a veggie burger to go and just brought it to McD's, where our kid blew off some steam in the play area.

Walking to lunch is a great way not to have to pay $5 to reenter the parking lot, if you decide you don't want to eat whatever they're serving at the center. Also, you can't take food inside of Space Center, but they have a lot of picnic tables outside, so you can keep food in your car and eat on the cheap.

This was when Mal decided he wanted to go back to the hotel and chill. James walked back to the center and we walked "home." Then a couple of hours later, the grown-ups traded places.



Final thoughts: If you like space, you can easily spend a whole day, especially in this slower period when they're only open 10-5, at Space Center. Getting our tickets for a third of the price probably helped us feel like we were having a great time at a bargain, and actually the picture at the top of this post cost more than our entire entry did (because Mal is 3 and was free). And, yeah, I know his eyes are closed and there is hair in his face, but immediately before and after the photographer snapped this picture, my son had his finger in his nose, so this was the premium take.

I can't believe some people made this a day trip from Austin, and I'm glad we didn't have to.

Wednesday, March 21, 2018

Just a Little Detail

Today, we went to get Mal's hair trimmed for the second time in his life. I'm not going to tell you where, because I have a gripe and we LOVE this place. But here's what happened:

When we walked in, Mal looked past the toys at the front of the salon to the seats, realized what was going on, and ran out of the store. I tried to grab him, and he just dropped onto the sidewalk, yelling, "I don't want to get my hair cut! I'm scared!"

I picked him up and told him we'd just browse at the toys, to start. He went back in and eventually found three toys he wanted. I said I wasn't buying anything until I paid for the hair cut, which he still said he did not want. So I invited him back to the back of the salon to play with the train set.

He was happy to do that, and while he played, "Moana" was on the televisions in the store. He was chill and having a great time. I was so glad we'd arrived a good 10-12 minutes early. When his stylist was done with the previous child, she invited Mal to come over. Once again, he flopped down on the floor.

I said, "It's fine; you can stand up. Listen, she has a soft brush like you have at home." And she, who had cut his hair the first/last time, said, "Do you want a sucker when we're done?" That got Mal, and he hopped up and started toward the chair. Another stylist said, "She's just going to brush your hair."

In my head, I thought she meant, "We'll start with just that." I'd told Mal already he wouldn't be subjected to the razor or blow-dryer.

He sat in the fire truck chair and had a super hero cape put on. The stylist got detangler and a brush. She was very gentle, moreso than I am. Mal's hair was really long. At this point, she asked him to look down and said, "You have a pretty big tangle I need to work on." I believed her. But in a minute, I realized what she was doing.

After a few moments, when Mal could look up again, I said, "It's going to be so great; she's cutting off the thin bits at the end that get so tangled." The stylist said, "I'm not cutting it; I'm just brushing it!" That's when I finally clued in that they tell nervous kids they're not getting their hair cut; it's just getting brushed. I assured her that the brushing is what worries him, and he was fine getting his hair cut. He was actually not at all concerned the rest of the time.

So... lying to kids. I get why they do it here. Kids are scared. There's no reason to be scared. But instead of being empathetic and talking them through the process, they lie to them.

I guess whatever, but I don't want my kids being lied to. And I think another adult should take the parents' lead, testing the water if they want, but then when the parent tells the kid the truth, go with that. Don't "correct" the parent's truth-telling to make it jibe with your lie.

Last time we were there, Mal had me hold his hand the whole hair cut. This time, he was scared at first, but by the time he was in the seat, he was great. Next time, he might only be mildly nervous, then remember it's fine. That's how I choose to address fears. Not by avoiding them with untruths.

Wednesday, March 14, 2018

A Day in the Life of My Little

Usually, Mal wakes up with his computer, like some grown-ups do coffee. But today, he jumped headlong into playing, and just did not stop all day. So here are some pictures of the way his days usually go. Spoiler alert: There is lots and lots of Disney's Cars.


A lot of times, after he's played Cars, he adds in other stuff. Here, we're playing fire station Cars.


Here, he's acting out a racing scene from Cars 3.


At this point, we'd gotten dressed and were playing Cars for a minute, then would read "A Very Hungry Caterpillar," comparing the pictures in the book to our refrigerator magnets. We read it at least half a dozen times.


Then Mal brought in the "marble maze" he does with his dad's carboy and funnel.



Mal is making a "pathway" with the bulldozer, then he used the marbles as a track outline to race the... yes... Cars.


Outside break, because it's a GORGEOUS day!


He was "hiding" from me.


We moved to the back yard to play for a while.


We ended up at Veteran's Memorial Park for an hour.



Then we went to the sculpture garden.



We met James at Logan's Roadhouse for dinner, then James took Mal to Target to get some soda, and Mal talked James into buying... MORE CARS.


So when Mal got home, we had to get out the Paw Patrol track to use as a racetrack.

He did finally watch TV for about half an hour, then took James into his room to play for a while. He finished up the night by playing "Cars get stuck in the 'mud'" (play dough).


When he was finally ready to go to bed, it took about 4 minutes. But most days, it's non-stop from wake-up to falling to sleep!

Thanks for spending our day with us!