Posts Tagged ‘ sesame place ’

Sesame Place

Sunday, August 7th, 2011

Showtime at Sesame Place

Showtime at Sesame Place

I finally broke down and did it. Became that person I never thought I’d be. I took Fia to Sesame Place. I think it may have been the best day of her little life thus far. The crazy thing is, it was one of my best too.

It was swelteringly hot with lots of crowds and crappy food courts. Basically everything I hate about amusement parks.

But seeing the look on her face when she saw Elmo in real life—(to quote the credit card ad) priceless. We were watching one of the many live shows and when he took the stage, her little 19-month-old body jumped up on the bench and started screaming and pointing “Elmo! Elmo!” I just sat there and watched her joy.

It must be how I look and act at a Madonna concert—though Fia’s much cuter in her innocent enthusiasm. And sober.

At another show she was in such a state of awe, she just sat there, jaw open, eyes wide–mesmerized. During the parade she was on my shoulders, pointing and shouting again. Cookie monster came by and high fived her. I debated ever washing her hands again.

Sesame Place Parade

Sesame Place Parade

There are really no words to describe what happens when you become a parent. And what happens when you live life through your children’s eyes.  I get so happy seeing her happy, it makes me physically weak.

I often wonder if men have same physiological reaction that women do when it comes to their kids. I know my husband can’t get enough of Fia. And when she hugs him or laughs at him, I can see him melt. But do they feel it in the same primal way as we do? Or is it different? I’ve asked him, but because he can’t walk in my shoes, he doesn’t know. He just knows he’s head over heels. None of this matters. Love isn’t a contest. I’m just curious if anyone can love her as strongly and deeply as I do.

At any rate, I told Phil he has to take a day off work in the next couple months and go to Sesame Place with us. He has to experience her in this fairytale of amusement park horrors. Then we can both officially become the people we never thought we’d be: Parents.

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Elmo, Babysitters and BlogHer

Thursday, August 4th, 2011

A World Sans Elmo

A WORLD SANS ELMO

I barely put my foot down in San Diego today for the BlogHer Conference when my husband called me. He sounded so serious.

“I think we need a new babysitter.”

My heart tightened. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, but you have something to blog about with sitters again.”

Oh dear lord, not the Sitter Chronicles again, I thought.

“What happened?” I said almost frantic.

“She lost Elmo.”

The world screeched to a stop. I felt dizzy. Saw bright lights. My brain turned fuzzy.

“OH NO!!!!!!!!” I screamed.

“Yep,” he says, “It’s true.”

This is a substitute sitter who we’ve only used once before. My regular sitter had to cancel at the last minute and with me going out of town; I had to scramble to find a replacement. I emailed her a list of stuff to be aware of last night, and one was Fia flinging her shoes off while she’s in the stroller. I’d hate to loose an expensive pair of stride rites. (I left this morning before she came and was completely freaked out about not being there in person to drill everything into her. Namely, no texting while strolling, stay on top of Fia at all times, don’t let her have pacifier during the day…you know the usual control freak issues of moms–or at least this one.)

But because she was so focused on Fia flinging her shoes, she didn’t notice the little red monster being hurled out on the street. She retraced her steps, but was too late. Elmo was gone. G-O-N-E.

I blame Phil. He should have told her not to take her monsters out of the house. This is what happens when mama leaves town. Things go south. Elmo becomes homeless.

As I type, Phil and Fia are on the way to the toy store to buy a replacement Elmo before bedtime (didn’t happen, see picture). Hopefully this is the biggest thing I will worry about while I’m out here for 3 days.  I’d really like to enjoy this conference of entrepreneurial women, maybe learn a thing or two, and sleep in!! So please sitters/husband/and Wayne Sanchez–I’ll even include you–Take care of my baby. And her accoutrements. In the words of our annoying, talking Sesame Street book, “See You Sooooon.”

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