Do You Want To Build A Snowman?

I know, I know, if you’re somewhere in the eastern three-quarters of the US and Canada, you’re probably sick of the whole idea of snow. And cold. And wind chill. And silly people throwing boiling water *over their heads*, then being surprised when it doesn’t all freeze immediately and ends up giving them painful burns.

That said, regardless of your personal love (or lack thereof) for all things winter, if you haven’t seen Frozen yet, go do it.

Now. Seriously. I’ll wait.

I almost didn’t see it, at least in the theater. My kids are getting older, on the outer range of “seeing Disney movies with mom is cool”. In fact, the youngest went to see it with Grandpa and the two of them reported back that it was “boring”.

That was that, I thought. I was no longer parent to Disney-going progeny. I’d have to catch it on cable or something down the road.

Then Midkid kept bringing it up. “Mom. It stars IDINA MENZEL. We have to go.”

So last weekend, we went, bringing along FutureStar and Grandma, who was still a little irritated that Grandpa had seen it without her, too.

And for the next hour and whatever minutes, the four of us sat, enthralled, as Disney wove that magic I remembered from when I was a kid.

The main characters were complicated, strong, and interesting. The songs were catchy and emotional. The art was spellbinding. And the story – let’s just say it turned the easy tropes and expectations sideways, but never in a way that felt cheap or manipulative (at least to me).

I don’t want to give too much away. I went in with very few expectations and little knowledge of the story, and really enjoyed watching the movie unfold. I don’t want to take that opportunity away from anyone.

But once you’ve seen it? Man, I could talk about it for hours with you!

So go ahead. Find a matinee. Take a day off work. I’ll write you a note. Then let me know what you think. 

Art Imitating Life, or Why I'm Dreading Tomorrow

As some of you may know, I have three kids in various stages of teen- and tween-hood. And one of the shows they have watched with varying degrees of consistency is Glee.

(Last season was pretty much a miss to the Davies family, but prior to that, it was must see TV for several of us.)

Yes, I count myself among the Glee-watchers. I started watching to have something to do with my kids, but ended up sticking around for the songs and the storylines. Sometimes we loved it, sometimes we hate-watched, but either way, we watched.

And if every episode there was at least one action or decision by a main character that ended up in a "THIS IS WHY YOU SHOULD NEVER DO THAT" conversation with my kids, well, I took it as a teaching moment.

But last summer, real life intruded on the little microcosm that is Glee, when actor Cory Monteith was found dead in a Vancouver hotel, a death that was tied to drug and alcohol abuse. My kids were saddened but not distraught, and sadly, it was another teaching moment for our family - about how hard addiction can be to beat, and how even people with advantages and resources can get caught in that downward spiral.

Which brings us to tomorrow. The show will be airing its tribute episode, saying goodbye to both Cory and the character he played, Finn. Midkid asked on the way to soccer, "What happened to Finn? Have they announced how he died?"

As far as I know, they haven't. And I'm a little wary of watching the episode, for several reasons. Trepidation over how they'll walk the fine line between grieving for a character and castmate, and putting him up on a pedestal. Concern that the 'cause of death' will be too close to how he really died - or not close at all. And not sure how I'll make it through the episode without a box of kleenex, for me and my kids.

But we'll be there, nonetheless, hoping that this episode, more than any other, the creative team gets it right.

Roughing It

Thanks to the wonders of modern technology, I'm writing this blog post a couple of days ahead of the actual posting date. Which is a very good thing, because at the time this post goes live, I'll be on the last day of a camping trip with the family.

I love camping. From the time I was a little girl going "boat camping" with my parents, to celebrating college graduation with a big group of friends and an even bigger tent at the nearby state park, to heading out with my own children today, camping has always been a part of my life.

When I was younger, camping meant sleeping bags on thin nylon tent flooring, and pit toilets across the teensy island from the only two campsites. Later, we added blow-up air mattresses for sleeping comfort.

But now? You can pry the control for my heated mattresses out of my cold, dead hands.

Yeah, we don't win any prizes for living off the land or becoming one with the elements. We may insist that having a tent trailer counts as real camping because there's *canvas*, but the truth is, we're not much for roughing it.

The most challenging part of this trip? NO WIFI. Which makes me a little nervous, since the last book in my Girls Most Likely To trilogy was released on Monday.

On the other hand, we've got time with the kids, and ocean breezes, and snuggling in sleeping bags while night falls outside the trailer. And the internet will be there when we get back.

We hope. :)

What's your favorite vacation? Do you like roughing it, or is a five star resort more your style? Or something in between?

Halloween Madness

This weekend, we went to Costco for a little light shopping. (Ha! I don't think that's even possible.) We were halfway to the checkout when I grabbed my husband's arm and said, "We have to get candy."

I then proceeded to pile four huge bags of Halloween candy into the cart. He looked at me strangely and said, "Are you sure we need that much?"

I smiled fondly and replied, "Honey, according to the neighbors, this is the low end of what we'll need. If we run out, we just have to turn off the lights and pretend we're not home."

Yes. Once again, we've moved into Halloween Central.

Our last house was also in a destination trick or treat neighborhood. As the only flat, in-town neighborhood with sidewalks and street lights, we found ourselves overrun with minivans each Halloween. They'd drive down the street, pull over, and discharge so many kids we started wondering if they were descended from clown cars.

The first Halloween we lived there, we ran out of candy halfway through the evening, and I sent the DH running to the grocery store to grab whatever was left. In the meantime, I was begging candy from our kids to hand out while we waited for his return. We learned very quickly that we could expect 300-400 kids each Halloween.

Our new neighborhood? Double that.

Not only is trick or treating a big deal here, so is decorating for Halloween. The neighbors are already breaking out the tombstones and pumpkins; word is that some families build their own haunted houses in the driveways.

I have to admit, we're not exactly prepared.

But even though it may end up being a bit overwhelming, I'm looking forward to the experience. Lots of kids, lots of families, a chance to be part of something on a neighborhood scale - I can't wait. Apparently the homeowner's association even collects donations for the food bank from the families that drive in to take advantage of the wide, well-lit streets.

So it's all good. Except for the still-sealed bags of Halloween candy in the cabinet. If they make it to the 31st without tempting me to open them, it'll be a miracle.

Play Ball!

I love spring.

Sure, the nicer weather is a happy change, and the impending end of the school year is definitely something to look forward to, but that's not why I look forward to the season every year.

No, it's baseball. And fastpitch. And softball.

What can I say? I'm a fan.

Last week, I was sitting with my parents at the second game of the evening, and I was explaining some ruling to them. My mother looked at me and said, "You spent your entire childhood sitting under a tree reading a book. How in the world did you become an expert?"

I joked that it was a survival mechanism, and to some extent that's true. With three kids on three different teams, I had to eventually pay attention to what was going on or end up hopelessly lost. But it's more than that.

The kids first started playing seven or eight years ago, and those first games were amusing, but nothing to write home about. (Although our oldest, that first year, played almost every position - simultaneously - because the rest of the team was busy drawing in the dirt or chasing butterflies. Hey, it was T-ball. That's almost a prerequisite.)

Then something changed. FutureStar ended up on a team with coaches who knew what they were doing, and the kids started to learn how to actually play. Then MidKid got on the same team. This year, that team is now three teams, and FutureStar is on 14U. Meanwhile, MidKid was recruited for a select team, and has been playing in tournaments all season. And GPS finally (finally!) has a decent coach and is learning how to play the game as well.

It's the leaping catch to snag a foul ball and get that out. It's the charge across the field to hold a runner on third. It's the split-second decision to fire the ball at home plate instead of second. It's the perfect bunt down the third base line, or the line drive into the gap. It's the joy when coach puts them in as the position they really want to play.

So yeah, I love this season. I love watching my kids grow as players, work together with their teammates, battle back from a deficit to pull out a win at the last minute. The defeats are hard, definitely, but they're also teaching my kids to be good sports, to learn from mistakes, to pick themselves back up and try again.

This weekend, we've got two tournaments in two different cities for two of the kids, and a game, practice, and team party for the third. I'm not sure how we're going to get everyone where they need to be when they need to be there, but we'll figure it out.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.