Hooray!  Christmas break is finally here!  I’ve been counting down the days.  I’ve been so busy with work that I haven’t been able to post as much as I’d like to, but I’ve changed things around a little here.  You can now subscribe to the blog so that whenever I post, you’ll get a notification, and look!  It’s snowing! 

I know the last thing I posted about was the cruise, and after that last day at sea, we pretty much woke up and walked off the ship…back to reality.  Looking back, it was great and yes, I’d do it again.  However, I’d have to be certain of internet connection amenities.  You see, I’ve started an enterprise of sorts.  I know what you’re thinking.  “How does she have time to start an ‘enterprise’ and what ’sort’ of enterprise could it be?  Well, when a business promises to yield handsome results, you make the time.  

Ok, maybe there were no promises.  Maybe I have no idea what the attraction to this ‘business’ is.  Maybe, I’m ashamed to admit it.  I’ve fallen victim to Farmville. 

 

Stop rolling your eyes, you know you’re jealous that you don’t have a harvest table surrounded by Santa’s finest in your front yard.  And yes, the children are fed and clean…at least most of the time.  As for sleep; totally overrated.   Ok, I don’t know how I allowed myself to go so far with this silliness.  I do, however, know who to thank for opening the door (in this case, gate) and I’m sure she’ll be hiding her face in shame (or giggles) when she reads this.  But, I’ll say this.  I’m not the only idiot that has spent countless clicks harvesting, sharing wealth, petting and moving cattle around.  It seems this Farm crap is pretty popular.  Why?  Why do people get up early or stay up all night to check on their ‘farm’?  Are we that bored?  Do we really need another tool for procrastination?(You know you put off doing the dishes to save the poinsettias).   I’m going to chalk it up to me being starved for adult time, and being on the farm offers me my fill, even if it is in the form of traveling to other farms to fertilize other crops.  Maybe, I’m making excuses like every good addict does.  Still, I bet most of you reading this are aspiring for that million dollar ‘Villa” to sit right next to your cemetary.  (In case you didn’t know, tombstones were available as special decorations during the Halloween season…I decided to keep mine up and running. )  

So, what level are you at? 

Here's farmville enriching someone's creativity! Go Farmville!

Day five started out, well…who am I trying to kid.  I can barely remember what I had for dinner yesterday, let alone a day at sea 8 weeks ago. 

I know it’s taken me forever to post, but I’ve been sorta busy with a little agricultural endeavor these days.  But this new ‘business’ deserves it’s own post, so let’s not go there right now.

Ok, if my memory serves me right, day five was actually pretty good.  By this time, I had recovered from the vomit-fest of the previous day, and the shipboard itinerary I keep talking about is finally visable to the blind travelers.  Guess what else we noticed?  Apparently, being a guest of the ship’s master suite entitles you to a special ‘off-limits to regular guests’ club house which offers continental breakfast every morning, and complimentary bar and hors d’oeuvres for happy hour.  To get into the clubhouse, you had to use a special key card.  This magical key card had been sitting comfy cozy in a leather bound book of some kind in our room, on a coffee table.  Fine time to figure this out, right?

So, we took advantage of what the ship had to offer.  We saw a magic show, visited the club house, watched an ice sculpture demonstration, and some of us became pirates.

Then we got hijacked by the pirates.

Then the pirates dismembered their first mate.

I have to add that this towel sculpture is the only one I saw on the entire trip.  It’s possible the ‘pirates’ got to them before I did.

I was very much looking forward to Day Four of the cruise because I had planned to escape w/ Auntie Jen and Jacob.  We booked a snorkeling excursion that promised an unforgettable experience at three different reefs.  The BEST part of this trip was the water housing that Auntie Jen had been talking about for at least 3 months prior to the cruise.

 

 

 This contraption my sister owns allows for a video camera to safely go snorkeling with you.  That meant that not only was I spending an almost child-free day snorkeling, but I was going to be able watch the experience over and over again whenever I wanted.  It was going to be my happy place.

We got on the little glass bottom boat and I quickly realized that I had not taken a dramamine pill.  I tried not to dwell on this giant mistake by staring at the horizon line.  Ten minutes into the trip, things are not getting better and our guide started passing out Coronas.  I had to turn it away. 

I made it to reef number one. Jacob, Auntie Jen, Camera and I jumped into the water and began the snorkeling.  The current was so that I felt as though I’d be in Texas in the next five minutes.  So there I am struggling to keep up with the group and thanking God that the nausea was subsiding in the sea.  It was cool, though.  Lots of fish and all of it being filmed.

I made it to reef two, but my condition was deteriorating and the last thing I wanted to do was put something in my mouth.  I was already gagging.  Still, it would be worth it when I was back on the boat enjoying the film we were creating.  It would be funny to see us all struggling against the current.  (Well, maybe not all of us. I’m convinced my sister if half mermaid.)

Reef three found me absolutely green.Staring at the horizon line was not enough to keep my morning capuccino and bagel from staying in my stomach.  According to Aunt Jen, I was very graceful and discrete when I let loose over the side of the ship.  I was tempted to stay on the boat  for the last of the snorkeling, but our guides advised against it.  Anyway, the wretched thing was rocking mercilessly, so I put my mask on and slipped in to the sea.  Then it started to pour.  Between the  snorkel gagging me, the needles pelting my back, and the (insert adjective here) current, this wasn’t at all the excursion I had seen pictured in the brochure.  Still, it would be good to have footage of it all.

Looks like they're having fun, right? Whatever.

After it was said and done, it was a good time.  Daddy had a much different experience on the island with his babies.  Maybe he’ll guest-write about it here.  As for the snorkel adventure video….

That night, Jen and I were watching some comedian perform in one of the ship’s theaters when we decided to check out some of the footage from the day.  We were up in the balcony so no one was being disturbed.  What was disturbing, however, was that we couldn’t find the footage anywhere.  It’s funny how the brain comes to a realization and then once acceptance of the realization is met, it’s funny how the brain goes through the grieving process.  There was lots of rewinding, thinking, examining, nervous laughter, tears from the laughter, and finally an awkward silence. 

Jen had forgotten to press record on the camera.

 

 

 

 

 

Snorkel trip: $50.00 Picture: $10.00 Waterhousing experience: Priceless

 

 

 

 

If this is your first time tuning in, be informed that this is part three of a five-part series all about cruising the caribbean…with kids.  Little, unruly, loveable ones.

So, on day three, our boat docked in the Cayman Islands and we were bewildered. 

Not only were there pirates, but there were people.  Tons of them.  And every single one of them wanted our money.  I really felt like I was a character in a video game that might be called, “Clueless Tourist Attack” where the object of the game is to avoid all the hecklers, wheelers, and dealers and find the one heckler that’s not out to break your bank.  I’m not kidding when I tell you that they were everywhere, but I think the funniest part was the fact that not a one of us knew what exactly we were going to do on this island.  So there we were, wandering around the port, continually counting heads and herding eachother back to the group, trying to get past these people.  We finally made it out of the immediate area and took refuge in a gift shop where we took a bunch of pictures with pirate statues.

Fun and games with Grandma and the Pirates

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’d have more pictures, but I sorta abandoned picture taking because my self-taught photographer sister was with us.  I’ll share those pics at a later time…they are amazing.

 

So, anyway, after browsing the shop for an hour, losing my husband for half of an hour, and trying to get a group shot photo, we found a taxi bus to drive us to a beach for a reasonable price.  It’s a good thing my dad’s middle name is ‘negotiator’.  We’d have been broke.

 

The beach was amazing, even though we had no towels.   Who would have thought to bring towels from the boat?  Certainly not the people who still have not noticed that shipboard itineraries are being delivered to their rooms every night.  Towels or not, the beach was a blast, until poor Maggie spiked a fever.  My poor girl was burning up and my guilt for being so angry with her two day tantrum was also on the rise.  But we cannot dwell on misjudged parenting decisions.  I sat with my little one until the taxi bus came back for us, and once we got on the boat, we just chilled out in our rooms.  The kids were starting to adjust to life at sea, and so were we.  And on the next day, I was breaking away from the clan to snorkel with Jacob, photography sister and a very cool underwater video camera housing device.  Cozumel, here we come!

Soldier Down

Welcome to our second installment of the Rico/Ferreira/Testa Cruise Extravaganza.  The memories are sailing away from me fast so I better get to it.  (pun intended)

Day two of our cruise vacation was spent at sea, but like I mentioned on my previous post, we were so overwhelmed by the immensity of the ship and our rooms that we did not notice the itinerary that laid ever so silently next to the daily supply of chocolate covered strawberries.  This itinerary outlined the numerous activities going on from day break to way late, but thanks to our ignorance, we missed most of it. 

We did however, know that there was some kind of Captains Dinner going on.  I mean, don’t all cruise ships have this?  Hadn’t I seen this on TV before?  And don’t people go all out for this occasion?  We’re talking prom here, aren’t we?  So as our dinner hour arrived (our’s was set for 6pm everynight, and if you’re not familiar with cruising, you can choose to have a set dinner time), there was a frenzy to get ready for it in both Rico/Ferreira/Testa Estates, I mean state rooms.  I had packed a couple of dresses that I never wear so I was choosing between the two when the phone rang.  “This is a formal night, right?” came the voice on the other end.  “You’re asking me?  I keep getting lost between pool and room!”  was my reply.  So now I’m getting nervous because I do not want to walk into some crowded restaurant looking like I’m playing dressup.   Meanwhile, just beneath the phone is the itinerary that clearly says:  Captains Dinner:  Formal Attire.  We don’t see this for another two days.

In the meantime, the children had been dropped off at the Magical Place I was talking about earlier, the one where they want you to drop them off so that they can struggle, I mean have fun with them and keep them entertained.  I welcomed this shipboard feature, especially since one of my ‘angels’ had been pretty miserable from the minute we got on the boat.  The day before there was a tantrum over what bathing suit she was going to wear, a tantrum which continued to have aftershocks on day two. 

So I pull out some sort of nice clothes for the kids(it’s not like my kids are going to fancy balls every week), pull out my fancy clothes and rush out to pick them up.  I do notice some people walking around in beaded gowns so I’m ok with dressing up at this point.  The children however, are another story.  We get back to the state room and the misery begins.  “I DON’T WANT TO WEAR THAT!”  followed by “I WANT THE MARKERS!” and “I DON’T WANT TO GO.”   This last request was not an option since I missed our assigned dinner in the restaurant the night before.  Had to settle for late night buffet, what an outrage.  In the end there was me in my long red gown, Daddy in his polo, (he didn’t get the memo that said pack dressy clothes), Logan in a Hawaiin print, Tess in a bright pink barbie sweater with leapard print collars, Jacob in a button down, and Maggie in leggings, a blue Tshirt and a river of tears.  Thank goodness the restraunt was noisy so not too many people noticed the wailing and gnashing of teeth coming from beneath our table.  Our waiter, Ravi, was probably the only one who noticed.  And this is because he was puzzled when I ordered an extra kid’s cheeseburger.  I had to show him who it was for because she refused to sit in a chair. 

 

So, long story short, the Captain’s Dinner was not the elegant, decked out party I’d envisioned.  It was pretty much my regular dinner-tantrum-bedtime routine with the exception of me wearing a prom dress.  At least daddy took the wee beastie up to the state room and I was left to enjoy some coffee, desert, and a little John Nash.  Until next time…

About 7 or 8 months ago my dad announced that we would be taking a family-wide trip together…aboard a luxurious cruise ship… on him.   After I asked if I could borrow a quarter of his lottery winnings, he explained that he was using his decade-long accumulation of American Express Reward Points to fit the bill.  Pretty awesome.  I have to admit, I didn’t really believe it at first, and since I’d never been on a cruise, I wasn’t terribly excited, especially since the dates were set for September.  That meant I had to take four days off from work.  Call me crazy, but I don’t really like taking time off from work unless I absolutely have to.  Maybe it’s because I get ten consecutive weeks off every year, I don’t know.

The Enchantment of the Seas

As our sail date grew closer, and I started believing that the trip was actually going to happen, I mentioned to the little ones that we would soon be going on a giant boat.  This sounded very appealing to them, especially when I added that we would be going to Mexico.  (Don’t ask me why.) So for about a week or two, all I would hear at 6:30 am as I’m struggling to get kids out of bed and ready for school was, “NO, I DON’T WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL…I WANT TO GO TO MEXICO!”  And whenever a child would become unruly, or leprechaunish, I would threaten with, “I guess you’re not going to Mexico.”  This, of course, was a foolish threat as we all know leaving anyone behind would be impossible.  Wishful, but impossible.  (just kidding…sort of)

Sail date finally arrived and all 16 of us grabbed our bags and headed for the Port Everglades Warehouse, where ships are stored and customs agents are busily checking passports and faces.  After breathing a sigh of relief because Royal Carribean Personnel failed to notice that  Maggie’s passport name did not match her boat ticket name (let’s hope it works in Mexico…yikes), we headed for our group picture in front of the majestic vessel of the sea.  You’ve seen them before, happy couples and/or families standing on the plank, I mean boarding ramp, with a perfect sunset as their backdrop, all looking happy and ready to set sail.  I always thought this picture was actually taken in front of the ship.  Turns out it’s taken in front of a picture of a ship with a perfect sunset in the background.  We were not on any plank, we were in a warehouse surrounded by tired old customs agents, one overly excited photographer, and an already reluctant pack of wild dogs, I mean children. 

I regret to say that I do not have a copy of this picture.  We can thank procrastination for that.  Maybe Royal Caribbean has a file somewhere.

So we get on board, pile into an elevator, find our state rooms, and proceed to take part in the fire drill.  Since I’ve never been on a cruise, I was sort of fascinated by the whole thing.  We didn’t have to wear life vests, (apparently you usually do) and on the captain’s command, we were herded to our ‘muster station’.  This is the place we are supposed to calmly approach in the ‘unlikely’ event of an emergency.  Well, in this case, my 81-year-old granny was accidentally left behind to approach the area on her own.  (She speaks no English by the way)

After the Titanic Drill, we decided to explore the state rooms.  I’m almost embarrassed to describe them.  We’re talking guilty luxury here.  We had two rooms to share between the 16 of us, and each room had a master bedroom, regular room (4 beds; bunk beds), a living room w/ a pull out couch, and (get this) a deck that wrapped around the end of the boat!!!  SICK!  I was feeling a little bit like Rose Dewitt Bukater minus Leonardo.  I was also overwhelmed.  So overwhelmed that we pretty much missed the fact that there is a continuous flow of scheduled activities going on ship-wide.  This realization didn’t come until Day 3 or so.  We did, however, know about the magical place called “Adventure Ocean” in which children may be dropped off and picked up at different times of the day.  This, my friends, is something that I had researched ahead of time.   The following video is of the kids in their room.  At night, two more beds magically appeard above the ones you see in the video.

And so after walking around dazed, dealing with a nasty tantrum, cooling off in the pool, missing the formal dinner thanks to my brats, I mean children, and eating chocolate covered strawberries for dinner, we all passed out in our disgustingly lavish state rooms.  But before I closed my eyes, I slipped out on the deck, and under the starry night, I thanked God for putting me there. 

Stay tuned for Day 2: The Captain’s Dinner Meltdown

First of all, I’m not pregnant, so stop feeling scandalized.

Second of all, I can’t believe how popular this zombie thing is.  Went to Barnes and Noble today and there was an entire section devoted to the undead.  From a Zombie for Dummies-type book to Jane Austin’s Pride, Prejudice, and Zombies, there are all kinds of resources for the newly infected.  Being the in charge of the yearbook for my school this year, I’m wondering if we should go with a zombie theme.   I can see opening spread now:  Walking Dead Stagger to Period One.  Not sure how that would go over with our new principal.  At least I know what hubby is getting for christmas.

Anyway, back to the main story.  It seems we do have a new family member, but until about a week ago, I had yet to meet this one in person.  I had, however, seen his wrath.

Um, you missed the paper...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 I first heard about this guy over the summer.  A friend of mine was having a conversation (if you want to call it that) with Logan about his room.  Logan was rambling about a series of mishaps that had befallen him, like how his room was a mess, and there were broken things everywhere, and lost ‘Baby Einsteins’.  My friend was intrigued and asked, “Who did this to you?”  His sincere reply, “The Leprechaun.”

 

Ever since this day back in June, (not March because that would make sense), Mr. Leprechaun is the reason for all the mishap that befalls our house.  If the children have mysterious markings all over their bodies (made with markers or paint) it was the Leprechaun.  If there are books all over the floor as opposed to the book shelf, it was the Leprechaun.  This guy even had the nerve to fill my bathroom sink up with baby wipes to see if they could swim!

 

He did it again mom!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Well, I had my suspicions as to who this Leprechaun really was, and last week my suspicions were confirmed.  We were in the middle of the nightly homework-dinner-bathtime-tantrum-bedtime routine when amidst the chaos I see a blur of white racing around the dinner table.  Finally the blur stopped and there’s our dinner table surrounded by three or

yeah, I thought so...

four layers of toilet paper.  “Who did this!”  I screamed.  The mischievous reply, “It was me, Logan…The Leprechaun!”

A couple of weeks ago, my hubby asked, “Do you think we could go see a movie?”  He was all a flutter over some District Something film that’s just come out.  I have a hard time keeping up with new movies unless they are made by Pixar or some other cartoonish people.  So I put down the dinner dishes and called my neighbors (who happen to be my parents) to see if I could enlist them to watch the troops while hubby and I enjoyed some popcorn and a flick.  No dice.

We’re used to this kind of disappointment.  Afterall, would you want to spend your Friday night wrestling with four ‘angels’?  And in my head, I was secretly muttering, “probably some other run from the zombie movie anyway, can’t remember the last girly flick he suggested, it’s always about the zombie…” while I quietly continued washing dishes.

So, hubby just shrugged and we decided to make it a Blockbuster Night. 

It’s important to note here that hubby and I have conflicting tastes in movies.  As per my earlier mutterings, you might already know that there is strong leaning towards everything zombie on one side while the other side is not crazy about the zombie concept at all.  Don’t get me wrong.  I’m all for the scary movie, in fact as a teen, I used to swallow up Steven King books, and I was all into the 80’s monsters…you know, Freddy, Jason, Michael.  But for the most part, all these scary movies had some sort of ‘everything’s going to be all right’ ending.  There was hope.  Not with the zombie.  I’ve sat w/ my beloved for a number of hopeless zombie type movies searching and analyzing, hoping to see a happy ending, but no.  Not with the zombies.  My beloved on the other hand can’t get enough of it.  Get this…He wants to get an app for his phone that involves some GPS thing and the phone owner actually running in the streets while the phone tells you where to turn lest you run into the walking dead.  Example follows, thanks to youtube and some random people:

 

So, while I’m getting the kiddies in bed, I’m wondering which hopeless movie he’ll be showing up with and he walks in with The Curious Case of Benjamin Buttons!  I did a double take too.  Brad Pitt?  Benjamin Buttons?  Last I checked, Brad Pitt did not normally star in in walking dead movies so it’s safe to say I was surprised.  ”Wow,” I said taking the dvd in my hands, “What made you pick this?”    ”I was curious,” he replied.  

He also had another movie called Blindness but Benjamin overshadowed Blindness and I didn’t even ask what it was about. 

So now the kids are in bed, the popcorn’s popping, dishes are done and he asks, “Which one you wanna watch?”  I, still in shock over Benjamin, reply that I don’t care.  So Blindness it is and we settle down on the couch for our Blockbuster night. 

The movie begins with a Japanese man driving around some busy daytime, downtown city.  He’s at a red light, the light turns green, and he’s not moving.  After lots of honking and a little chaos it turns out he’s gone blind.  Some random guy helps him out, takes him home, and waits until the wife arrives, at which point random guy leaves, stealing Japanese guy’s car.  The next day, wife takes Japanese guy to the eye doctor who can’t find anything wrong with him.  Next they go to the hospital where they can’t find anything wrong with him.  The movie then cuts to a scene of Random Helper Thief Guy who is now freaking out in his new stolen car because he’s gone blind.  (Do you see where this is going?)  Next we see the eye doctor wake up next to his wife and guess what…he’s gone blind too.  So have the people that were in his waiting room…and the people in the hospital.  Does this sound like zombEYE infestation to you?  It does to me.  It gets worse. 

So the government ’sees’ that there is a problem here and the newly blinded are quarantined into some concentration camp-like place and left to fend for themselves.  Long story short…the movie focuses on Eye Doctor and his wife who

Good choice hon.

by some miracle never goes blind and after lots misery and death, manages to lead her followers out of the prison only to find a world filled with blind, limping people, chasing the smell of food, much like a zombie chases the smell of brains. 

How I could have let Brad Pitt blind me from inquiring about the content of this movie still baffles me.  You can imagine the list of mutterings that went on as we sat on our couch on that romantic Blockbuster Night.  But, I have to say, the movie does have a happier ending…the blind can finally see and viewers are left to imagine how they will get their world to be right again.  Not too bad.  And I guess I’m all the wiser as to what to do when the dead eye infestation hits the real world.  Thanks hubby, for this education.  I did, afterall, rate 98% on the “Will You Survive a Zombie Infestation” quiz on facebook.  Isn’t that curious?

(To be sung to the catchy 80’s tune, Video Killed the Radio Star.  Sing the title, not the post.)

You know, being a person who is lucky enough to have 10 weeks off every summer, it’s only natural that I create all kinds of illusions of grandeur as to how I will spend such precious time.  Basically, it’s a To Do list that resembles the resolutions we commonly forget by February 1. 

Also, since I have those 10 accomplishment-ridden weeks off, I gladly take the title of ‘Interim Stay-At-Home-Mom.’

So this past June, as I bade farewell to about 120 teenagers, I was anxious to welcome my own little monsters into my Nanny 911 Boot Camp.  My kids are good, don’t get me wrong.  But I cannot boast that we have a 7pm bedtime. Nor can I say that they always say please and thank you.  And forget about cleaning up after themselves, I may as well be living in a college dorm w/ a bunch of guys.  (Only not as fun…did I say that?) Clearly, we had some work to do.

 

Week one went ok.  We got up early, ate breakfast, brushed teeth, and set off for the gym.  Then we’d head over to a cousin’s house, or a friend’s house, or the beach, or the pool.  Hungry tummies gladly accepted their lunch and then we’d go home to our nice and neat home to chill out while mommy prepared dinner.  An absolute dream.  Until it arrived…. Facebook.

Now, I’m not totally against this time sucking wonder site, in fact, like everyone else, I’ve gotten in touch with people that I haven’t seen or heard from in years.  I even figured out that I actually work with someone who I knew about 20 years ago, but didn’t realize I work with today.  And it’s great for keeping up with everyone, you know, important stuff like knowing what everyone’s having for dinner, or who’s watching TV, or walking a dog.  It’s especially great to see who’s on-line at the moment, and then to see that you’ve accumulated over 100 friends in just five days, and what are those friends up to, and how many friends do they have?  Hmm.  It exceeded it’s greatness on the day I realized that you could actually check into each of your friend’s profiles to see what they wrote.  Then I noticed all these fancy ‘flair’ tabs, and ‘bookshelves’, and ‘corkboards’.  Before I knew it, I had one pretty decked out Face on this book, while my kid’s actual faces were smeared with peanut butter which they had for dinner because it was easy and we’re nearing the 11 0′clock hour.  So much for Nanny Bootcamp.

But it wasn’t until the ending of this first week of school that I noticed the degree of neglect to which I blame social networking for.  It’s been pretty rough around here as far as getting the wee ones in bed at a decent hour and I’m not sure I like the looks I get when I sing the ‘cleanup’ song.   It’s safe to say that I didn’t really accomplish all the straightening out I was hoping for, and maybe I did spend a teensy weensy amount more time than I bargained for on this here computer, but hey, we’re all a work in progress, right?

In the meantime, I wonder if that Nanny 911 chick is on Facebook…

Well, I can’t believe it.  Tomorrow, my oldest is going into middle school.  It really feels like just yesterday that I took him by the hand and led him into his very first classroom.  I was struggling with the lump in my throat while he struggled with the stuffing of his backpack into his very own cubby.  Ah how time flies.  And it was not long after that first day of school that I led my then kindergartener down Privet Drive, into number 4, and straight into the life of the infamous Boy Who Lived.  Those were the days.  For those of you who’ve never been to the aforementioned address, and who, consequently, have never travelled by floo powder, I’m talking about my favorite, Harry Potter. 

Did you know that Mary Grandpre, artist responsible for Harry Potter cover art lives in Sarasota, Florida?

 

I don’t know what it is about J.K. Rowling’s series that I love so much.  Most adults I talk to say they just can’t get into it.  Too juvenile.  I couldn’t stop turning the pages.  It took me six whole years to get from start to finish, but I savored every word, every setback, every triumph.  I cherish those nights when I would say to my little one, “Wanna go to Hogwarts?”  And so we’d grab the book, a blanket, and a seat on the couch,  and we may as well have been on that Hogwarts express with our three favorite students.   Laughing at Ron’s ridiculousness, rolling our eyes at Hermione’s righteousness and just flat out hoping with Harry.  Poor kid coudn’t seem to catch a break!  Ahh, but herein lies the very reason why Harry has captured my heart.  You see, it’s not so much that the books are page turners, or that Ms. Rowling is an amazingly creative writer, (which she definitely is), but that through her work, she has given me and my son the opportunity to bond by inviting us into her world.  You always hear that you should read to your kids, that it will make them smarter, give them an edge.  That stuff’s all true.  But it’s more than that.  You’re giving your kids moments and memories that they will keep forever and ever.   Jacob and I fittingly said goodby to our friends at Hogwarts this summer, and I have to say, I was kinda sad.   Maybe it’s because deep down I know my little one is growing up.  Pretty soon there will be new priorities in his life.  New hopes and dreams.   Still, I know he will think back fondly on our trip to Privet Drive.  Who knows, he may take his own kids on the same journey. 

As for me, I’ve got my trunk packed and ready to go back.  After all, Tess is starting kindergarten this year…Hogwarts, here we come!

 

Have a great school year everyone!