Goin' to Tweetsie Railroad in My Mind

If you've ever been to Tweetsie Railroad in Blowing Rock, then you get it when I say that it is truly a slice of life. The Wild West theme park attracts an incredible cross-section of people from all walks ... and they converge en masse in the High Country of Western North Carolina looking for some good old-fashioned fun.

We first took our kids to Tweetsie in the summer of 2004, and we have made countless visits in the years since. In fact, for the last three years, we have been loud and proud card-carrying members of the "Golden Rail Season Pass" club.

Tweetsie has been around since long before I was born, and some of my first memories are from when I was about 4 years old, being terrorized on the three-mile train ride through the woods. Back then, after the train would make an "unscheduled stop" in the middle of the forest, actors wielding hatchets and donning war paint would race through the train cars threatening the passengers.

It's not nearly as frightening these days. The cowboys and Indians skip through the train cars without whooping and hollering. In fact, during a visit last summer, one of the "bad guy" Indians even stopped mid-show to console Julianna when he noticed she looked scared.

They might as well hold hands and sing Kum Ba Yah.

And while I love every minute of our trips to Tweetsie, the train rides, shows, and kiddie attractions ooze such cheese that it's enough to nauseate even Mortimer J. Mouse on Miner's Mountain (again, if you've been there, you get it).

Earlier this week I was thinking about our trips to Tweetsie because of LJ's bout with the flu. Strange connection I know ... but when LJ was 5 years old, he started running a fever on a trip to Blowing Rock. We went to Tweetsie anyway because he didn't have any other symptoms. But by that night, he was in terrible shape. Two days later, he was diagnosed with pneumonia. That may be the only time I've seen him sicker than this past week.

Remembering that trip prompted me to pore through our photos. And in looking at our Tweetsie album, I noticed that you could make a pictorial time line of our family using just those photos. Our kids really grow up in the Tweetsie pictures ... summer after summer ... from wispy-headed, bandanna-wearing babies to independent, gun-toting kids. (No worries, they're cap guns. And Julianna's is pink).

So while I sometimes like to poke fun at the whole "Tweetsie experience," I wouldn't trade it for the world. As a family, we have enjoyed a lot of really wonderful times there ... and the photos that document our visits are just the icing on that slice of life cake.

The Taming of the Flu

The Tamiflu Crew
"Life is good. Life is bad. Anything can happen in life. Except for nonsense things."

This was Julianna's thought for the day as she got ready for bed last night.

LJ's response?

"Not true! Nonsense things can happen."

I doubt that either child realized just how prophetic this conversation would be less than 24 hours later.

But as LJ's fever spiked at nearly 104 degrees early this morning, I knew a trip to the pediatrician was warranted. He rarely gets sick, and he had me concerned with his combination of high fever, chest congestion, and lethargy.

To my utter shock, his flu test came back positive.

Now I know that flu vaccines are not even close to fool-proof. But I cannot recall either kid ever having the flu. And since Jack and I started getting the vaccines several years ago, neither have we.

When LJ heard the news, you would have thought his pet fish, Max, had died all over again. Tears were streaming down his face and he had a hard time coming to grips with how truly nonsensical it all was. You could practically see his little mind whirring away as he tried to process it all.

Why had he gone to the horrible inconvenience and discomfort of getting the flu mist if he was ultimately fated to contract this awful virus anyway?

Why?

Life is good. Life is bad. Anything can happen in life. And in this case, nonsense happened in the form of the flu.

The doctor prescribed Tamiflu for the entire family in the hopes of minimizing LJ's symptoms and keeping ours at bay. The jury is still out on its effectiveness, and I am a little bit queasy just thinking about the possibility of the flu.

On our way back from picking up the Tamiflu prescriptions at Rite-Aid, the packaging caught LJ's eye.

"Mom," he said. "That shouldn't be called Tam-i-flu. That should be called Tame-a-flue. Get it?"

I did, and I laughed -- out loud. Despite being totally immersed in a flu-induced misery, my son didn't miss a chance to crack a joke.

Unfortunately, thus far, Tamiflu seems only to have tamed LJ and not the virus.

He is notoriously picky about the flavor of medicine, so I sought assurances from both the doctor and pharmacist that this medicine tasted "fine." Despite their promises, LJ spit the first Tamiflu dose all over me and the sofa. He then gagged down a second dose only to throw it up on the carpet.

Between me and Jack, we made four trips to Rite Aid today -- the last of which was to have some watermelon "magic" added to the Tamiflu to improve the taste.

Life is good. Life is bad. Anything can happen in life. Especially nonsense things.

And sometimes life gives us lemons -- like the flu. Next time I'll just be sure to get it artificially flavored.

This Birthday Brought to You By ...

As we were hanging decorations for Julianna's birthday beach bash, she looked at me and said, "Mom, don't you think this is a little over the top?"

I beg to differ. I thought the mix of limbo, ice cream sundaes, and beach-themed crafts was just about right. But her question did get me thinking about how we could really make it "over the top" in years to come.

The answer came in a blinding flash: corporate sponsors.

The demographics are there ... young girls have moms, and most of these moms are fashion conscious and have some disposable income to burn. It's a win-win situation for both me and the companies.

Yes, corporate sponsorship is the key to the party to end all parties.


Since it was a beach party theme, as each girl arrived we provided them with some cheap plastic sunglasses. But there will be no junk for these ladies next year. Instead, eye wear sponsor Dolce & Gabanna will give each guest a pair of sunglasses covered with Swarovski crystals ... a dream come true for every little princess. Retail value: $400 each

One of our party crafts was a do-it-yourself beaded beach-themed necklace. I think I paid about 75 cents for each. But next year, why go inexpensive when you can go with the little blue box? Instead of a boring craft, Tiffany & Co., our jewelry sponsor, will be gifting each girl a sterling silver seashore charm bracelet. Each bracelet features an anchor, sailboat, starfish, fish, and beach umbrella. Retail value: $550 each

When it was time for our guests to head home, we gave each girl a dinky little paper gift bag. Next year, our guests will leave the party in style, as our title sponsor will be Coach. They will provide one of their most popular bags for our guests, appropriately titled "Julianne" and in my daughter's favorite color, pink. Retail value: $378 each


Finally, there's the small matter of the birthday dessert. Julianna isn't really a big fan of birthday cake . . . something to do with the icing. So we opted for ice cream sundaes this year. It went over prety well, although I think the girls may have consumed more candy toppings than actual ice cream. Regardless, I think we should stick with ice cream again next year.

But why bring ice cream to the girls when you can bring the girls to ice cream?

Ben & Jerry's, our dessert sponsor, will be flying our entourage -- all expenses paid -- to South Burlington, Vermont, for a private factory tour. Free ice cream included! Retail value: $4,060 (includes round-trip airfare for 20 guests).

I can picture it now ... with a combined retail value of $1,531 per guest, girls will be falling all over themselves to be friends with my daughter. We'll never have to beg for another playdate again. Julianna will be the "it" girl.

All kidding aside, it is pretty amazing how ridiculously expensive some children's birthday parties have become. I can only hope that, as Julianna gets older, paper umbrella straws, pink lemonade, and inflatable palm trees will continue -- at least in her eyes -- to be "over the top."

At least until we finish planning her wedding.

Check Mate

While I was in Denver on business a couple of weeks ago and the family was "home alone," LJ participated in his first real chess tournament. My younger brother, Steven, tutors him in chess once a week and accompanied him to a local scholastic event.

Participating in this tournament was a big leap for LJ. He had played successfully in chess club and camp at school, but this was different. He knew going into the tournament that there would be better players than him and that he would likely lose the majority of his matches.

For a kid who hates losing almost as much as he hates sledding, this was a risk.

As it turned out, LJ won two of his six matches and had a positive enough experience that he wants to enter more tournaments in the near future.

I am thrilled he seems to really love a "thinking man's" game, but I'm actually even more ecstatic that I do not know the first thing about it.

I mean it. I do not know ANYTHING about chess. I cannot even line up the cute little horsey character in the right spot on the board.

And I like it that way.

I'm not sure how I avoided chess by osmosis as a child. My dad was an avid player, and although I was fascinated by his "high-tech" liquid crystal magnetic electronic chess board, I never learned how to use it.

My older brother, TJ, knew how to play, and he and my dad engaged in matches pretty frequently. And Steven is a very accomplished player, as he has won the New Hampshire state high school championship and traveled up and down the East Coast to play in tournaments.

But not me. And the reason I plan to keep it that way is as simple as a Queen's gambit (that's a beginner's chess move according to Google).

I love being able to encourage LJ and watch him play without knowing a right move versus a wrong move; a good decision versus a bad one; or a near victory versus a certain defeat.

I played soccer for years, so when I watch LJ play for his team, the Rattlers, it's hard not give him suggestions. I swam competitively for even longer, so when I watch LJ race for the Bedford Sharks, it's too easy to offer stroke critique.

No matter what sport (or activity) I'm watching the kids participate in, I always try to remove myself from it as much as possible. I know the last thing they need is any more pressure to perform. But I think that as parents, we all know that's so much easier said than done.

With chess, ignorance is bliss.

I can just relax and take it in because I have absolutely no clue what is going on. I can focus on LJ, and not his actions. I don't know if he's just made a terrible move or a great one. I don't know if he's about win or lose. And I don't really care. I just love to watch his expressions and listen as he talks himself through his moves and strategy.

So, while I usually feel a pang of guilt when LJ offers to teach me how to play chess, I think I'll keep telling him "no thanks." (Besides, I know he only wants me to learn so he can beat me).

There are so few times we parents can sit back and just observe our kids.

To put that in chess terms, I think that would be something like ... "take time to stop and smell the Fried Liver attack."

No really, that is a chess move.

LJ just told me so.

The Pink Ladies

Note: This post contains a picture of me as a cheerleader and bonus video footage!

Unlike LJ, who is a seasoned veteran of youth basketball and soccer teams, Julianna has not really participated in team sports until now. She was on a recreational soccer team called "The Blast" with some other 4-year-olds, but that lasted about two weeks.

The team name, incidentally, was a misnomer.

During the second soccer game (and I use the word game loosely to describe a mass of small children flocking to the ball like moths to flame), she came running off the field red-faced and near tears and proclaimed: "Mommy, I don't like sports. I just wanna dance!"

Honestly, for a moment I thought she could not possibly be my daughter.

But she was clearly miserable and since we did not want to cause any (further) irreversible psychological damage to our little princess, we let her quit the team. Fortunately she seemed to get over the experience quickly, as she proudly accepted her participatory trophy a few weeks later. She still has it displayed prominently in her room.

So after two years away from team sports, we decided to give it another go with Upward basketball. Julianna actually wanted to be an Upward cheerleader instead of playing basketball. But since I assume that genetics play some role in cheerleading talent, I said no. (Some of you will recall my embarrassing six-month stint as an eighth-grade cheerleader at Ravenscroft, which provided my brother, TJ, incredible fodder for his stand-up comedy routines).

Tonight was Julianna's first basketball practice, and she plays for the Tigers. Choosing her "outfit" for practice was a big decision, and she ultimately decided on pink sweatpants and a pink t-shirt. And while Julianna was agonizing over which pink t-shirt to wear, LJ was in the background shouting: "Juli, you CANNOT wear pink to basketball practice. You are a Tiger and Tigers should wear orange!

Well, Julianna wasn't the only one in the "wrong colors" at practice. Out of the 10 girls who play for the Tigers, two were wearing uniforms, one was wearing a skirt, and SEVEN of them were dressed in pink.

Maybe instead of the Tigers they should be called "The Pink Ladies."

And a quick glance at the names on the roster is unlikely send any shivers up the spines of their opponents: Haley, Kenan, Bailey, Tessa, Kate, Christina, Julianna, Abby, Kailee, and Gracie.

Not exactly monikers like "Psycho-T," "The Diesel," or "The Answer."

In fact, five of Julianna's teammates names end with the "ee" sound, and that just isn't going to induce fear in the hearts of others.

Despite not being allowed to wield pom-poms in basketball practice, Julianna seemed to enjoy herself. And I think she made a couple of new friends.

Besides, even if she doesn't end up loving the game of basketball, at least she has one thing to look forward to ... Picture Day is on Feb. 14.

Learning how to bounce pass:

LJ, #14, the Heat's franchise player in 2008:

We've got spirit!:

This picture must have been taken after that BC game: