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We're all trying to vie for spots as Ror's new best friend. Yesterday he started the practice of bestowing the title upon whomever was highest in his favor at the moment. It was really meaningful, the first time he said it-- "Daddy, you're my best friend!" Chris was over the moon with joy. A few short hours later, he was a little miffed when Ror then said, "Connor, YOU'RE my best friend!" He sold out just because Connor let him play with his new Mr. Fantastic action buddy. Yet although we know it's a fleeting honor, we're all thrilled when we get it, and sort of look snottily at other members of the family when we do. Tonight at dinner, I heard, "Mommy, you're my best friend! Give me a hug!" As I sprinted around the table (knocking over the meatloaf dish in my haste), I cast a triumphant glance at Connor, now dethroned from best-friend status. Connor takes it very personally when he's no longer the family-member in favor-- he moans, "I thought *I* was your best friend! What happened to ME, Ror? What about ME??" Chris and I are much more mature about it; we would never SAY that a two-year-old's capricious favor actually means something to us; we just look at each other scathingly and say with our eyes what we've always felt: "I KNEW he loved me best!" We're all enjoying it immensely, because Katie hasn't been over since this new phase of bestowing best-friendship has begun; we hold no illusions that we'll retain our status when she comes over. Strangely enough (okay, let's be honest, not at all surprisingly), Riley Kate has not once earned the title of best friend.
Connor's been testing his sartorial independence these days. When we're not planning to leave the house and I'm feeling particularly too clumsy to scale the stairs (have you seen my latest pregnancy pic? I'm hee-yooge!), I'll tell Connor to go downstairs and dress himself, which results in any number of fashion don't's. It's almost as though Dad were dressing him-- just kidding! Earlier in the week he came up wearing a red and blue Spiderman t-shirt with navy and yellow fleece-lined sweats. I questioned why he was wearing insulated pants in 103 degree weather, and he replied, "hey, this air conditioner makes me chilly-cold! I need these pants!" This afternoon he turned eating a nectarine into The New Jersey Nectarine Massacre, and I sent him downstairs to change his shirt; he returned wearing a cable-knit turtleneck sweater with khaki shorts. Chris asked with a straight face, "Um, aren't you a little hot in that shirt?" Connor practically shrieked, "I AM CHILLY COLD!" I pressed further, "Well, then why are you wearing shorts?" "BECAUSE MY LEGS ARE SWEATY HOT!" Whatever-- we'll pick our battles.
Speaking of battles, what better segue than the word "battle" to move on to an update on Riley Katie, our little dictator in training? I put her hair into a cute little ponytail on top of her head this morning, complete with a curly bow. It was very Pebbles Flinstone-esque. She typically enjoys hairbows for the first five minutes of wear, until everyone in the house has seen and ooh-ed and ahh-ed themselves silly, and then she's sick of it. But today the 'tude was just coursing through her veins full force, and the minute I put her down after clipping the bow onto her ponytail, she turned around, looked me STRAIGHT in the eye, ripped the bow out of her hair and threw it on the ground. All while maintaining eye contact. I think she even raised her eyebrows a little, begging me to do something about it. At lunch, she ripped it out, threw it on the floor and gave me a cocky little look that said, "We're in PUBLIC. You wanna fight this battle right here?" Back into the hair it went. I'm persistent, or very, very stupid. When we're in the car, she usually calls my name so I'll turn around and watch as she rips it out of her hair. Today was no different, and she even gave an evil little grin as she did the rip-and-toss routine. Why do I picture her teenage years as feeling like a scene from The Exorcist?
So, back to cheerful!
As most people know, Ror is a very boisterous boy. I'd have to say he's, uh, gifted in the boisterousness arena. So given his, um, TALENTS, we've decided that at present it wouldn't be the wisest decision to purchase toy weapons for him. We're fine with weapons as a whole-- we think boys need to be boys and that it's okay to play with swords, etc. But Ror seems to have a knack for self injury and injury to his siblings, so we think we'll need to wait some time before introducing even large blunt objects, like baseball bats. Ror has adapted to this beautifully-- he no longer constantly needs a baby bottle; he's able to drink from a "big boy" cup, but does have an occasional boppy. He then carries the bottle around with him and employs it in a multitude of surprising uses. Just today, for instance, he hit a home run with his... bottle. He ran around as He-Man, saving the world through his super strength and use of his sword, aka... his bottle. He has also been known to kill spiders, shoot bad guys, fix cars, and build skyscrapers, all with his handy dandy bottle. We're quite proud.
Meanwhile, Connor, evidently our prison-reform-activist-in-training, spent his day rehabilitating villains. I stood in for Doc Oc, Ror obliged us with a touching rendition of the Green Goblin, and Riley-Kate unkowingly and unwillingly played the part of "a bad lady who beats up on babies." Connor, of course, was our superhero, vascillating between Spiderman and He-Man. However, when the time came for our hero to obliterate the offenders, he sat each down and told them why lives of crime don't pay. He explained that he understood that they just made bad choices and that we all make mistakes, but that if each villain would just come with him, he would help him or her learn how to be a hero and save people. We all chose to turn from our lives of crime and became heroes ourselves, rehabilitated, wiser, and with a newfound sense of self-esteem. Well, Ror and I did, anyway. Riley Kate remained bewildered and even a little insulted about why she had been on the receiving end of this lecture in the first place. Connor is no longer recommending that her sentence be commuted.
We were a little surprised that Riley Katie didn't want to participate in Connor's little play, given that she had spent the previous four days honing her acting skills. We had houseguests, and Riley Katie played the part of the deaf mute (excuse the lack of verbal hygiene; I mean, she played the part of the person with challenges of receptive and expressive speaking skills. I know I'm making Katie really proud right now.). I would say, "Riley Katie, can you sing the clean up song for Nelsa?" She would give me a look that clearly said, "I have never said a word in my life, you crazy woman, so stop asking me to sing." Later, "Riley Kate, is this your baby? What do you say to your baby?" Another look that indicated that Mom is kooky and the kid doesn't talk. It sort of reminded Chris and I of that cartoon with the frog in the box who sings until the guy shows him to another person. Very frustrating. Additionally, Chris discovered today that she no longer responds to cutesy versions of her name when being addressed for disciplinary purposes. "Riley Katie, please don't tear up the book," is useless. "Riley Kate, come here," might as well be spoken in Spanish. "Riley Katharine Regina, come over here," brings a speedy response, though. Our big boys refer to this as "using the government name." Whenever I would yell, "DOMINICK ALLAN WILLIAMS, GET OVER HERE RIGHT NOW," the other boys always said, "Uh-oh, she's bustin' out your government name; you're in trouble." Apparently Riley Kate has internalized the long-held belief of all rebellious children: Mom's not really serious until she uses your government name.
For all who send me their cute emails telling me that they read this journal daily for a good dose of laughter, STOP READING NOW! This entry won't be so cheerful!
Connor had a night terror last night and I am still sort of freaking out about it. Thank God he was in the bed with me when it happened. Usually Connor comes to bed with me if Chris is up late doing work or spending time with the big boys, as was the case last night. Then around midnight he woke up, or so I thought, thrashing around the bed, screaming and terrified. Mother of the Year here, I decided to to slap him lightly to jolt him awake after he failed to respond to my voice, and when I slapped him, it was like he didn't even notice. He just kept flailing around, even hitting his head off the wrought iron headboard, yelling that "they" were getting him, that "they" were making him mad, that he was afraid of "them," but when I asked who "they" were and kept reassuring him that it was just him and Mommy in the bed, he didn't even hear me. I got really freaked out, and in another bright maneuver left him alone to go get Chris, who was at the complete other end of the house and couldn't hear us all the way downstairs. I ran as fast as I could but by the time we got back to him, he was in the bathroom, peeing everywhere and screaming and freaking out. Then he ran back to our bedroom and kept thrashing around. We put him on the bed and Chris was loudly telling him that he was okay and no one was going to hurt him, but he just kept going. Then the most bizarre thing was that if one of his thrashes landed him in a lying-down position, he'd sometimes zonk back out for about a minute before waking back up and going at it again. I could not believe that we could be shouting to him "MOMMY IS RIGHT HERE! HERE, LET MOMMY HOLD YOU!" but he couldn't hear us. I was shaking his arm around and he didn't even seem to notice. Then at the end, he seemed to start to hear some of the words Chris was saying, and he was sort of repeating them, but he kept incorporating them into whatever nightmare he was having. And then it was over very suddenly and he fell asleep in my arms. After twenty minutes I tried to move him, but he woke up, and he said, "Hi Mommy, I want to sleep in your bed..." and sort of dozed off again. So I said, "Hey, buddy, did you have a bad dream?" He started to sort of wake up a little and said, "No... Well, I think I might have had one like thirteen days ago, but I didn't have any today." We kept him in the bed with us and he just slept normally for the rest of the night. But the whole thing was over 45 minutes long and really freaked us out!
I called Mom Elio today to see if she had any advice on what to do if it happens again, because I remember her telling me that Chris did this when he was small. But thankfully she said that to her recollection, it happened pretty infrequently. But she did say that just as with Connor, that even if she thought she got Chris awake, she had no way of knowing if he was really awake or still dreaming. So I guess we just have to basically keep him from hurting himself when/if this happens again, but I'm hoping that if it has to happen again, we get a nice long break first-- I'm still a little shaken! But happily for him, Connor has no clue that anything happened last night. We asked him again in the morning to tell us about his dreams and he said, "I don't think I dreamed anything last night! I guess I flew to Planet Nothing!" What a kid.
Editing to add this link that my friend directed me to, in case anyone else has a kid who does this:
http://askdrsears.com/html/7/T071300.asp
Shocking, that it describes exactly what happened to Connor. So I'm going to try the solutions that the article recommends if it occurs again.
Forgot to do an entry last night...
Yesterday we went to Chuck E Cheese for lunch because it's been too hot to go outside very often, so the kids needed to expend some energy. Connor's favorite thing to do at CEC is "Chuck E's sketchbook," where you pose for a picture and then it prints in a pencil sketch. He did one for me, one for Grandmom and one for Mammam, all with different "poses". It was hilarious, but so cute that he was so proud of being able to do it all by himself. We barely see him when we're there; he's always darting off to another game.
We got super excited, watching Rory interact with Chuck E, because we can really tell he's going to enjoy meeting the characters at Disney. He kept running up to Chuck E saying "give me five, Chuck E! Give me a hug!" Then all of the kids did a little conga line behind the mouse and Ror was first in line; he had so much fun.
Riley Kate doesn't really have a blast at CEC, because there's not much for her to do, but she liked watching the little show and bobbing her head around to the music.
Then during the afternoon Connor wanted to play his favorite game-- "Mammam and Pappap." He's always Pappap, I'm always Mammam. It's the same every time. I say, "So, Pappap, what should we do today?" and he replies, "The same thing we like to do every day, Mammam-- sit and talk about how much we love our boy, Connor, and how he's our favorite boy ever. And then you can cook me some dinner." I often wonder if he really believes that Mammam and Pappap pretty much just spend their lives talking about what a great boy he is. Well, I guess from the fuss they make over him when he visits, it's understandable that he'd get that impression.
Ror has started playing the really repetitive pretend games too. One of them is "I got a surprise for you," which entails him saying to whomever he's playing with, "I got a surprise for you.... It's.... KATIE!" And then the recipient has to say, "WOW, KATIE is here? What a GREAT surprise!" Then he says, "You want to play with her?" And the other person is supposed to say, "Well, we can BOTH play with her." Then it starts over. The other game, we're not sure what it's about. He puts a baseball card, library card, or any rectangular piece of cardboard in his pocket and says, "Gueeeessssss what?.... I got a ticket!" Then repeat, repeat, repeat. We have no idea what it's about. We THINK maybe he saw some sort of Willy Wonka commercial and it has something to do with the golden ticket. That, or he's trying to tell me that Dad got a speeding ticket that I don't know about-- just kidding!
Riley Kate played the drama pretty high yesterday, even for her. Chris was getting out of the shower and she came into the bathroom (she tries to come in anytime the door is even a smidge open, because she wants to put her hands in the toilet), so before she could even get near the toilet, he said, "Riley Katie, OUT!" She immediately dropped to the floor, flailing and sobbing, "No, Daddy, NOOOOO!" Later I was sitting on the playroom floor holding Rory and she stood in front of screaming, "NO! ME! NONONONONO!" When I didn't immediately put Ror down, she dropped to the floor. Her tantrums are very soap-opera like; she puts the back of her hand to her head and limply falls to the floor, followed by sort of flopping around like a fish. I'm hoping it's just a phase, but the boys never really did anything like this. I found myself in the bookstore yesterday perusing titles like "Raising your Spirited Child," "The Strong-Willed Child" and even "Reviving Ophelia," thinking maybe she's just loudly expressing her feminine identity in a house full of masculinity. Didn't find anything that looked like it would relate to her, though, so I went home empty-handed and renewed my resolve to wait it out and see if she grows out of it.
Well, I'm off to get all of my work done before our guests arrive!
Today marks exactly one month till we depart for Disney. The kids made (okay, the kids helped ME make) a countdown to Disney calendar, replete with glittering Mickeys, Goofy cut-outs and Magical Quotes. Then they watched the "planning your disney vacation" video nine thousand times. Connor has obviously picked up some of Mom's ravenous pregnancy appetite-- he was watching the resort part of the video and yelled, "THAT hotel has a FOOD COURT! I want to stay THERE!" We went out to dinner and all the way to the restaurant Connor and Rory argued over which movies they'll watch in the van on the way to Disney. We've decided to drive this year, since the plane gave Rory and Chris ear infections, and the hectic pace of getting up at four a.m. to catch a plane left all of us pretty ill by the time we arrived on last year's trip. During our last Disney trip, we managed to rack up two ear infections, one ruptured pubic bone, one severely bruised hand (thank you, Epcot sliding doors), one upper respiratory infection, and a nasty case of gastric side effects of antibiotics that left Ror vomiting all over Katie at least ten times during the vacation. We figure driving will be more restful and less likely to cause otological complications.
This evening we went to Maggie Moo's, an ice cream place where you choose your flavor and then choose the "mix-ins," much like the Cold Stone Creamery national chain. Ror picked cotton candy ice cream with m&m mix-ins-- he was completely blue (as was the dining room table) by the time he finished. Connor picked a disgusting mix of chocolate ice cream with gummy bears, sprinkles, and reese's pieces. I picked a much more dignified fudge ice cream with sno-caps. Chris skipped the ice cream altogether, citing his discomfort with the entire practice of smushing stuff into your ice cream.
During dinner this evening, Connor and Riley Kate were really loving it up-- Riley Kate would lean over and kiss his arm, and he'd hug her and say, "Oh, you're a good little sister!" Then he'd turn to me and say, "MOM! You're supposed to say, 'look at my two good kids, being a good brother and sister to each other.'" Sheesh, I miss my cue once and he jumps down my throat. Ror couldn't handle the mushy stuff, but he tried: "MOM! I love ya! Gimme your chicken!"
Well, it's past nine, and I'm BEAT. Such is the life of the lumbering pregnant woman. Check back tomorrow night on the photo site for what I'm sure will be another hilarious watch-me-grow photo depicting how much ice cream I've really been eating.
P.S.-- five hundred views of this little site as of today!
First of all, thank you to all of our friends and family who are as interested in our kids as we are. This site hasn't even been up for two weeks and we have over 350 views. And thanks for all the emails about the articles and encouragement to keep writing.
So we think Ror is just nuts; there's no nice way of putting it. We thought he had an active imagination, but now we're starting to believe that he really sometimes believes he's Spiderman! Today I kept saying, "How old are you?" "I'm Spiderman." "You are my Rory-boy. How old are you?" "I'm NOT RORY! I'm Spiderman!" "Good pretending! But you are REALLY my Rory-boy." "No, I'm Hero-city-let's-go."
(Hero-city-let's-go refers to a DVD and play set that Katie bought them; the theme song to the show goes, "Hero City, Let's Go! Hero City, Let's Go! You be the hero..." But Ror uses the theme song as the title for the characters and the toys themselves. It's pretty funny when a police car or fire truck goes by, and we're in the van and Ror could be on the brink of sleep, but if he hears a siren he bolts upright and shouts, "HERO CITY LET'S GO!")
But anyway, back to my story. So then he was Hero-City-Let's-Go. Until I made the mistake of saying to Riley Kate while I was carrying her to bed, "Who's Mommy's little baby? Who's Mommy's baby?" Ror ran behind me screaming, "RORY BOY IS MOMMY'S BABY! RORY BOY!" So I put her to bed and then held him in a "baby" position and said, "You're Mommy's special baby." "I'm NOT a BABY! I'm RORY!" "Okay, Rory. You're a big boy." "I'm SPIDERMAN!" It never ends. He's having an identity crisis at age two.
Connor's having a rough time waiting for all the big things that are coming-- kindergarten, Disney, new baby, in that order. The curriculum hasn't even arrived yet, so we couldn't start early even if we wanted to. He had a rough day today; alot of civil disobedience in protest of the general unfairness of his life.
Riley Kate's hair is able to be put in a pony tail, the big high point of my day! She walked around saying, "Pretty-pretty! Pretty-pretty!" and everyone fawned over her. She sat down with Ror in the playroom during the afternoon and played trains with him, acting like such a big girl-- I almost cried! Then when I was changing her diaper, she pointed to her tummy and said, "Baby!" I asked, "Do you have a baby in your tummy like Mommy?" She gave a big smile and repeated, "BABY!" So sweet.
I've been getting the requisite emails from comrades and relatives alike, demanding to know baby's name. I gave one person a clue, so obscure that I was sure she'd never guess, but she gave three guesses and hit the nail on the head. We've also been getting lots of suggestions, which we will be sure to record in the baby book-- we love remembering what people have suggested we name the kids! My grandfather has a simpler method: he gives no advice on what to name any of the kids; just calls them by whatever he feels they should have been named. He felt that Connor Ryan should have been named Ryan Connor, so he called him Ryan Connor for a few years until he felt more comfortable with Connor. With Rory, it was just more like, "Hullo, little boy! Tess, what the hell is his name again? Wory? Rosary? What? Oh, oh, Rory. Okay, I'll remember now....Colleen, didn't you ever think of naming him Christopher Robert? Hullo, little Christopher Robert! Oh, that would have been a good name! Wait a minute, Tess, what was his name again? Spell it out... What kind of a name is that?" Trying to get him to learn Riley-Katharine Regina, forget it. "Hullo, little Haley! Heidi! No, that's Missy's kid. Colleen, what's her name again? Oh yes, Katharine....No, what is it?... WHAT?... Why did you give her so many names?... Hullo, little Katharine Riley!" I can be very sure he'll remember the MIDDLE name this time around, but I'm sure Baby Girl Elio's first name will distress him even more than Riley. If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times: December can't come quickly enough!
It's like a rite of passage for the Mom of a girl. I put Riley Kate's hair in a ponytail to see if it would stay, and I was so excited! Check out the photos via the link at right.
We had a very enlightening and hilarious moment tonight with Connor. Since birth, some of Connor's toes are webbed together. There is no real "extra" skin between them like what you'd typically imagine "webbed feet" look like-- his toes are just literally conjoined-- he can't spread them out at all, those that are stuck together. So we discovered this when he was about three weeks old. Don't ask me how we missed this for the first three weeks of his life; I think we were just so awed at the fact that we had a baby that we didn't bother to check the extremities for deformity. Or it could have been the fact that the screams coming from one end distracted us from the webbed toes at the other. In any case, we were pretty shocked when we discovered it and immediately flew to the pediatrician's office to find out when reconstructive surgery would commence. The pediatrician seemed pretty fascinated with it and even called his colleague in to see Connor's phalangical anomaly (how do you like that phrase? I made it up myself). He assured us that surgery was not necessary. Looking at my horror-stricken face, the pediatrician wisely decided to appeal to our already budding sense that our offspring was superior-- he suggested that maybe the webbed toes were an evolutionary leap. "You know, there's no reason for anyone to have five toes; we only use the big toe and the pinky toe for balance; maybe Connor's evolving more quickly than other people." We bought that hook, line and sinker.
As the years have passed since his birth, we've never pointed his toes out to him. Strange, given that we're the type of parents who discuss anything in detail-- Connor can give you the rundown on the cultural and hygienic debate that led him to be circumcised and his brother to be left intact. But for some reason, we would only discuss "the toes" outside of his presence. We're such goofballs.
So tonight, I thought I'd gently nudge him toward noticing-- no use, I figured, waiting for him to be 16 and considering a career as a foot model before making the realization that his feet are different. So Chris, Connor and I were lying in our bed, reading Connor a story before he went to his own bed, and I said, "Look at all of our feet in a line... all alike, right?" Connor looked at me as though HE felt that he needed to explain something to ME. He slowly said to me, "Mommy, my toes are stuck together. They don't look like yours." Very matter-of-fact. He added, "I'm very special." I almost fell of the bed, laughing. No use worrying about this kid.
It's amazing how the father of a particularly enterprising toddler can anticipate any common object's use as a potentially injurious hazard in the home. Chris went somewhere today and came home with a security badge he'd had to wear-- the kind with a metal clamp that you clip to your shirt and the tag you wear designates that you're permitted to be there. When he arrived home, he tossed it on the curio cabinet just inside our front door. Later he and our teaching assistant went out to run an errand. When he returned, the following conversation ensued:
Colleen: Hey, guess what happened to Ror! You know that badge thing?
Chris: Did he clip it to his tongue?
Colleen [shocked]: HOW did you KNOW that???
Chris: Because when I got it, I looked at it and thought, Ror would definitely want to clip this to his tongue. Sorry, I forgot to put it somewhere safer.
I was so shocked that he could get inside Ror's strange little mind and guess what he'd use the clip for.
Later, Ror, with a huge flourish, said to Nicole (our teaching assistant), "Nicole! I got a surprise for you!" Nicole was flattered... until Ror produced an old t-shirt of one of the teenagers that he had found balled up behind the couch. "You gotta wear it! It's for you! I got this for you!" He's such a giver, that kid.
Connor spent the day trying to teach Riley-Kate new words and trying to convince me that "the plants are high-- that means it's kindergarten time. Let's get started." I assume that someone must have told him that kindergarten starts when it's time to harvest the garden, but he couldn't elaborate further, just pointed to the garden as though it were proof enough in itself that I had indeed forgotten the first day of school. At least we know he's an eager student.
Riley Katie took great pains today to be sure that she received at least double the attention that anyone else received, attempting to knock her brothers over any time they began beating a path toward me. She would then grab onto my knees and try to pull me down, saying, "Baby... ahhh, ahhh, ahhh...." She has this new bizarre little routine where she wants me to hold her like she's a tiny baby and sing "rock a bye baby" while she sings along. She doesn't say the words, just, "Raaaaah, aaaaahhh, aaahhh, raaaah..." Then Ror yells, "I be the baby now!" and if I try to put her down to hold him, she tries to pinch him. So today she figured she'd just head anyone off at the pass if they tried to cut into what could be valuable rocking and aaahhh-ing time.
They all really relish the "baby game," and I can't say I mind it, myself. Whomever is playing the part of the baby lets me hold him or her and rock and sing, and then they pretend to be saying their first word-- "Mama!" Then I say, "OOOOHHH, My Baby said MAMA! What a good, smart baby! Oh, I'm so happy that my baby said MAMA!" And the other two look on and cheer. It's very exciting because I imagine that they'll behave similarly when little Wilhelmina (just kidding) arrives and later says HER first word. Connor and Ror gamely cheered on Riley-Kate as she learned to speak, and it's so exciting to Chris and I to know that now one more little face will be watching and applauding as the newest little Elio achieves all the big Firsts. Ack, December seems so FAR AWAY!
Speaking of little Gertrude (how do you like these names we're trying out? LOL ), she is kicking more than any of her predecessors! Connor got to feel it the other day while he was shouting into my belly button ("HELLO IN THERE BABY SISTER!"), and he was mighty surprised. Ror keeps trying to "trick" her into coming out-- "Merry Christmas! Come out, baby!" This is going to be the longest autumn of these poor kids' lives! Anyway, it's entertaining to watch my tummy move and jiggle more than it ever has before, and it's especially fun to share that with the kids.
It's 12:30 in the afternoon and I'm still not totally awake-- we spent yesterday at Six Flags Great Adventure and I am BEAT!
Connor and Ror had a BLAST. We didn't know that there were little mini water parks throughout the place for little kids, so we didn't bring bathing suits, but it didn't stop them. There are also tons of kiddie rides and no wait, so Ror rode everything five times. Chris took Connor and Riley Kate to the little water park thing while Katie and I watched Ror on the little lady bug cars, and he was SO humiliated by our immature behavior. Every time he passed by we'd scream, "ROR! Woo-HOO! YAY!" And he would actually ROLL HIS EYES at us and look the other way! I've never seen a two year old look embarassed before! Riley Kate had the most fun at the Acme Seaport Fun Factory, which is a huge building filled with tiny foam balls and all sorts of contraptions to launch and spill them. We spent almost an hour and a half in there, just watching the kids run around and have fun. Connor was able to climb all the way to the top of a net structure that had about six levels. Ror spent most of the time just thrilling at the fact that he was allowed to throw balls at whomever he wished, and did so about 900 times.
On the way home Connor called from the back seat, "Mommy? I have to tell you, I'm SO sorry that I did this to you when we were eating-- [makes sound of blowing raspberries]. I'm really sorry I did that." I had forgotten that he had even done it, and the poor kid sounded so guilt ridden! Guilt ridden OR frightened at the realization that the following day was screen day and he was less than twelve hours from the Promised Land, and wanted to be sure he had no obstacles to earning privileges.
We arrived home WAAAY after bedtime but decided to pick up something to eat and play with Ror and Connor (Riley Kate was sleeping long before we got home), and they made us laugh so hard, I almost lost my dinner. Ror did a very dramatic interpretation of a Jedi losing his light saber, then was too injured to reach it. Connor offered commentary and corrected me on all of my false assumptions about He-Man and his role in the kingdom of Eternia. Well, we've got a busy day ahead of us, of lying around and recovering from a fun but very draining trip!
I should be posting pictures of Six Flags to the photo site sometime tonight or tomorrow morning.
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