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The Weekend in Crappy Pics – Disney 2014 (part 1)

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We just returned from a fun and EXHAUSTING week at Disney World, and I have a ton of crappy pics to share with you…but just not today, I was up ALL night with Ana. Blah. Unfortunately, along with her new stuffed animals, t-shirts, and Mickey ears, Ana flew home from Florida with a sad little fever. The entire flight was spent with me silently pleading with her to not tell surrounding passengers about both her fever and that her favorite place to visit was Africa (in Epcot). “Just pick one to talk about. Not both.”

Anyway, before I attempt to nap, I thought I’d share at least one pic, our very first pic in Disney. It sets the “crappy” bar pretty high.

photo 1 (13)

To truly appreciate the level of crappiness happening here, let’s break this photo down by asking a few composition related questions:

Is there a trash and/or sewage element incorporated into the picture’s focal point?

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Yes there is. Both, in fact!

Does the background contain a random person inexplicably laying on the asphalt?

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Why, yes it does. And it appears she’s receiving a back massage because why not? We’re in America.

Does the subject(s) appear to have the exact opposite of a relaxed and natural stance?

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I’d say so. I can’t imagine it gets more rigid than this.

And finally, does the subject’s expression make you ask “WTF? Is he passing a Lego?”

disney 5It does…it certainly does.

Read Disney- Part 2 here

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Did you get your BAD ASS t-shirt from  Imagination T’s yet? Get it today!

back mommy

The Weekend in Crappy Pics: Football and Birthdays

The Weekend in Crappy Pics!

 

Friday night, I took Collin to his football practice, but I couldn’t tell you how he did because I spent the entire two hours wondering who our Jesse Pinkman was texting and if there was meth in that backpack.

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On Saturday, Brian had a cigar event starting a noon,

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which meant I had to take Collin to his football game….with Ana. Can I just say that even with the helmet, shoulder pads, water bottle, cleats, etc., Collin requires waaay less shit for a football game than Ana.

Here, I’ve taken the liberty of emptying her “game bag” for you:

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After plopping down her pink princess chair, she got to work displaying her goods in an attempt to capture potential playmates, not unlike the clever alligator snapping turtle who uses its worm-shaped tongue to lure unsuspecting prey.

Collin’s game ending up being a deee-saster, with his team losing 21-6. The other team was all business…all brutal business.

At one point, five players were sitting on the bench with injuries.

football bench

After football, we drove to the area’s largest indoor Farmer’s Market to shop and grab some lunch.

We weren’t in the building 5 minutes when I saw something so horrific that it caused me to simultaneously clutch my chest and shit my pants….Ana was about to enter a ceramics shop!

Wanting to stop her, but realizing that my typical “DON’T DO IT!” might startle her, making the shelves to go down like dominoes, I quickly adopted an approach one might use to talk a would-be jumper down from the Brooklyn Bridge.

Me: (in a sing-songy voice) Oh, Ana, You don’t want to go in there, it’s so dusty.

Ana: Yes I do.

Me: Well, how’s about we first take a picture of you in front of the beautiful ceramics?

Ana: Ok. Then we go in?

Me: Of course we do, silly!

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Me: Ok, now move a little to your left…a little more…one more step…GRAB HER, COLLIN!

 

On Sunday, I dropped Ana off at birthday party over at my friend’s house. I would have stayed, but the forethought she put into the adorable DIY decorations and activities was making me extremely nauseous. So I left and had sushi while Ana designed a 100% certified organic cotton tie-dye t-shirt and created a modernistic painting on canvas depicting the evolution of idealistic love existing within the vacuum of the My Little Pony social hierarchy.

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After the party, I took her fishing…fishing for compliments. She showed that painting off in every store we went into:

the wine store (sounds classier than “liquor store”)

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the craft store (this is where she expected the compliments to really fly)

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and Staples, where the cashier failed to recognize the not-so-subtle way she was waving the painting around, forcing her to throw it on the conveyor belt and ask, “Do you like it?” She was disgusted by his ignorance, but took the compliment anyway.

How was your weekend?

Weekend in Crappy Pics: Labor Day at the Beach

 

You guys, I’m not exaggerating when I say that the ride to the beach was a disaster! Without going into too much detail (because certain family members would AND SHOULD be embarrassed by their behavior), let’s just say that it started with Ana screaming, escalated to others screaming, tapered off with a lot of crying, and ended with a mass silent treatment- everybody not talking to ANYBODY.

LET THE VACATION BEGIN!

Here are a few highlights:

Miniature Golf

Miniature golf began like every other fun-filled family activity, with smiles and good intentions.

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Then, like every other fun-filled family activity, it quickly unraveled …

ana golf mad

It could have been her ball was the wrong shade of pink, or that I opened her water bottle even though she’s “…A KINDERGARTNER NOW AND NOT A BABY!”  I can’t remember, I just know that we decided to ignore her, hoping she’d get out of her funk.

It was somewhere around hole #12 that I no longer sensed her intense anger trying to ignite my body with the heat of a thousand suns. In fact, I felt nothing but a cool breeze- and that’s how I knew she was gone.

Panicked, we quickly spread out in a familiar and often executed Search & Rescue Arc Formation, sweeping the perimeter and conducting a thorough search as we returned to home base.

At  approximately 1:07 pm, she was found in a roped off area, sitting on a mushroom and contemplating her awful, unfair life.

ana on a mushroom

Lunch Date

My mother-in-law was kind enough to take the kids to the pool so Brian and I could go on a romantic lunch date….apparently with this lady.

lady reading

OMG! The moment we were seated, this lady turns towards me, leans into our table likes she’s about to tell me a secret, and starts reading a book! ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I’d rather hear the secret.

At one point, our table cloth interfered with her pages.

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Do these things happen to other people or do I unknowingly cast some kind of crazy net?

Tennis

Brian’s mom had a tennis date with 2 other players and Brian offered to play as the 4th. He then proceeded to talk smack to his 70 year old competitors, throwing comments like “I’m going to run circles around you!” and “Bring it on, old man!”  His competitiveness has no limits…or tact.

Not so secretly, I was hoping they’d kick his ass, proving that you can’t judge a book by its cover and that age is just a number and all that crap. Unfortunately, he was terrific.

Brian tennis

The Bay

We decided to forgo the Labor Day beach crowd and drove to the bay.

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“Hey, this place is great! Why don’t we come here more often? Wait, what’s that smell?”

If you look behind Brian, you’ll notice a pile of dead and decaying horseshoe crabs who had washed on the shore to mate…then die.

Prehistoric ‘sex on the beach”

horseshoe crabs

Funland on the boardwalk

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The blur of this picture captures the way Funland makes me feel- chaotically crazed. In fact, I picture Hell as one long carnival ride line, teenagers pushing and shoving while little kids lick rusty railings and drip ice cream on my feet.

But then I look at this face and think “It’s all worth it.”

photo 2 (2)…and then I step in vomit.

On The Way Home

Someone mentioned the word “nuts”, someone else thought they said “donuts”, and suddenly we were using the gps to track down the best donut shops in Dover, Delaware- thus, the 2014 “Fatty Detour” was born.

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*Did you know there’s a Dunkin Donuts almost every 2 miles?

A Classy Family Cruises to Bermuda! Part 2

 

If you read my last post, you know that we recently embarked on our first cruise, 7 days from NYC to Bermuda on the Norwegian Breakaway. And you also know that we’ll never ever venture beyond the suburbs again. 

Here we are boarding/embarking/loading/whatever cruise people call it:

 bermuda17

 

As soon as we unpacked, the children did what they do best:

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they watched TV.

Determined to get this party started, we shut the TV off and forced the kids up to the top deck for a little miniature golf action.

First up was Ana. As she swung the putter back like she was teeing off at the Augusta Nationals, Collin decided that this was theeee perfect moment to bend down and survey the slope and grain of the course.

First injury of the trip. Frankly, I was surprised it took that long.

After the crying died down, we were shocked at how quiet it was on deck 15. In fact, other than an elderly couple, we were the only people up there.

“See” I said, “There might be 4,000 people on this boat but it doesn’t feel crowded.” to which Brian replied, “Yeah, and it’s surprisingly quiet. Almost like we’re the only ones outside.”

Turns out we were.

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So the next day, while everyone else was playing Bingo and shuffleboard, we got our fake story straight (we voted on ‘group nausea’, 3:1) then headed to the restaurant for a quaint safety drill.

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He was so annoyed, he refused to make direct eye contact with us.

After experiencing nautical humiliation, we went to the pool and relaxed…until Ana slipped and hit her head.  Luckily, it wasn’t serious. But unfortunately, like a form of bad onboard entertainment, she went on to repeat this performance at various pool locations throughout the trip. “I’m here all week, folks!”

Our cabin was quite lovely. Small, but lovely. It helped that we had a huge balcony:

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Not having a balcony would’ve been like driving cross-country while sitting in the backseat between my kids while they wrestled. Yes, without the balcony, someone would have been “accidentally” left behind in Bermuda.

 

Ana loved the bunk bed which lowered from the ceiling. Collin, who slept underneath, grew to hate it.

Fourteen. It seems that 14 is the number of times a 10 year will stand up, hitting their head on the underside of a bunk bed, before the thought “hey, I better not stand up because there’s something above me” becomes second nature.

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Each night, our cabin steward, Cornelious, would leave us an adorable, yet slightly ambiguous, towel animal on our bed. And every night the children would scream and argue over what kind of animal Cornelious had intended to make. One night, on our way back to the room, they started on the towel animals again,

Me: LISTEN TO ME! WHEN WE GET INTO THAT ROOM, I DON’T WANT TO HEAR ONE SINGLE WORD ABOUT TONIGHT’S TOWEL ANIMAL! 

Them: —–

And there it was…

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 the literal and figurative ‘elephant in the room’.

 

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to be continued…

Last cruise post. Spoiler: we eventually make it to Bermuda and back.

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