Before kids, before marriage, shortly after buying our house together, Shawn and I divvied up the house chores. Due to my compulsive shopping habits and Shawn's lack of enjoyment of yard maintenance, it was decided that I would mow the lawn and Shawn would do the grocery shopping. We are content with this set up.
A few years later, after marriage and children, this is still our arrangement. However, Shawn is now trying to convince Nick that it is not helpful when he puts one of each brand of fruit snacks into the cart and I'm constantly shutting off the mower before Evan sticks his hands under it. Chores are much more difficult and time consuming when you bring children into the mix.
This past Sunday Shawn announced that it was time to go to the store. Nick adamantly states that he does not want to go, he is staying home with mommy. Evan is in the corner trying to put his sandals on the wrong feet. Typically, whichever child accompanies Shawn to the grocery store gets to pick out a car off the Hot Wheels rack. Nick is torn weekly because he wants the car, but he doesn't want to go. This week he begs Shawn to get him a car even though he's not going. Shawn doesn't commit either way.
An hour or so later Shawn and Evan come in the house - Evan showing off his brand new aquamarine Camaro. Nick asks 1,000 times per second, "did you get me a car daddy?" Shawn tells him to calm down, he did get him a car, it's in one of the bags and he'll get it in a minute. Nick tears through every bag until he finds it.
While I'm putting away squashed bread and dented canned goods (thanks Nick) Nick finds his new car. He flips it over and discovers that, much to his chagrin, Daddy has picked out a PURPLE car. Nick throws the car onto the ground and declares, "I don't like this car. This car is purple. I HATE the color purple!" Shawn and I are stunned by this. This is not our child. Our Nicholas is always grateful when someone gives him a gift. Who is this person and what did they do with our boy?
Before Shawn is able to correct him, I jump in and lecture my child, "you do not get to act like an ungrateful little brat! Daddy was nice enough to buy you a car even though you didn't go to the grocery store with him. You thank someone when they give you a gift - even if you don't like it. Now apologize to your father!"
Nick hangs his head in shame and apologizes to Shawn. Shawn explains that, had Nick gone with him to the store, he could have picked out whichever car he wanted. Nick tries to make everything better by picking up the car, handing it over to me and telling me that I can keep it because purple is my favorite color.
I'm back in the kitchen and continue to unload groceries. I pull out the cottage cheese that Shawn bought for my breakfasts this week. Yuck! It's store brand cottage cheese in a ginormous container. This is not the cute little individual serving Breakstone's cottage cheese I was expecting. I say to Shawn, "eew, this is yucky cottage cheese. Why didn't you get the good stuff?" Nick responds smugly, "mommy, don't be ungrateful! Be glad that daddy got you any cottage cheese!"
Now I'm torn. Am I to be grateful that he absorbed the point we were trying to make by correcting him or am I angry that he's mouthing off at his mother? Guess it doesn't matter because, in the end, I know that I'm amused and laughing my ass off.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
He's a Little Runaway
A few weeks back the boys and I were coming in from work/school like normal. I had way too many things in my hands, they were running around out front in every direction except towards the house and, I swear, I heard the ground doves laughing at my attempts at rounding them up from their positions on the telephone lines above. Like a said, normal.
We burst through the door with the quiet gusto of a swat team during a drug raid. I tell the boys to take their shoes off and walk the 15 steps over to the dining room table where I unload the previously mentioned too many things onto a chair for sorting. This was when I noticed it was unusually quiet in my house. I look back and realize that Evan is not there with Nick. I also realize that the front door is slightly ajar.
I yank the door open and look out front, but do not see Evan anywhere. I run upstairs to search for him in their bedrooms while calling out to him. Evan has recently discovered the entertainment value in a well played game of hide-and-go-seek, so I'm used to him not responding when I call for him. The more panic in my voice, the less likely he is to respond. This is when I call out Shawn for back up.
While I'm looking under mattresses and inside toy boxes Shawn burst out the front door yelling Evan's name. He makes it down our front lawn and hears a voice from around the corner shouting back, "we have him!" Shawn runs down the street towards the mystery voice. This is about the time when I really start to panic (I'm still inside and know nothing of "The Voice" nor do I have any clue where my two-year-old is). I run out front and see Shawn carrying Evan back towards the house from several houses away - ACROSS THE STREET!
Come to find out that Evan not only crossed the street, but he ran down the block and around the corner. This must've been when he thought it was a good idea to go back out into the street to play - right when a car was headed towards him! Lucky for Evan and even luckier for us two angels dressed as grandmothers were walking their grand-daughter around the block and saw him. They got him out of the street and asked him which way his house was. The little bugger knew so they started walking him in the direction he pointed. This is the point in the story where I'm literally squatting on the ground trying not to throw up on my own feet from the panic, anxiety, terror, adrenalin and, finally, relief that I'm feeling.
The grandmother-angels where very understanding of how a two-year-old could escape a house in the bat of an eye and didn't find it necessary to call in Child Protective Services or anything, but they did get a good laugh out of us.
Once I could stand up again without feeling dizzy I marched directly into my mother's house. I did not greet her, I did not acknowledge my father, I simply demanded that she "lift the curse." I am well aware that at many points in my childhood and adolescence my mother mumbled the words, "I hope you have one just like you," to me. I wanted her to take it back because this little stunt proved to me that Evan is much more like me than I care to admit. My mother simply grinned and told me it was too late. I ask her, "don't you care about the personal safety of your grandchild? Take it back!" She explains that she would if she could, but that what's done is done. She also points out that she had no idea she would be living next door to me and my children when she mumbled those words all those years ago. Had she realized she would have to live through it all over again, I'm sure she would have bitten her lip.
It seems all too clear to me that the curse cannot be lifted and I am stuck raising a little monster who acts just like his mother. The good news is that he inherited his father's good looks and eventually I mellowed out, so there's a decent chance he will too.
We burst through the door with the quiet gusto of a swat team during a drug raid. I tell the boys to take their shoes off and walk the 15 steps over to the dining room table where I unload the previously mentioned too many things onto a chair for sorting. This was when I noticed it was unusually quiet in my house. I look back and realize that Evan is not there with Nick. I also realize that the front door is slightly ajar.
I yank the door open and look out front, but do not see Evan anywhere. I run upstairs to search for him in their bedrooms while calling out to him. Evan has recently discovered the entertainment value in a well played game of hide-and-go-seek, so I'm used to him not responding when I call for him. The more panic in my voice, the less likely he is to respond. This is when I call out Shawn for back up.
While I'm looking under mattresses and inside toy boxes Shawn burst out the front door yelling Evan's name. He makes it down our front lawn and hears a voice from around the corner shouting back, "we have him!" Shawn runs down the street towards the mystery voice. This is about the time when I really start to panic (I'm still inside and know nothing of "The Voice" nor do I have any clue where my two-year-old is). I run out front and see Shawn carrying Evan back towards the house from several houses away - ACROSS THE STREET!
Come to find out that Evan not only crossed the street, but he ran down the block and around the corner. This must've been when he thought it was a good idea to go back out into the street to play - right when a car was headed towards him! Lucky for Evan and even luckier for us two angels dressed as grandmothers were walking their grand-daughter around the block and saw him. They got him out of the street and asked him which way his house was. The little bugger knew so they started walking him in the direction he pointed. This is the point in the story where I'm literally squatting on the ground trying not to throw up on my own feet from the panic, anxiety, terror, adrenalin and, finally, relief that I'm feeling.
The grandmother-angels where very understanding of how a two-year-old could escape a house in the bat of an eye and didn't find it necessary to call in Child Protective Services or anything, but they did get a good laugh out of us.
Once I could stand up again without feeling dizzy I marched directly into my mother's house. I did not greet her, I did not acknowledge my father, I simply demanded that she "lift the curse." I am well aware that at many points in my childhood and adolescence my mother mumbled the words, "I hope you have one just like you," to me. I wanted her to take it back because this little stunt proved to me that Evan is much more like me than I care to admit. My mother simply grinned and told me it was too late. I ask her, "don't you care about the personal safety of your grandchild? Take it back!" She explains that she would if she could, but that what's done is done. She also points out that she had no idea she would be living next door to me and my children when she mumbled those words all those years ago. Had she realized she would have to live through it all over again, I'm sure she would have bitten her lip.
It seems all too clear to me that the curse cannot be lifted and I am stuck raising a little monster who acts just like his mother. The good news is that he inherited his father's good looks and eventually I mellowed out, so there's a decent chance he will too.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Prove it!
Like many parents, I tell Nick that I will check on him before I go to bed and kiss him one last time. Shawn takes him up, reads him a story and tucks him in. Nick has begun a new habit in the last couple of weeks that I just have to share. Before giving in and going to sleep, Nick gives me a stuffed animal off his bed. Each night it is a different stuffed animal. Each night the instructions are the same. When I go into his room at night to check on him, I am to return the stuffed animal to it's rightful place in his bed. This is to prove that I really did go into his room to check on him. The last couple nights he's even gone as far as telling me exactly where in his bed the animal should be placed. I am fascinated by this. I don't know what is more amusing to me, the fact that Nick doesn't trust that I really go in to check on him and he needs proof, or the fact that he came up with such a clever way for me to prove it to him. Either way, I think I'm in for it when he starts questioning the existence of Santa Clause, the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny. I wonder what we're going to have to do to prove how real they are.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
annunciation can be very, very important
So, I go to drop the kids off at school the other day. Nick's preschool teacher calls me into a separate classroom to discuss an issue with me. Uh oh, I'm worried, we can't even talk out in the open, what the hell happened? She proceeds to tell me that they were having a classroom discussion the day prior about getting dressed up. Reasons why people get dressed up, where they would go, etc. Someone mentioned getting dressed up and wearing a wig. The teacher then asks if anyone knows who would wear a wig when they get dressed up. According to the teacher, my Nicholas proudly announces to the whole class that "the blacks do". This baffles the teacher because none of the children, let alone my Nicholas, have ever referred to black people as "the blacks" in the classroom. I'm baffled because first, Shawn and I do not use that phrase, and second, Nicholas is still young enough that, to him, black people are brown. She continues. She asked Nicholas why he would say that and he responds, "because they do. All of them do." When asked how he knows this he tells her that he saw it on TV. I have no idea how to respond to this. I do tell her that, if this is what he said, he couldn't have meant anything derogatory by it. She knows this, but has to bring it to my attention because apparently, one of the other children repeated the conversation to his/her parents who were concerned and questioned the school. Great.
I apologize and tell her that I will speak to Nicholas. At this point the children are cleaning up the toddler room where they're all dropped off in the morning and filtering into their age appropriate classrooms. Nick is playing with/putting away mega bloks. I pull Nick aside, into the bathroom as this is the only place where we can be alone, and I explain that he is not in any trouble, but that I need to ask him about something. The conversation goes as follows:
me: "Your teacher tells me that you told her 'the blacks' wear wigs. Why would you say this?"
Nick: rolls his eyes and slaps a hand against his thigh as if he's had this conversation 400 times. He responds, "no, I told them, the BLOCKS wear wigs!"
me: "Nicholas, do not fib to me, blocks do not wear wigs."
Nick: "They do in that commercial where the daddy and little boy are in a car driving and their hair falls off and they swap hair. And in that movie where they're under water searching for treasure. All the little block people that I have wear wigs. And you can swap their wigs between them."
me: hysterical laughter
Apparently Nick was thinking about the plastic hair that the little Lego people have and he was describing a commercial that currently runs on TV and the cartoon about Lego Atlantis. I'm utterly relieved that my child is not referring to an entire race of people as "the blacks" and cannot wait to share with his teacher (who happens to be black) how misunderstood he was in this instance.
I'm not sure who found the explanation more entertaining, but I'm sure that we all owe Nicholas an apology!
I apologize and tell her that I will speak to Nicholas. At this point the children are cleaning up the toddler room where they're all dropped off in the morning and filtering into their age appropriate classrooms. Nick is playing with/putting away mega bloks. I pull Nick aside, into the bathroom as this is the only place where we can be alone, and I explain that he is not in any trouble, but that I need to ask him about something. The conversation goes as follows:
me: "Your teacher tells me that you told her 'the blacks' wear wigs. Why would you say this?"
Nick: rolls his eyes and slaps a hand against his thigh as if he's had this conversation 400 times. He responds, "no, I told them, the BLOCKS wear wigs!"
me: "Nicholas, do not fib to me, blocks do not wear wigs."
Nick: "They do in that commercial where the daddy and little boy are in a car driving and their hair falls off and they swap hair. And in that movie where they're under water searching for treasure. All the little block people that I have wear wigs. And you can swap their wigs between them."
me: hysterical laughter
Apparently Nick was thinking about the plastic hair that the little Lego people have and he was describing a commercial that currently runs on TV and the cartoon about Lego Atlantis. I'm utterly relieved that my child is not referring to an entire race of people as "the blacks" and cannot wait to share with his teacher (who happens to be black) how misunderstood he was in this instance.
I'm not sure who found the explanation more entertaining, but I'm sure that we all owe Nicholas an apology!
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Happy Birthday to Nick (and Shawn)
Groundhogs' day is a very special day in my family. Not only is it the day that Panxsutawney Phil lets us know how much longer we have to wait until spring, it is the day that 2 out of the 3 men in my house were born. Granted their actual days of birth were 35 years apart, but Shawn and Nicholas do share a birthday. This particular year was a biggie because Shawn hit the big 4-0 and Nicholas turned 5. I cannot believe that my little man is already 5-years-old, never mind that I'm married to a 40-year-old. Neither of them act their age - Shawn acts years younger and, at times, Nicholas seems much more mature to me.
For their actual day we didn't do too much. Nicholas brought Ben 10 cupcakes to school for him and his friends to enjoy. Shawn went off to work like any other day. We let Nick pick what we were to have for dinner - pizza - and had a couple people over for a small celebration. Mom-mom, Pop-pop, Uncle Jim, Aunt Diane, Uncle Jose and Anthony all joined us for pizza and cake. It has become tradition that I get a canoli cake for Shawn every year. Since his birthday has been overshadowed by Nick's, I think it's only fair that he gets his favorite cake. Both boys made out well with their gifts this year. Nicholas got the Tangler, Chopper and Fangor Battle Force 5 vehicles from Mommy, Daddy and Evan; the Zelix vehicle from Mom-mom and Pop-pop; the movie Alpha and Omega from Uncle Jim and a Nerf sword and shield set from Diane, Jose, Olivia and Anthony. It was a nice night - the kids had fun playing and the adults got to chit chat for a while before calling it a night. The actual party was scheduled for the following Sunday (super bowl Sunday).
We had a very busy weekend planned. On Saturday, we were expecting cousins from out of town to drive in, in the morning. Then, those cousins, Nick and I were going to head out to Manhattan for another cousin's first birthday party while Shawn went to a tattoo convention with a good friend of ours. I don't know what was more exciting to Nick, going to NYC, riding the train to get there or being able to go with one of his favorite cousins. Then, Sunday morning was Nick's birthday party at Pump it Up. Before the weekend ever began I was exhausted.
Friday night, the boys and I headed out to go shopping for a birthday gift to take to the city. We were nearly to the front door of the store we were heading to when Nick started acting funny. He told me that he was going to be sick and, before he could even finish what he was saying, he threw up right there in the parking lot. I sent Shawn and Evan into the store to get some water and I stayed with Nick to make sure he was done and OK. A couple minutes later he told me that he was fine and we could go inside. I cleaned him up and went inside to find the other half of my family. We were able to shop without incident and Nick seemed to be feeling perfectly fine. Of course, I was still terrified thinking about the weekend we had planned and what this new development meant for those plans.
We finished at that store, but I still needed to run into the book store really quickly. I told Shawn to wait in the car with the boys while I ran inside. I couldn't have been more than 15 minutes, but Nick was passed out in the car by the time I came back out. Obviously he wasn't feeling well, it was 2 hours before bedtime and he was out cold.
We got home and, aside from being tired, Nick seemed OK. I still contacted the out of town cousins to let them know that it was possible Nick was really sick. In the morning Nick seemed better, but still tired. I was not willing to over do it by going to the city and having him too sick to go to his own birthday party, so I contact the cousins and let them know that we weren't going to the city, but that they were still more than welcome to come to our place for the night if they wanted. If not, we totally understood and wouldn't be upset at all. They decided, partly due to a cold on their side as well, to cancel the trip and stay home. We decided we would plan another weekend trip to the city to make it up to the kids.
Shawn still went to the convention as planned and I stayed home with the boys. Nick has been sick before, but he has never acted the way he did on Saturday. He showed no symptoms of being sick other than being a couch potato all day. Nick literally sat on the couch and watched TV all day. He did not get sick, he had no fever, he claimed he felt fine, but him system apparently needed some rest. I did notice that he was not eating very much at all though.
Thankfully, around mid-afternoon, Nick jumped off the couch and started acting like himself. He and Evan ran around and played the rest of the afternoon. I was so relieved that it looked like he would be fine for his party after all. I was beginning to think I was going to have to go and host his birthday party without him.
Sunday morning I was the first one out of bed in the house. I was downstairs getting our things together for the party when Nick came downstairs. He had a big grin on his face and told me that he felt all better and would be able to go to his party! He seemed so happy that his belly did not betray him. The rest of the family woke up in turn and we were off to Pump it Up for Nick's party. I must admit that the thought of Nick bouncing around on giant inflatables was terrifying to me after how he had been acting, but what were we to do?
Thankfully, Nick was able to play to his heart's content without vomiting on any of his guests! I'm not sure which of my kids had more fun, but they both ran around like lunatics. Now, I'm sure hosting a birthday party with a guest list of 25 children is not how Shawn envisioned his 40th birthday to be, but he was a trooper and even seemed to have some fun of his own. After an hour and a half of bouncing, the kids sat down to eat their pizza and cake.
Back at home we unloaded all Nick's loot. He had so many bags and boxes filled with presents I thought we would need an addition on the house to fit it all. Luckily he's a pretty generous kid and packed up a box full of toys to donate just before his birthday to make room for new toys. I think his favorite toys this year were his Nerf swords, his Ben 10 car (from his girlfriend Brielle!) and his Imaginext Batcave.
Once all the presents were opened, all the garbage thrown away and Nick could finally just play with his new toys we all crashed as if we hadn't slept in years. I s'pose the toys will have to wait until after nap.
For their actual day we didn't do too much. Nicholas brought Ben 10 cupcakes to school for him and his friends to enjoy. Shawn went off to work like any other day. We let Nick pick what we were to have for dinner - pizza - and had a couple people over for a small celebration. Mom-mom, Pop-pop, Uncle Jim, Aunt Diane, Uncle Jose and Anthony all joined us for pizza and cake. It has become tradition that I get a canoli cake for Shawn every year. Since his birthday has been overshadowed by Nick's, I think it's only fair that he gets his favorite cake. Both boys made out well with their gifts this year. Nicholas got the Tangler, Chopper and Fangor Battle Force 5 vehicles from Mommy, Daddy and Evan; the Zelix vehicle from Mom-mom and Pop-pop; the movie Alpha and Omega from Uncle Jim and a Nerf sword and shield set from Diane, Jose, Olivia and Anthony. It was a nice night - the kids had fun playing and the adults got to chit chat for a while before calling it a night. The actual party was scheduled for the following Sunday (super bowl Sunday).
We had a very busy weekend planned. On Saturday, we were expecting cousins from out of town to drive in, in the morning. Then, those cousins, Nick and I were going to head out to Manhattan for another cousin's first birthday party while Shawn went to a tattoo convention with a good friend of ours. I don't know what was more exciting to Nick, going to NYC, riding the train to get there or being able to go with one of his favorite cousins. Then, Sunday morning was Nick's birthday party at Pump it Up. Before the weekend ever began I was exhausted.
Friday night, the boys and I headed out to go shopping for a birthday gift to take to the city. We were nearly to the front door of the store we were heading to when Nick started acting funny. He told me that he was going to be sick and, before he could even finish what he was saying, he threw up right there in the parking lot. I sent Shawn and Evan into the store to get some water and I stayed with Nick to make sure he was done and OK. A couple minutes later he told me that he was fine and we could go inside. I cleaned him up and went inside to find the other half of my family. We were able to shop without incident and Nick seemed to be feeling perfectly fine. Of course, I was still terrified thinking about the weekend we had planned and what this new development meant for those plans.
We finished at that store, but I still needed to run into the book store really quickly. I told Shawn to wait in the car with the boys while I ran inside. I couldn't have been more than 15 minutes, but Nick was passed out in the car by the time I came back out. Obviously he wasn't feeling well, it was 2 hours before bedtime and he was out cold.
We got home and, aside from being tired, Nick seemed OK. I still contacted the out of town cousins to let them know that it was possible Nick was really sick. In the morning Nick seemed better, but still tired. I was not willing to over do it by going to the city and having him too sick to go to his own birthday party, so I contact the cousins and let them know that we weren't going to the city, but that they were still more than welcome to come to our place for the night if they wanted. If not, we totally understood and wouldn't be upset at all. They decided, partly due to a cold on their side as well, to cancel the trip and stay home. We decided we would plan another weekend trip to the city to make it up to the kids.
Shawn still went to the convention as planned and I stayed home with the boys. Nick has been sick before, but he has never acted the way he did on Saturday. He showed no symptoms of being sick other than being a couch potato all day. Nick literally sat on the couch and watched TV all day. He did not get sick, he had no fever, he claimed he felt fine, but him system apparently needed some rest. I did notice that he was not eating very much at all though.
Thankfully, around mid-afternoon, Nick jumped off the couch and started acting like himself. He and Evan ran around and played the rest of the afternoon. I was so relieved that it looked like he would be fine for his party after all. I was beginning to think I was going to have to go and host his birthday party without him.
Sunday morning I was the first one out of bed in the house. I was downstairs getting our things together for the party when Nick came downstairs. He had a big grin on his face and told me that he felt all better and would be able to go to his party! He seemed so happy that his belly did not betray him. The rest of the family woke up in turn and we were off to Pump it Up for Nick's party. I must admit that the thought of Nick bouncing around on giant inflatables was terrifying to me after how he had been acting, but what were we to do?
Thankfully, Nick was able to play to his heart's content without vomiting on any of his guests! I'm not sure which of my kids had more fun, but they both ran around like lunatics. Now, I'm sure hosting a birthday party with a guest list of 25 children is not how Shawn envisioned his 40th birthday to be, but he was a trooper and even seemed to have some fun of his own. After an hour and a half of bouncing, the kids sat down to eat their pizza and cake.
Back at home we unloaded all Nick's loot. He had so many bags and boxes filled with presents I thought we would need an addition on the house to fit it all. Luckily he's a pretty generous kid and packed up a box full of toys to donate just before his birthday to make room for new toys. I think his favorite toys this year were his Nerf swords, his Ben 10 car (from his girlfriend Brielle!) and his Imaginext Batcave.
Once all the presents were opened, all the garbage thrown away and Nick could finally just play with his new toys we all crashed as if we hadn't slept in years. I s'pose the toys will have to wait until after nap.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Evan Has A Dream
Evan is now 2-years-old and in the toddler room at his preschool. On occasion, the kids are assigned homework. Usually their homework is tracing letters or shapes or coloring in a picture. For Martin Luther King, Jr. day, Evan was assigned homework of a different nature. He was asked to write his own 'I have a dream' poem. Now, I'm sure the teachers realize that a 2-year-old, even one as brilliant as mine, cannot write poetry. Therefore, I took it upon myself to write a poem on his behalf. I believe I truly captured Evan's spirit and was able to relay what Evan would have written about had he been able to comprehend the assignment. The poem that Evan turned in read as follows:
Evan Has a Dream
Evan has a dream that, one day, he will live in a land
where all adults beckon to his every command
And in that land, his word would be law
all would obey him, big and small
Every TV would be tuned to PBS, Nick Jr. or Disney
so he could view his Super Why, Wubsy or Mickey
He would be served chicken nuggets upon request
Eat a vegetable? Surly you jest
Playtime for all, any time, every day
these are his rules, this is his way
Never a time out or a harsh disciplinary word
punishing Evan, the thought is absurd
Bath time is meant for bubbles and fun
and squirting Daddy with his water gun
Bedtime is flexible, he'll sleep when he's through
running and jumping and giggling too
Evan has a dream and I hate to admit
he's closer that I'd like, to accomplishing it!
Friday, December 31, 2010
The Polar Express
As I mentioned in my last post, Nicholas has not wanted anything anywhere nearly as badly as he's wanted to ride on the Polar Express. he has asked every Santa, wished on every star and even prayed for a chance to ride on the magical train and head to the North pole. After much drama, we were able to score tickets for the Polar Express ride run by the Delaware River Railroad Excursion in Phillipsburg, New Jersey! We even managed to get a couple extra tickets so Nick could bring his girlfriend Brielle (and her mommy, of course) with us.
We decided not to tell Nick ahead of time about the ride. I was afraid that he would ask 9 million times a day until the day arrived. I think the anticipation of Christmas itself is about all my Nicholas can handle.
Saturday morning I sat Nick down (in front of my video camera) and told him that Santa has called me with some good news and some bad news. I told him that Santa had called to say that he knew Nicholas wanted to ride the Polar Express, but that, unfortunately, he would be far too busy on Christmas Eve to allow Nick to ride with him. Nick looked upset, so I didn't leave him hanging for too long. I then told him that the good news was that, if Nick were able to get into him jammies, Santa said he could ride the Polar Express TONIGHT! Nick slapped himself in the had and fell over in excitement. He then told me that that was, "awesome good news!"
After lunch and nap, Brielle and he mommy met us at the house. We let the kids exchange Christmas presents - Nick got a Battle Force 5 battle action Saber vehicle; Evan got a set of Dinosaur Train figures and Brielle got a ballerina jewelry box and a Hello Kitty necklace and bracelet to go in the jewelry box - loaded them all into my van and headed towards Phillipsburg.
Once we arrived in town - a long ride when you're traveling with 3 over-excited children under the age of 6 - we pulled into a parking lot along the Delaware River and loaded onto a trolley, which took us to the train station. Upon arriving at the train station, I turned in my confirmation e-mail for 6 shiny, golden tickets. Nick was just as excited about his golden ticket as he was about the pending ride. We boarded the train with little incident and immediately started searching for the bathroom. Brielle and I were waiting in line to use the bathroom when she asked the Conductor how long the train ride would be. The Conductor then showed me just how amazing this ride was going to be. She replied by taking a golden pocket watch out of her vest and telling Brielle that the ride would last approximately 1 hour and 45 minutes or as long as it took to reach the North Pole. She then looked more closely at her watch and shouted, "oh my, we're late! We can't be late! I've never been late!" She then pocketed her watch and took off towards the other end of the train in a mad hurry. I had been on the train less than 5 minutes and was already very impressed.
After potty break time was over and we were all seating, a loud "all aboard" echoed through the train car and we were off. It wasn't long before the Conductor was punching tickets. Nicholas and Brielle both got a "B" for believe (though Brielle thinks it was for her name) and Evan got a "L" for lead. Shortly thereafter, the kids were served hot chocolate and chocolate chip cookies. I believe that's when a recording of the story, The Polar Express by Chris Van Allsburg, was played over the intercom. After the story was finished, the train unexpectedly jolted to a stop. The Conductor shouted that there was only one reason the train would stop - it must be caribou! Shortly after that, we reached the North Pole where Santa and his elves took a short break from their toy making to visit with us on the train. Santa and his elves visited with every family and posed for pictures with each child. Every child on board was given a bell - the first gift of Christmas. Brielle's mom and I visited the gift car and bought some goodies for the kids. Then Santa's elves walked through selling stuffed Santa's - of course we picked up a couple of those as well. A ride on the Polar Express wouldn't be complete without a visit from some Hobos, so after Santa returned to the North Pole, a couple Hobos climbed aboard and lead us in some Christmas carols. One of them had a guitar while the other played an accordion and trumpet (not at the same time). By the time they were finished we were nearly back at the station.
While the children were disappointed that they were not able to get off the train while we were at the North Pole, they accepted the explanation that nobody was allowed at the North Pole during Christmas time. I told them that we were lucky that Santa took a break to come and visit with us. When asked about the children in the story who were able to run amok at the North Pole, I explained that I thought that part of the story was made up.
The characters on board the train did a wonderful job entertaining us during the trip. During the lulls, Shawn was able to occupy the children by having them hunt for North Pole Monkeys by shining their flashlight out the train window into the passing woods.
While Evan and Brielle passed out in the car on the way home, Nick was wide awake the whole ride. He even continued to talk to Brielle long after she fell asleep.
This entry was written almost immediately after we rode the train, but an error with the website prevented me from publishing it right away. I then got super busy with the holiday, our annual visit from my in-laws and everyday life. Since I am finally (a month later) getting around to re-typing and publishing this story, I thought I'd ask Nick was his favorite part of the ride was. His answer - "when Santa came on the train with us!" Evan still hollers, "All Aboard" every time he sees a train. Proof that, at least so far, the kids are remembering their magical night!
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