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Rollin' with the Hindus (Part II)

Garba!!!

This was probably the highlight of the weekend for me. We had a blast! It was a big dance party, and the kids really enjoyed themselves. Plus, by Friday evening, lots of the college buddies had arrived in town. So I was partying with my roommates (who were all decked out in subcontinental finery), ate a fantastic meal, and then danced the night away.

We leared garba dancing and dandiya raas (the stick dancing). With the garba, I watched folks do a couple of laps before I felt comfortable taking WB in my arms and joining in... and then once I got my courage up, I spotted a group of five or six young women who were doing intricate variations on the simple pattern, and felt totally confused again. But we managed to keep up, even if we weren't terribly graceful.



I like this shot because it is unidentifying to the people I don't know, but also it shows the sense of circular motion.

The Dandiya Raas was probably my favorite part. DQ dug it, too. Although we did have to eventually confiscate their sticks for fear of sibling skull-cracking.

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WB in his Indian duds. He loved his scarf. But refused to wear it. What he did like to do is play with mine. Indian clothing serves multiple purposes. You can use it to hold onto children (or have them hold onto you), and to entertain them!

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DQ in her finery. I unfortunately didn't get full shots of the kids, so candids have to do.

These shots may come down after a few days.

Rollin' with the Hindus (Part I)

The camera has been recovered (Thanks, V!) and so we can now begin the odyssey that was the wedding of two truly beautiful -- and very organized -- folks.

We arrived in Raleigh-Dyurham on Wednesday evening, after a flight that went better than I dared dream. The Wild Boy fell asleep upon landing in Atlanta, which I thought was going to be disastrous, but it turns out we managed to keep him asleep on my shoulder all through deplaning, getting to our next gate, and awaiting our next connection. So he even got a good hour of sleep. DQ did great. 'Nuff said.

We checked into the hotel and took the kids swimming, which was a great activity for chilling them out and relaxing all of us. I love hotel pools! And WB loves the water.

On Thursday, we had most of the day off from wedding-related hoo-ha. So we chilled in the morning, having brunch at the Cracker Barrel. Mmm... biscuits. Then swimming and nap. Then in the afternoon, we met up with Flyboy and his fiancee (how cool is she?!?) to visit the alma mater.



Can you tell where I went to school? Here's another hint:



Then it was off for a "small, intimate" gathering of the groom's family and close friends (read: dinner for 150. Flyboy kept asking if various functions were "small, or Indian small?") The kids caught lightning bugs and we had a nice chance to catch up. The real fun started the next morning.



The pooja was in the groom's parent's backyard. We had to leave before he got covered in turmeric and stripped to his skivvies, but it was still fun. DQ really enjoyed the various colors and costumes, and especially took a liking to the women who wore bells or other shiny, jangly things on their ankles.

Eight Things About Me

Andy and Elle both tagged me, and while I can get away with ignoring one tag, two is too much. So here goes:

1. Going with Andy's theme of drama history, I played the Tin Man in my sixth grade production of the Wizard of Oz. Perhaps Jade remembers, since yes, I do have someone from my elementary school who reads my blog. (And guys I used to date... at least two of them.) I can't sing to save my life, but I muddled my way through it. That was the end of my drama career.

2. I went through a period of dating Mormons in high school. This was a good strategy for a sexually inactive non-drinker. Although I have to advise people NOT to date slightly disgruntled Mormon guys who are about to leave on their missions. It's like being the religious equivalent of a WWII victory girl.

3. I own Lou Bega's Mambo Number 5 on CD. I don't remember why this seemed like a good idea at the time.

4. When I was in first and second grade, I was so shy that I would cry if I had to read out loud in class. By fourth grade, when I entered the TAG program in my district (where I met Andy, incidentally), I had made a conscious decision that this needed to stop. I took storytelling, drama, and speech classes. Today, I live by public speaking. Guess it worked.

5. I played varsity golf in high school. I was all-district my senior year. Then I gave it up. I haven't played since the summer after my senior year.

6. I can juggle. I used to be able to ride a unicycle, but not anymore.

7. I was one of my class valedictorians, which is kind of a sham, because I got a B in AP physics my senior year, spring semester. But since those grades weren't calculated by the time graduation was planned, it didn't count. I gave a speech.

8. I always figured I wouldn't have children. I never wanted children until I was a senior in college. I guess for me at least it's true that I needed to meet the man I wanted to have children with for me to really want children.

I'm not sure if they've done this yet, and I've been out of the loop a bit, but I'll tag K-lyn, Julie, and Jade.

One Sentence Movie Reviews

The Prestige:

Damn, people, rent this movie!

The Wild:

It's amazing how even in a cheap, mediocre Madagascar ripoff, Eddie Izzard can make me laugh.

Resume Blogging

I'm back. But the camera isn't. so my copious pictures will have to wait.

The wedding was terrific. If you've never been to an Indian wedding, you're missing some major color and sparkle in your life. The music, the dancing, the horse! It's fantastic. I think the kids got a taste of the culture, even though WB spent a good chunk of the festivities being anti-social and connected to my hip.

For now, a brief highlight: my boy was compared on numerous occasions to Derek Zoolander, Jr. Here's hoping he can someday make a living out of being ridiculously goodlooking.

Airplane!

Off to Carolina for a wedding. Light blogging, to be followed by copious pictures, ahead.

Father's Day

First off, I want to wish Spouse a Happy Father's Day. I couldn't ask for a better partner in this scary, wonderful parenting process. He's everything a father should be. (Plus, he handles the medical emergencies with grace and calm, allowing me to indulge in the role of hysterical, overprotective mom without any lasting damage to the kids.)

Second off, I want to wish those dads out there in bloggerworld a Happy Father's Day. So to Nathan, Scrivener, Corndog, Dean Dad, bdure, and all the rest, best wishes!

Third off, a memory.

I was 14 years old when I was asked out on a real date for the first time. I was to accompany Floopy Haired Boy to a Dead Milkmen Concert. This was a major coup, since I had quite the crush on FHB. And I was, shall we say, socially awkward, so the prospect of an actual date was huge.

The day of the concert, Floopy Haired Boy called and told me he couldn't get tickets. So we weren't going. And then he hung up. Now, this could be the truth, or it could be that I was being stood up. I know I took it as the latter. My sister was away at college; my mom was off somewhere (although goodness knows, with our relationship being at a near shut-down at that point, I would not have confided in her with any of the emotional difficulties this gave me.) I was, instead, home for the evening with my dad.

Dad, being a middle-aged guy totally not up to the task of dealing with his socially awkward 14 year old daughter's first date being cancelled at the last minute, did what any dad in his position would do. He took me out for ice cream. And, even though he's a bit of a cheapskate, he told me I could get a sundae.

Almost 20 years later, and I remember that vividly. Happy Father's Day, Dad. I love you.

Acknowledgement

I would like to acknowledge that somebody very sweet and wonderful is acknowledging his birthday today. He's as old as I am. And that's ok. Cheeses loves you.

Best. Pizza Ad. Ever.

"Cheeses Loves You!"

Make it through the week Monday (on Wednesday. Again.)

I've come to the realization that I don't have a "make it through the week" sentiment on Mondays. This Monday, DQ was home for a mental health holiday, so the time that wasn't spent working was spent cuddling or watching Monsters, Inc. But even on a typical day, Monday is when I get a lot of stuff done because the kids are back at school, but I'm still not at crunch time for class prep. It's usually not until Wednesday that I have the "make it through the week" vibe.

Having figured this all out, I'm doing Make it through the week Monday again on Wednesday. And since it's Wednesday, I'll share our very special Wednesday morning ritual:



Every Wednesday, the kids and I sit on the stairs looking out the front window and watch the garbage truck pick up the trash cans on our street. It's one of those automatic arm trucks that picks up the can, lifts it high in the air, and empties it out in the bin. It's pretty cool.

Even better, our garbage man is the greatest guy in the world. He waves to the kids whenever he passes by. And the kids wave back, clap, and yell in excitement.

That's how we start every Wednesday. Traditions take many forms, eh?

Great sentence, Mann!

From Charles C. Mann's 1491: New Revelations of the Americas Before Columbus (2005):

"Only about half of Amazonia is upland forest -- vines overhead in a tangle like sailing ships rigged by drunks..."

Things that totally made my weekend

1. Eddie Izzard on The Daily Show. Two fabulous, hilarious, witty men debating the American Revolution. I'm in heaven.

2. Spouse finishing his first half-marathon. And we got to cheer him on. In the rain.

3. Homemade chocolate chip cookies. Made to celebrate Spouse's race. Eaten mostly by me.

4. Dragon boat races. In the rain. But not all that much rain.

5. The kids are just paragons of cuteness these days. Wild Boy has taken to giving these monster hugs that nearly choke you (but in a good way!) DQ wants me (not Daddy, ME) to sing her a song at night. Daddy got has his parting words last night, "Goose poopies are yucky." (we had seen some goose poopies at the races this weekend, so it was in context.) I got "I love you, you make me happy."

Parenting Affirmations

We were at an outdoor restaurant having truly terrible Mexican food last night. It was a gorgeous day, so we picked up the kids on the bikes and rode to the park, then to the restaurant for our dinner. There were about 5 outdoor tables, 3 of which were taken, all within view of where our bikes were parked.

As dinner progressed, the kids of course got restless and wanted to walk around. They walked back to the bikes and were playing around them. When all of a sudden we heard, "Daddy, I don't want [WB] to touch my bike!"

Daddy replied, "Too bad."

The table next to us was a couple sans kids, and they started laughing. "Good answer." Spouse turned toward them and said, "Sorry, I guess that sounded a little harsh."

The woman replied, "No, it sounded like good parenting. That's the way you keep them out of jail."

Her companion added, "You don't want a little Paris Hilton on your hands."

Indeed, we do not.

Remember when...

It was 1989. It was a Friday night after a football game. Some bandgeek buddies and I piled into Giant Redhead's truck and went driving. He could drive, the rest of us, not so much. But we were good about chipping in for gas money.

We stopped at the gas station down the street from our local McHangout and began ponying up. Redhead says, "Let's go someplace else. I'm not going to pay 92 cents a gallon when I can get 89 down the road."

Loyal readers, what's the lowest gas price you remember?

Caution: Emulating Pirates can be Hazardous to your Health

Sure, we all want to be Captain Jack Sparrow.
But at some point, we must understand that piracy has its dangers. And I don't mean having your heart cut out, walking the plank, or even developing a rum dependence.

I mean legos.

My nephew is currently obsessed with pirates. He has a lego pirate set, complete with a treasure chest with gold pieces. This weekend, he decided to do what any forward-thinking pirate would do: hide his gold where nobody would find it. This did not go exactly to plan. He informed my sister, "Mommy, I have a gold lego up my nose."

Mom and Dad instructed their 6 year old to blow his nose, but he instead snorted, lodging the lego even farther up his nasal cavity. Tweezers did not solve the problem. So a trip to the ER occurred.

After the removal of the lego, my nephew graciously thanked the doctor and asked if he could have the lego back. But he learned his lesson: "Noses are just for boogers."