Summer Memories from 2012 - Hershey PA

When I was a kid my family took a lot of vacations. We went camping mostly and did a bunch of trips to Florida and a few coast to coast trips as well. I remember when I was about 9 or 10 we went to Hershey, PA. I remember that the whole place smelled like chocolate, there was a ride through the factory and the street lights were made out of Hershey Kisses!! It was utopia for kids as far as I was concerned.


This year, for our family camping trip, we (OK, I) decided to head back to Hershey. The kids were ecstatic, though I was worried that I may have oversold it just a bit. I think they sort of expected the streets to be paved with caramel and the fountains to be spraying chocolate. Kelly couldn't believe that she had gotten roped into the whole damn thing. I will admit, it's "kitschy", but in a homey, "sweet" kind of way.

We pulled into the campground late (around 11:00pm) and in the midst of a thunderstorm. Lots of fun setting up that way. Not. Always nice to see the other campers peering out their windows watching you scramble around trying to get hooked up while they sip their beer. I know it's what I would have done had the situation been reversed.

The campground was great. Two pools, an arcade and a cute store full of, what else, chocolate stuff. The kids rode their bikes around and Mom, Kelly and I took turns chaperoning at the pool. Lots of cooking over the fire and late night bonfires. Kelly even brought out the Eukele for a sing along. Good stuff. 

The next day we went to Chocolate World, we took the trolley ride (complete with sing a-long which the kids and I LOVED) and we went to the amusement park. The kids had a BALL. Loved every minute of it! Everywhere you go people tell you to "Have a Sweet Day". It's kind of their schtick. "But it's CUTE", I kept telling Kelly as she continued to roll her eyes into the back of her head.

Chocolate world is exactly what you'd think it is. A giant store filled with more chocolate, candy and other chocolate related stuff than you can imagine. Christmas ornaments, stuffed toys, coffee mugs, etc. It was enormous. There was also a "ride" inside that you could take to see how they make the chocolate. And there were singing cows on the ride. Talk about an "ear worm". Couldn't get the damn song out of my head for WEEKS. Their subliminal tactic worked. I bought a coffee mug with the stupid cows on it. 

The next day we went to the amusement/water park. It was a great park with lots of fun roller coasters and shows. They even had a zoo in there! It was hot as hell though so that was kind of a bummer. Especially on the day that someone (not naming names) forgot to wear deodorant. Dear God. I searched every gift shop to see if they were selling it but, apparently, that's not a common enough problem for them to stock it. To save ourselves we just went to the water park early...

When we were at the water park enjoying our lunch, something happened. I think that's the point where I lost Kelly completely. We were sitting near a "stage" area and all of a sudden this loud music started blasting out of the speakers. We all looked up and I KID YOU NOT a dancing Hershey Syrup bottle and a dancing Reese's Peanut Butter cup came out. Kelly was in shock. I think they were doing the hustle. It was all a little surreal now that I think back on it. Like, your mind couldn't quite process what was happening. But then the absurdity of it all kicked in and I was hysterical. I even made Emma and Zoe go and dance with the characters. 

Kelly was beside herself. 

But the trip was SO MUCH FUN. It really was. Aside from all the chocolate and "sweet" days and all, it was FUN. All the kids loved it and so did I. If push came to shove, I think Kelly might admit that she loved it too. I am so incredibly blessed to be able to do things like this. To create memories for my kids, to raise them side by side with their cousins, to have family so very involved in their lives. I wouldn't trade it for the world. Even a chocolate one. 

Death of a Llama

Monday was a very sad day at our house. Our faithful, sassy and somewhat misunderstood llama (Manny) died. It was really a pretty horrific thing if you want to know the truth. It involved him getting caught in some wire fencing and getting trapped. I completely freaked out when I found him and called my dad to bring over wire cutters. We got all the wire off but he just wasn't coming back around. He was still breathing but looked to be scared and in pain.

This is always the worst part about pet ownership. The responsibility of playing God and deciding whether an animal will live or die. It's never an easy choice but it's one that has to be carefully considered. After a thorough check and careful consultation with the vet, we decided that the humane choice would be to put him down. I laid on the ground, still in my work clothes and held his head in my lap while the vet gave him the lethal injection. I stroked his ears and kissed his nose. I spoke quietly to him, told him that I loved him and that I appreciated the time I had with him.

The goats were inconsolable. They kept running down the hill, sniffing him and then running away. I don't think they knew what was happening. Although the one goat, Blue, had an altogether different and wholly inappropriate response to the situation. As Dad was on the ground, massaging Manny's neck trying to encourage him to get up, Blue walked up and peed on Manny's head. He also hit Dad's arm. I guess his grief got the best of him. Or he's just a jerk that way. Hard to say with goats.

Only Time Can Fix a Bad Haircut

The kids are still mad at me and I can't say that I blame them. My cheapness caused them shame and embarrassment. But. In my defense, I thought there were some regulations or something that would prevent this type of thing. I think I was mistaken.

I took the kids to a rather well known chain establishment for haircuts the other day. Yes, I did it because it's cheap. No, I did not do it to intentionally ruin their lives. Really.

I mean, let's be honest. The finer salons are clearly not beating down the doors of these particular stylists. Still, they're not just someone off the street right? I mean there had to be SOME schooling involved, didn't there? How hard can it be? It's not like a kids' haircut has all kinds of angles, layers and special maneuvers. Just follow the lines from before. Just a trim. Just "clean it up a bit".  O.M.G.

I actually felt bad when the kids returned to me from the chairs. Really bad. Max had some weird "rooster tail" piece of hair that bobbed around when he walked. His bangs were uneven and he had red scrapes on his neck.

Zoe looked like the stylist had used a weed whip. I still can't quite figure out what she did to make it so bad. I mean seriously, I just asked for a trim. Nothing fancy. No layers, just a straight trim. It looked like the stylist (and I now use that term loosely) may have used dull pinking shears. Zoe looked like she was going to cry.

Some of you may ask why I didn't ask the stylists to fix their mistakes. Well, I had a couple of thoughts about that. It could be that the stylist would be offended and, out of spite, make it worse (if that's even possible). Or, it could be that their skills are so awfully bad that trying to correct it would not only be impossible, it would be catastrophic. I decided that I would just pay for it and get the heck out of there. I swear to you that I clutched the children to me and backed towards the door.

So, you're probably wondering if I've learned my lesson. Have I learned that you get what you pay for? You'd like to think so. Not sure that I have. Budgets aren't for sissies.

Not the Same as a Shot in the Arm

Not the Same as a Shot in the Arm...

I hurt my arm a few months back while I was moving firewood. I kind of thought it would fix itself but it didn't so I decided to go see the doctor. Of course, before I got there I diagnosed myself on the internet and decided that I had “tennis elbow” (I did) so I kind of knew what I was in for. Rest, physical therapy, Motrin, blah, blah, blah. What I was NOT prepared for was the shot of Toradol to help with the inflammation. I get what it is and how it will help and all but I thought we could be civilized about it and put it in my arm. Apparently not. There is something so very embarrassing about getting a shot in the butt. I tried desperately to make conversation with the nurse just to feel better about it but she was all business. She left the room as I was struggling to get my clothes back in order. All I have to remember her by is a band-aid. 

Water Park's Aren't for Sissies

The kids and I spent 10 hours at an indoor water park on Saturday. TEN hours. Looking back it hardly seems possible to have been there that long but we were. Every minute of it.

To clarify...the photo above is NOT me. As a matter of fact, I didn't see ANYONE that looked that happy at the park. Certainly none of the adults anyway unless, of course, they were just leaving the swim up bar. 

The chlorine, the bodies, the tattoos, the piercings and thank the good Lord, the alcohol. I went with my "friend" (whom I refuse to call my boyfriend because it sounds so damn 7th grade), his daughter, my daughter, my son and my son's friend. My son and his friend are now 15 years old so, suffice it to say, I spent most of my time making sure they weren't doing bad things in one of the five hot tubs. I must have seen my son with no less than 4 different girls during the day. Talking to them, walking with them, sitting with his arm around them. Whatever it is, this kid's got it in spades. I think he just brought his friend along to be his "wing man". (Is that even a thing anymore or am I dating myself with that term?)

Fortunately, my daughter and her friend were more interested in the water slides and wave pools than the boys. Unfortunately, my daughter looks much older than she is so I spent a lot of time making sure that boys/men weren't ogling her. Mostly that looked like me walking behind and her pointedly staring at any boy/man that looked her way.

But oh the bodies. Just lots and lots of bodies. In various shapes, sizes, colors. It's a fascinating place to people watch. The amount and variation of tattoos was astonishing. There were some that were well done and others that clearly were not. Prison? Maybe. But wow, so many people just treated their body like a damn coloring book. It's not that I'm against tattoos, I'm not. Fun fact, I was voted "Most Likely to Get a Tattoo" by my sorority. So I'm no stranger. Still, I never took the plunge and I'm glad I didn't. Happier still that I didn't put a bunch of crap on my body that looks ridiculous.

But the kids loved the water park and isn't that what it's about, after all? So hopeful that the kids will remember these things fondly so their future therapy sessions aren't quite so dark.

I Believe In You Baby

Dating is not for the faint of heart. Especially, dating after divorce. I'm really not even sure how people manage to do it at all, let alone as frequently and recklessly as they do. It's all fun and games at the start until the new guy/gal does something that was "exactly what my ex used to do." BAM. Game on. It's like all this stored up crap comes bubbling up to the surface from your past and you become a different person. More accurately, you become the person you used to be. And not one that you liked so much during the last go around. It's such a knee-jerk reaction when it happens that it will completely catch you off guard, I guarantee it. You'll never see it coming. Suddenly, you step outside yourself and see this person (you) acting like a complete lunatic.

It's embarrassing and it's humbling and it's devastating, all at the same time.  And suddenly, you're right back where you were. You're right back to the start of all the hurt, the anger and the pain. It's like not a single day has elapsed since the day it all fell apart. And it crushes your heart.

But then. Then you look into the eyes of this person standing in front of you and you notice something. You notice that his eyes are gentle and kind. And you notice that he is continuing to look at you with love and understanding and he's not running away. He's not going anywhere. In fact, he's pulling you in for a hug that will bring you back from the edge. He's speaking gently to you and reassuring you because he KNOWS where you have gone just now. He knows what has happened to you in that moment and he's there to make sure that you return. To him. And all is well and right with your world once again.  

Dating after Divorce

If you thought dating the first time around - before marriage - was tough you will be AMAZED and OVERWHELMED at how difficult it is after divorce. So I'm sort of seeing someone. Sort of. I'm actually not really sure what we're doing or how to classify it or even what I really want. Let alone knowing what he wants. My friends are relentlessly teasing me about this. They can't believe that this guy is even willing to be in the same room with me based on my confusing and indecisive behavior.

Here is my friends impression of me talking to this guy:
"So, I want you to want me but not really want me too much. I want you to love me, but don't tell me that you love me, just love me from a distance so I know that you love me even though I don't think I want you to love me. I want you to be close to me but not too close. I don't want you to suffocate me but I want you to feel like you can't survive a day without me."

Not entirely true but pretty damn close. The poor guy spends most of our dates just looking at me like this:



And I can't really blame him. It's not easy to know what you want or to even know if you should want it or if you deserve to want it. I admit that it's confusing but I guess that's just where things are right now.