Just a normal Wednesday...except it's Friday.

What a week! I know one thing for sure: I am not cut out to be a Nanny. I (stupidly?) agreed to watch two little girls for two weeks while their childminder is on Holiday. I think it would be easier to herd cats or Honey Badgers.  It looks like a Toys-R-Us threw up in my house. Oh well, at least they had fun. Me? I wondered if taking shots of whiskey at 11 am was acceptable. I built so many forts I lost count and finally refused to build/repair another fort within the same five minute period in which I erected the first fort. I think Mongols could have learned a thing or two about destruction from this crew of three. 

The Bean and M1 (There are two girls, both with M names, so I will call them M1 an M2, respectively) had Mad Science Camp on Tuesday. We arrived late, due to the unexpected closure of the parking garage beside the facility. So we had to hike the half a mile to get to camp. This experience was much like how I imagine herding cats would actually be, only a bit more painful. Simply for the fact that cats, while having the ability to meow, do not whine or complain. I am mystified how a child can run rampant in a playground, open field or at an amusement park, but as soon as you need to get them from point A to point B they do not have the energy to propel themselves. 

The camp was in Cambridge, at a place called Park Road Leisure Center. Imagine the children's disappointment when they realized they were there to attend a science camp and not to play in the football field size pool complex we had to walk through to get to the activity room where the camp was to take place. There were no less than four pools, a massive hot tub, water slides and splash parks. This was torture. Some organizer should be punched in the throat for making this arena the location for the 'boring' science camp. If I'd had cheese to go with the 'whine', I would have been drunk and there would have been cheese for the children's snack later. (I briefly entertained letting them swim, as we have a second day of science camp tomorrow, but I would rather take a real cat herd swimming than try to keep up with three children with different swimming ability levels in that massive pool complex.) 

M1 had a great time, but the Bean - not so much. ASD strikes again! He is just not a 'group activity' kind of guy, but he comes by it honest. His Dad would much rather be poked in the eye repeatedly than to engage in any kind of group activity. So one of the camp staff had to call me to come pick him up early. I half expected as much, but the Hubs thought camp would be a great idea, and I knew that 'Zany Inventions' Day' was not the best choice to keep the Bean interested. No interest = naughty behavior. 

M2 is a fantastic shopping buddy. We strolled up to the Cambridge Market Square to see what was going on. I also had a Marks & Spencer gift certificate as a perk from one of the utility companies we signed up with when we landed. I had never been to a M&S, but it was pretty nifty. We had a good time and M2 has some kickin' fashion sense for a 3 year old. I had to giggle and the other shoppers thought I was daft for asking her opinion, but so be it - we had fun! The Market Square has tons of little shops and we stopped to buy a real fruit Icee.  It was hot and the cool refreshment was just what we needed. I am still on the hunt for something cool to send my (eek) 16 year old Niece, but always second guess myself out of fear that whatever I buy will be 'uncool'. I see lots of things I think she would like, but I hate to get something she will not wear or use.  I think one of those mustache-themed scarves would be fun, but perhaps that time has passed. There are quite a few little dresses I think might be OK, but I wonder if she would actually wear the one I picked out. M2, a chic after my own heart, really like the skull print dress, but for my Niece I am not too sure. 

Just before we left the Market Square, I saw this advert for an upcoming exhibit at the Fitzwilliam Museum:

I think we will be going to see this one. This is what I love about living here, there is so much cool stuff to go see. 6000 years of history about the Afro comb? Seriously, check out the exhibit explanation. 

Thursday's camp day promises to be better. The Bean is a sucker for Mighty Machines. I am hoping that the topic will keep him interested. If not, I guess I will get a phone call and go pick them up early (again). It still buys me a little, much needed, alone time. This time I will not be strolling along with M2, who has a doctor's appointment that morning. I am going to a new friend's house while the kids are in camp. I am always excited to get to know other people and this time is especially poignant. She is the wife of one of the Hub's coworkers, and they, too, have just recently boarded the ASD party cruise. It's nice to be able to commiserate with another mom who knows, first hand, what you're going through and we get to compare notes and strategies. Her son is a year behind the Bean, but her son's behavior is strikingly similar to the Bean's. It is strangely comforting to know another 'normal' mom who has a son with ASD. It helps relieve the guilt you feel that it was 'something that you did'. They are a nice, normal, salt of the earth, kind of people. I will visit for a while until I need to meet M2's dad after her doctor's appointment and hopefully have a lunch date with the two of them. I have a feeling we will be going to Nando's. If you have never been to a Nando's, if given a chance, GO! 

I felt the need to stay at home this past weekend.  We rearrange the house (again) and I made the boys go grocery shopping with me. I was not about to take three children to the grocery store. I would have needed therapy. I have to give kudos to the parents of multiple children. I realize that having more of your own children is probably different that watching other people's kids. I get that part. The Jane Goodall in me likes figuring out what traits of the parent are exhibited in the child. I can also appreciate the differences in parenting styles. Boys and girls sure are different. The Bean is exhausted and has really been complacent today playing with his toys and watching a Curious George marathon on DVD. The neighbor hood kids came by and they, too, got caught up in the magic of the curious monkey. (Thanks, Aunt Angie - you hit the jackpot!) 

This is the least funny, least amusing post to date. I have to admit I am exhausted. For the past week, I have fallen asleep with the Bean while putting him to bed. Yea, put me in a semi-dark room in a luge-position and I am down for the count.  

Well, today is Friday and I am not a happy camper. I haven't had a moment's peace to post this blog, much less the ability to stay awake past 9:30 pm. So far today, I have managed to place yet another call about our boiler, now my kitchen ceiling is leaking, and I half a load of whites stranded in my washing machine. (Which, by the way, take 2 hours and 42 minutes to wash in this crazy British washing machine.) I have had two of the three children complain about sand on their clothes, when on a normal day would have no problem depositing the sand all over my house, and would only survive the day with a new set of clothing. At least two out of three are fully toilet trained.

Oh well, I guess I just need to take a pause and change my frequency. I cannot control the circumstances, but I can control how I react to them. Seems so simple, yet some days it is so hard to find the right wavelength. I need to remember that any day on this side of the Daisy's is a good day. One day, in the distant future, when I need a little internal giggle, I will remember the look on Karma Kitty's face the day the children cornered her in the Solarium, closed the doors, and painted her fur.

I need a nap. Not gonna happen. Tell you about Thursday's science camp later.

Until next time...


Lisa

Bean's 5th Birthday Bash!!!

Whew, I am glad that's over. Don't get me wrong, a great time was had by all, but I am glad that is over. I didn't take an official head count, but I made 25 gift bags and I have four left. So that means that 21 of the 21 kids I had ticked on my list came. Yea, it was a party. The cake turned out fabulously. I have to give Andre his props, it was a fantastic cake. The construction equipment actually looked like it was pushing the frosting around and the snowplow had tracks left it its wake. I got oooo's and ahhhh's from the adults as well as the kids!

I wish we'd gotten a better shot, but as soon as the word 'cake' was mentioned, I was mobbed by tiny party-goers vying for the best view of the confection.

This was the Hub's view from the middle of the crowd. He was soon shoved to the back by tiny, sharp, elbows and the trampling of small pointy feet. They were in awe that we had 'real' toys on the cake. I do have some concerns about the blue dye used on the cake and cupcakes. It looked like the Smurf population had been decimated and their remains consumed.

My decorations were pretty simple. Few construction toys scattered about and some party decals hanging in festive places.
I used the roll of caution tape that was inside the 'fort building kit' my sister-in-law gave Bean as a Christmas present.  (We have build many a fort with that kit.) The killer hard hat was also in the fort kit. I managed to get a picture or two before Bean abandoned it. After all, the guests had started to arrive and shower him with affection and gifts. Oh my, did that child receive gifts!

Did I get a picture of the gift table? No! I was hopping like a one-legged man in a butt kicking contest! The monster truck ramp was a big hit, but as the sugar overload hit the kids' bloodstream it became a make-shift slide. Thankfully a mom (and professional teacher) was there to curtail the sliding before anyone did any bodily harm. The flowering plant that was under the ramps, however, did not fair as well. I hope it takes the abuse and recovers fully next spring. 

Here is the rousing game of 'limbo' which features the ramps before the carnage. 

Man, some of those kids were sticklers for rules. The older ones had a problem with some of the younger kids 'not playing right' and I had to explain that it was hard for a five year old to get the concept. I think they all had fun regardless. They were a bit miffed there was no prize for the winner. I used the old 'everyone's a winner' crap that I usually hate to spout. 

The paint center, which I originally had envisioned to keep the little girls busy, was a smash hit with everyone! 

At the height of the party I had pictures up and down every window in my solarium, on the french doors, and on the window ledge. The kids were very happy to have their art on display and many of them took their works of art home with them. 

As for the adults, the American moms came to the rescue pitching in and helping out wherever they were needed. The Brit moms, not so much. Some of them dropped their kid off at my house and left. This is a totally foreign concept for me. I guess if you are comfortable enough dropping your kid at my house when you barely know me - well that's your bag. The moms that did stay crowded in my kitchen and devoured the food table. I brought out my 'now famous' Buffalo Chicken Dip and realized, very quickly, I should have made more than one pan. I also was surprised to find out that root beer is a coveted beverage here in England. I had one mom take me aside and ask if I could get her some 2-liters and how many could I get at one time.  

We had a pretty fun-filled day. As if on cue, at the stroke of 4, they all grabbed their goody bags and hit the road. We'd run out of chicken dip and root beer so the party was done. (No one touched the pasta salad or the veggie tray - which are usually the first items for refill.) I learned that promptness is another admirable Brit trait. You may drop your child off at 2 o'clock, but you're there promptly at 4 o'clock to pick them up as well. There were no major causalities and no damage done to the house. (There was a piece of cake suspiciously left in my drain grate where the gray water exits the laundry room into the storm drain system, but...)  I am missing one blue bean bag from the bean bag toss, but hopefully I will unearth it before I have to take the game back to Outdoor Rec tomorrow. At the final frenzy of the party the bags were not tossed, but rather used as weapons of mass destruction. (Found the bean bag!! Woot!)

I did gain one glittery head-band and a cute little girls' periwinkle blue sweater. I am hoping for a phone call or maybe return the items to their rightful owners once school starts. 

Some of our American guests stayed once the brunt of the other guests had departed. The ladies were so gracious and helped me clean up the food, the kitchen, and gathered all the abandoned plates and cups. I was so grateful and could not thank them enough for all they did (without expectation!) to help me pull off the party and keep the mayhem to a dull roar. My child signaled the end of the after party by stripping off all his clothes, down to his tighty-whities, and clinging to me in a near comatose state. After two nights of backyard camping, getting up at first light, and consuming an ample amount of sugar- he was done.  

And blessed be the parents whose little firecracker slept until 9:30 the following morning. I am always a little panicked on those rare mornings when I wake up on my own and not to the sound of little feet running down the hallway. I came out of the bathroom to find him snuggled in the bed, next to the Hubs, and he greeted me with a very horse and very plaintiff, "Mommy". He sounded like he'd smoked a pack of camels and looked like he'd attended an all-weekend rave. He still had traces of indelible food ink on his face and smears of paint and dirt streaked his skin. I guess all that running and screaming took a toll on the little dude. 

Yep, only 362 more days to plan the next Bean bash. 

Good times. Until next time, here's a picture of the abandoned cake:

Lisa

Happy Birthday, Bean!!

Today's post will be short and sweet. There are no pictures because 'ain't nobody got time for that' right now. Today is officially the Bean's fifth birthday. Hurrah! Who'd of thought we'd be celebrating his fifth birthday in England? Not me, but I think we will have a good time.

I have approximately 21 (yes, twenty-one) kids that will be showing up at my house tomorrow at 2 o'clock. The voices in the back of my head are screaming in unison:  "What in the hell were you thinking?" There will probably be close to 50 party attendees at the height of the frenzy. Between school mates, neighbors and the Hub's coworkers, I am pretty sure I will lose what is left of my sanity.

I went to the Commissary on base and tried to order the fancy construction themed cake we saw in the order book a few weeks ago. I thought, since there was a deli/bakery in the Commissary, this would be a snap, even with the usual Monday closure plus the Tuesday closure due to the furlough, but I was mistaken. I cannot imagine the look on my face when the guy behind the counter told me it would take fourteen (14) days to get that specific cake. I told him, "I want a cake for a party, not to bronze! Is it made out of gold?" He replied, "seriously", and asked me what I wanted. I told him the construction cake. He leaned in, and I inwardly giggled as if we were about to engage in an illegal transaction, "We can make them here," he looked around, "but we don't have the little toys to go on top. Think you could bring some?" I was delighted. "You bet," I told him, "How about a selection and whoever decorates it can work their magic?" His response, "Perfect. Can you bring them on Friday?"  The deal was done.

My original idea to have a bouncy house fell flat (haha, flat bouncy house!). If you've been keeping up, you already know the Bean has an affection for the bouncy house. I learned, at another birthday party, that the Outdoor Rec Center (on base) will rent them for dead cheap. What I didn't take into consideration was the shoe box size of my back yard. So I hope the kids aren't showing up for a bouncy house, or I may have a riot on my hands. So I fielded some ideas from my friends of Facebook, and got some bomber ideas. I have a cubic ton of sand for construction, a water table, a monster truck ramp ( I have to finish detailing today), painting center, building blocks, a train track, Lego station, bean bag toss, horseshoes, limbo and tons of food.

Now my only worry is since all my activities are planned for the out side is that it will rain.

The Hubs and Bean celebrated early by camping outside last night in our huge tent. The two of them slept peacefully last night with a futon mattress, a couple of blankets, the Bean's 'wild amnimals' and their own internal blast furnaces to keep them warm. (I probably could have squeezed the bounce house out there, judging from the size of the tent, but then there would have not been any room for anything else.) The woke bright and early with the rising sun - which was about 4:30 this morning. I am guessing both my boys will need a nap this afternoon.

I have totally rearranged the house, twice, and all I have left to do is vacuum and clean a few surfaces. I've already moved all my breakables to other locations and put the Hub's guitars in his upstairs man cave. I have been stressing all week about this, but the Hubs has done a brilliant job of wrangling me in and occasionally holding the brown paper bag so I don't hyperventilate. I keep telling myself that people are coming for a birthday party, but let's face it - people come to see what your house looks like.

Veggies are cut. Buffalo chicken dip is made. Pasta salad is prepared.  Monster Truck Racing Track is finished.  Direction and parking sign is made. I think we're about to party!

OK maybe one picture. We caved and let him open a gift or three. After all it is is his actual birthday today. I told you they had trouble keeping their pants on!

I'll most certainly have a post-party post...wish me luck!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEAN!!! WE LOVE YOU!!!!!

Take care!!
Lisa

Keep it Classy, Greater Yarmouth

Well as furlough Friday #3 rolled around we needed a plan for how we could entertain ourselves. We had been frugal and thrifty thus far, so we decided to make this trip an over night stay. Looking on the internet on a website called laterooms.com we found a family room at the Marine Lodge for £70. This included an en-suite bathroom, a double bed, a single bed, and an amazing view of the "Gentlemen's Club" across the street.

Here is the view of the front:

The hotel webpage didn't mention this little tid-bit at all. I cannot bring myself to include a link to their website, but I will tell you that they have "Pole Fitness Classes" if you're interested. This is a 'reverse mullet' business principal that college courses neglected to cover. Party in the front and business in the back. Not sure I would want my little girl to attend the 'Fallen Angels' school of dance, but got to give the owner kudos for having a semi-reputable side operation.  Notice the bricked up windows alongside the classic architecture. This will become a reoccurring theme. I would guess at one time this building was either an Inn with a livery stable (known as a "Coach Inn") or an old fire brigade station.

We were worried that the hotel room would be loud and had visions of drunken men brawling out on the sidewalk at 2:30 in the morning. I am happy to report that no such instances happened and at 12 o'clock - the town got very quiet. So for a room adjacent to the parking lot and across the street from 'live entertainment' we were pretty happy.

We arrived Friday just after one o'clock and were very happy to be able to check into our suite.

Notice the Monster Truck line up. I am seriously going to blog about their adventures. They go everywhere with us. The room was pretty tight, but nice and clean. We don't spend a whole lot of time in the room anyway, so it was fine with us. We lathered on the sunscreen and hit the beach!

It looked relatively close from the hotel restaurant window, but that did not prepare us for the half a mile walk from the boardwalk (or "promenade" as the English call it) to the actual shoreline. This was the sandiest beach we've been to thus far. It seemed to take an eternity to cross the sand, as though we were crossing the Normandy beaches under fire on D-Day.  The tiny rocks were very painful, and the sand seemed to go on forever.  The water was very cold, as was the overall temperature, so after a short while the Bean packed his construction equipment up and declared he wanted to go back to the hotel room. He also wanted to go to the 'pavilion'.

This is our catch-all term for any amusement type of activity at the beach. About five or six blocks of the beachfront was devoted to carnival-type attractions. The only frame of reference I have to compare this beachfront extravaganza to is the 'strip' at South Carolina's Myrtle Beach. And the patrons were just as classy. (Smell that? It's sarcasm!) Lots of inappropriate clothing, ridiculous tattoos, shifty-looking carnies and jarring rides. This is my 'I'm gonna need a chiropractic adjustment after this' face (please note that this is a scarf I'm wearing and not a cervical-adjustment pillow, which would have been more appropriate):

Friday  was warm during the day, but as the sun went down the evening got chilly! I daftly thought since it was the beach  we did not need to pack any warm weather clothes. (Which is surprising, because I always have a piece of fleece or a Bean jacket in the car, but when the Hubs packs the car for a trip he brings in all the items he deems 'unnecessary'. My cache of reusable bags, the jackets, toys, hats...well you get the picture. The stuff I thought was there had been brought into the house while I was gathering supplies for the trip.)

We persevered. We walked the shoreline amusements and went into the main boardwalk of the strip. Whoever owns this place has the hook-up when it comes to those sit and ride machines you find outside of every major grocery store. Barney, Bob the builder, double-decker buses, lorries (semi-trucks) and other characters I did not recognize. This one was my favorite:

Maybe I have a soft spot for Bigfoot because when we lived in St. Louis, I worked just down the road from the home of Bigfoot- the original monster truck. I wonder if Bob Candler knows there is a Brit knock-off of his famous truck.

We wound down our Friday night by playing on the most lucrative invention known to man, besides the frozen daiquiri machine, the illustrious bouncy castle. This pavilion had not one but TWO bouncy castle play areas. For £2 you get twenty minutes in four different bouncy apparatus and the attendant wasn't concerned how long you bounced.  Let's just say they were more interested in their next 'smoke' break.  I haven't seen or smelled that many green funny clouds since my last Dave Matthews concert.  This was £2 well spent.  When it comes to bounce houses, the Bean plays hard. We did limp out with a small scuff mark on our head.

Saturday morning wasn't so spectacular. We awoke to fog and light mist. Not enough to dampen our adventures, but a day at the beach was right out.  We went directly to the next bouncy castle apparatus for more fun. On the way, however something else peaked our interest: Donkey rides.

I am learning from the Great Yarmouth tourism site that Donkeys are a big deal. I think we paid £2.50 for a donkey ride. It was worth the poundage. Not only did I get to see the little dude ride like a natural (knees in, like if you were riding bare-back), but the Hubs and I got many a giggle out of humming 'been through the desert on an ass with no name'. The attendant led the mule-train down to the shoreline and back. At one moment, I briefly wondered if the fog would swallow them up, but they made it back.

Here is one more of the little dude:

Then off to the bouncy arena. Let the games begin!

The  name of the 'Mr. Wobbles' play park was strangely accurate because, due to the foggy weather, the bounce houses kept falling in on themselves. We tore the Bean away from the bounce houses and continued our exploration of the strip. We popped into a craft show and I got the killer scarf previously referenced. I should have bought more. When will I learn? 

Just when we thought we may pack it up and drive back to our little corner of the world, Hubs suggested we take a walk down a side street where he thought there may be more shoppes to pop into. This is where we hit pay dirt. This was like an airplane crashing into a caravan of ambulances on their way to the train wreck. I wanted to avert my eyes, but I had to keep them open to absorb all the phantasmal wonders. Gently wafting from a CD store was a recording of British guy crooning  "The Gambler". Just let that sink in for a moment. There were 20 somethings to 50 somethings all tatted up with the latest in classy neck tattoo art work.  And when I say "latest", I mean no later than 1996.  Skulls, mermaids, rainbow unicorns, nekkid ladies, and all the other fantastic skin-art one thinks of when one wakes in the morning, raging gin-hangover-and-all, and says to oneself, "You know what, I'm gonna get me a big ole neck tattoo today!  And, you know what, I'm gonna get some 5/8" washers inserted in my ears while I'm at it!"  Nothing says "employable" or "upper management material" like gauges in your ears and a topless woman riding a unicorn tattooed on your forearm.  But they sure do love them li'l babies they started having when they were 14. 

Just across the street was a 'Western World'. Note the rebel flag. I shed a tear and felt like I was in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. Yes, if Tennessee and Myrtle Beach had a love child that spoke with a British accent, it would be Great Yarmouth. They had howling wolf screen printed tees, huge belt buckles with Elvis and pictures of old western movie stars. I winced a little when I realized that this perpetuated stereotype of Americans is why everyone we meet marvel how we're 'not what (I) expected'.  For example, over the Fourth of July weekend, British Telecom celebrated with a marathon of 'Duck Dynasty'.   The English seem disappointed that the Hubs does not have a beard that reaches his navel.

 And this was just the beginning! We stopped for lunch at an amazing restaurant, The Arches, which is  a family run restaurant tucked in the midst of this slice of Britain they would probably rather not serve. I should have been concerned when they had a sign that read: Spotted Dick (with cream) and Chocolate Mouse. They were Polish, so I forgave them, especially when they exuded customer service that we haven't found in any of the traditional pubs.

In the mist of this bustling euro-trash side street was an old, crumbling, Gothic stone church. They were having a fund raiser to replace the dilapidated roof. All I could think was 'this is a job for Whoopie Goldberg and those zany nuns of Sister Act'.

  

 Always classy, Hubs bought a holographic picture of Jesus with astrological signs in the background.  Jesus shifts his pose when you move the picture, which the Hubs seems endlessly delighted by.

Yea, I am pretty sure we will be driving the bus to Hell, so book early and avoid the rush. We will be serving ice water.  (On a side note- I've now redirected the Bean to sing "Highway to Bowling" since I came home and had to yell at the ignoramus Hubs for playing AC/DC while the Bean was in the house with him.  Do men ever learn or grow up?  I don't think so.  I'm just glad the two of them occasionally wear pants.  When I'm around anyway...)

The one very cool thing about Great Yarmouth is they have an off-shore wind farm. I'd heard the rumor that North Carolina was mulling over whether or not to erect an off-shore wind farm and the general consensus was that it would be an eyesore and a detriment to tourism. I am here to tell you, no, it would not. In fact, it looks rather progressive and neat-o. Furthermore, Great Yarmouth had an education and hands on center to educate the populous about the advantages of off-shore wind farming. The center was called E-on Energy.  

Oh my friends, I will be going back to Great Yarmouth. You bet. That ranks on one of the top places I've been so far in England. I will leave you with this final picture of the KFC rip off we spotted just before we headed back home. 

And just in case you'd thought I'd lost all hope:

But now, I must concentrate on the Bean's 5th birthday party happening this Saturday. 

Until next time, keep it classy.

Lisa