Little Monkey and Friends

If you don't hear from me again, it's because we are about to embark on a vacation. This will be the first real vacation the old monkey and are have taken since Jordan was born. I am excited and incredibly nervous at the same time. I'm looking forward to the relaxed pace of a vacation - no schedules, no routines - just an opportunity to hang out and decompress from the stress of daily life. We're especially lucky, in this regard to be sharing this vacation with good friends, who are bringing their own little monkey along. She happens to be a seasoned traveller, so we're hoping to pick up some tips from her.

But I'm nervous too. Want to know why? Because we are driving 12 hours to get to our vacation destination. "We" consists of the following: myself, Monkey Sr., Jordan, Miss Mina, Oscar, and the newest addition to our family - Mandy, our au pair. (Big shout out to the folks back home in Germany! Mandy's doing fine, and we haven't scared her off yet. Yet. Ha ha.) The prospect of loading up a minivan with such a motley assortment of cast and crew sounds like a bad sitcom, doesn't it? Mental images of Chevy Chase and his grand trip to Wallyworld come to mind. And God forbid we go anywhere on vacation without the furball. He'll be riding shotgun, in my lap, for the entire 12 hours because he suffers from separation anxiety.

Oy..I am dreading the drive.

But, Monkey Sr. is convinced that it will be "OKAY" because of the magical powers of Baby Einstein.

Baby Einstein videos shall be accompanying us and playing in a continual loop courtesy of the newly purchased portable DVD player. Yes, ladies and gentleman, I have now officially become that type of parent. You know the one I mean? The one who freely sedates her kid with television in order to buy a few precious minutes of peace and quiet.

Hi, my name is Sadaf, and I am a bad mommy.

Once we arrive though, look out. I am going to have a good time if it kills me.



I explain the rules to Miss Mina.

Rule #1 - The first rule of Fight club is, you don't talk about fight club.

Rule #2 - you will sleep through the night so as to allow mommy time to get her drink on, in peace.

Miss Mina expressed my sentiment, exactly. Hope everyone has a restful weekend.

Accepting the tag from Chic Mommy - voila! The contents of my purse in all its glory. The observant among you will notice that my bag is the exact same one I am carrying in my profile picture. That picture was taken in 2003. I still carry around this bag, bought on a whim one summer from a street vendor in Soho.



What is all this junk, you ask? Let's take a closer look, shall we? Why not?


Red wallet from Macy's, overstuffed with credit cards, bank cards, gift cards, and work badge. Ooh I love that badge. The one work related item I still hold onto despite my current stay-at-home status. I have yet to flash this badge and try to avoid a ticket. The main reason being, that the one time I was pulled over recently (several years ago), I left my purse at home. Naturally. Hey chic, I think I was driving home from your sister's shadhi, if I remember correctly.

What else ..

change - destined to be put into the monkey's piggy bank.

Blistex - stolen from Monkey, Sr.

Cell phone - probably turned off or dead.

Receipts from gym class registration for little monkey, as well as eye doctor for me.

Piece of candy bar wrapper - Hershey's, also known as lunch on the go. That would be 5 points for those following my Weight Watcher odyssey.

And of course, keys to BESS, the grey ghost - a/k/a, the minivan.



Obviously, with two monkeys, the real heavy-duty bag that I cart around is this bad boy. It's full of so much crap, I don't even know where to begin. It also has so many pockets and compartments, I spend ridiculous amounts of precious awake-time trying to find whatever it was I thought I had so neatly organized away. Anyone with kids knows exactly what's in this "bag." Personally, I think that a carry piece this substantial needs to be called luggage.



Miss Mina is shocked by her mommy's use of the word, "crap."

Ok, my turn. Consider yourself tagged, Grace's Mom, and Big T.



Kristen explains the intricacies of bead mazes to the Monkey.



I don't see a bag in this picture, T. But I bet you've got good stuff. Spill it, girl!

Grandma H's monthlong sojourn in the Garden State was a special time for all of us. The Little Monkey, in particular,had a blast. In so many ways, great and small, important lessons were learned. For example, here, he learns to manipulate the latch on the back deck. This makes his future escape from the confines of home much easier.


We also played with balloons. What more do you need for a good time? And before lunch, even??




We practiced spelling our name, a skill that always comes in handy when it's time to sign those autographs or checks, as the case may be.



And Grandma H also taught the monkey the importance of proper sun protection for one's eyes. Here, she models her "I'll-be-back" Arnold inspired eye visors. They looked super fly when we visited Turtle Back zoo.



Sometimes, we just took a random moment of the day for some impromptu photo ops. The Little Monkey even shared the spotlight with Miss Mina. Each has learned at an early age how to pose for the camera.



Work it, girl. That cute chubby-faced, big eyed look is always a crowd pleaser.



And it's even more convincing up close. How many acorns can the mina-monkey store in those chipmunk cheeks?

Finally, we managed to catch on tape, the true peice-de-resistance. Here, monkey demonstrates the vocal stylings that we are certain will lead to a lifetime of fame and riches. Don't forget who helped train you, little monkey. I'd like to retire early.




All kidding aside, we enjoyed watching the little monkeys interact with Grandma H. I know she enjoyed it too. But in her typically understated way, she left thanking us! She thanked us for letting her take care of Jordan. Was she kidding? Does she have any idea what an enormous help she was, and how lucky we were to be able to take advantage of her generosity? I don't know. What I do know is that it was a wonderful month, and I was able to relax, knowing that Jordan was always in such capable and competent hands. It's not the same around here without you Grandma, but you're only a car ride (and one state) away.

Hugs, and Rubbing noses to you! Come visit again soon.

Good Morning New Jersey ! Here I am! Check out my rockin' Pat Benetar 'do! And dimples! Holy moly, Batman, where'd these friggin' dimples come from?


Little Monkey attempts a modified "downward-facing dog." Though tiny in all other respects, his gargantuan feet provide just the right amount of balance for so tricky a position.




Cute kid, and a sweet disposition, but I wonder how he really feels about sharing his playroom with the new addition. Miss Mina is as enthralled with the Fisher Price Bouncy Aquarium chair as her big brother used to be.



Little Monkey - circa May 2005

I love cookies. All of them. Graham crackers, goldfishies, Arrowroot biscuits, Zweibeck, Vanilla wafers, Chocolate chip, Chips Ahoy, Chocolate covered graham crackers, Milanos, Pims, Lu's ... Oh, and Jordan likes them too. Despite his sporty Puma athletic apparel, the little Monkey was having one of those days. You know those days .. the ones where you just can't stop eating? The ones where you go on a bender and devour the entire box of cookies? He was having one of those days. I did my best to resist the temptation to just join him on the kitchen floor - sippy cup in one hand, Arrowroot biscuits in the other.



Unlike his mother, the Little Monkey is never plagued by guilt when it comes to those moments of indulgence. Here, he ponders the mysteries of life while contentedly chewing his biscuit. No regrets, no remorse. He lives in the moment, savoring each luscious, sugary mouthful.



Also unlike his mother, the Little Monkey has the waistline of an ant, and thus can enjoy his moments of gluttony without a second thought. I watched him and mentally calculated how many Weight Watcher points each biscuit represented. Could I afford to have one? Should I waste precious points on a two-inch biscuit whose fleeting pleasure was debateable as it included no chocolate.



Last chance, Mom. Only a little bit left. You sure you don't want it? Are you sure you don't want to snatch the last bite of cookie from the hands of your only son? Your only son who had a heart transplant at eight days old? You sure now?



Excellent display of willpower there, mom. At this rate, you will be back to your goal weight before I learn to drive.

Bring him to Leggo Land in Paramus Park to find out that...




Oops ... It's closed!




We are not amused.

We soldiered on through the mall impervious to the sounds of other toddlers crying in disappointment.

I know it's not funny to laugh at a crying child. But I did. At least, I was laughing at the ones that weren't mine. If it makes you feel less outraged, I was laughing on the inside. How could you not laugh? All of us suburban mommies had the same idea. Rainy day - bring the kid to the Leggo Land at the mall, let him/her run around in the enclosed area, maybe kill a few hours before lunch. Maybe it's not the most educational or intellectually stimulating thing I could be doing with my kid. But sometimes, getting him out of the house trumps cerebral development- especially on a day like this, when there is no end in sight to the rain. I promise tomorrow we will resume his Latin and elocution lessons.

As we walked the corridors of commerce, I watched them. One by one ..sometimes two by two - depending on the level of fertility involved, the kids pulled up to the Leggo staging grounds. Single strollers, doubles, strollers with kids in them, strollers with one child in, and one running up ahead in joyful anticipation. The kids kept coming, little, sticky-faced lemmings following the crowd. I could see their happy mugs light up at the sight of the intoxicating primary colors. RED! BLUE! YELLOW!

And each of them met with the same shocking realization that we did. Friggin' Leggo Land was CLOSED!!

CLOSED!!

And IT IS NOT OPENING AGAIN!!

EVER!

At least, that's what the not-so-enthusiastic sales clerk at the Leggo store said. Although the Leggo playground was closed, the companion Leggo store was conveniently open to take our money. The clerk didn't look too upset about the playground's demise. What he did look upset about, was the fact that we all descended upon the store en masse to demand answers. And when none were forthcoming, we unleashed the toddlers upon the in-store merchandise to pillage to their hearts content. The store became the playground, the battlefield, including all the choke-inducing miniscule leggo pieces scattered about in display bins. Leggo peices on the store floor, are apparently not subject to the rules of "clean up time."

Close Leggo Land without advance notice? Take that Mr. "It's not going to open again." You heartless tyrant.

Naturally though, Little Monkey had no interest in the Leggo peices that were available to play with on the cute Leggo sit down tables. He wanted to play with the balls. Of course. Balls. What balls, you ask? He wanted the huge display bin of lime and emerald green balls that took up the entire front window case. Right at his eye level, they proved to be remarkably mesmerizing. They called out to him.

But, as I found out. They were not for sale. They were not to be played with either.

Howling ensued, as we quickly departed the Leggo land store.

Did we go on safari? (And 50% off sale!!!)



No, we hit the mall carousel.



woo-hoo!

Fun is what you make of it.

PS- This lengthy delay in posts and pics, brought to your courtesy of Blogger. You get what you pay for, people.