Welcome to Wherever You Are

My mom has a small blow-up pool, where my kids and I go almost every day after work.  My boys have invented an adorable game, which they like to call “Lost Boy”. 

The game goes like this:  both boys walk to the opposite side of the pool from my mom and I, then the oldest places his arm around the youngest, and says, “are you a lost little boy?”. 

“I a wost boy”, his brother replies, and the oldest leads him to me, or my mother, and says, here’s your lost little boy. 

“What’s your name?”, we ask the toddler.  “Wost boy”, he says.  Then he hugs us, goes over to the other side of the pool, and we do the whole thing again.  It’s adorable.

Today I begged them to play, “Wost Boy”.  After I had asked multiple times, my oldest said, “Mommy, we’ve retired from playing that.”

Because J and I both haven’t been at our jobs long enough to earn any real vacation time yet, we have decided to use a small part of our economic stimulus check to take a weekend mini-vacation to Holiday World later this month.  In researching our trip, I discovered that they have many of the same type of rides as my beloved, now-defunct, Opryland, and I am thrilled that I will be able to share this with my children. 

Our youngest is 2, he will be 3 in August, and is small for his age, so I mentally prepared myself to be okay with spending $40 to get myself in the door so that I could spend the day watching him frolic at Rudolph’s Reindeer Ranch.  I know that as a parent you have to do those kind of things, but I want to have some fun too! 

Perusing the Holiday World website, I discovered that, to ride most of the family-oriented rides, a child has to be 36″ tall.  I brought out the trusty yardstick to see how my little one would measure up, and here are the results:

(picutre a toddler boy, blonde wavy hair, brown eyes, standing behind a yardstick, which comes up to the top of his head, grinning.  I tried 3 times to insert said picture, and I failed to do so, 3 times.  I’m giving up)

36.5″ tall, in his bare feet!  Hallelujah!  Looks like we won’t be needing those platform shoes afterall. 

It’s not your imagination, my posts are indeed disappearing. 

The more I think about the whole, blogging about work thing, the more I think it’s a very bad idea. 

When I first started my blog, I was alright with it.  I was still at old job at the time, and I didn’t worry about getting fired by the owner if I was found out, but times have changed.  I am no longer employed by a small family-owned business where they know me personally.  I am now part of a huge corporation, where I am defined by my social security number rather than my name.  I don’t know if blogging about the events that happen at my current job, good or bad, is allowed, so I’m going to err on the side of caution and not do it.  Jobs in general are hard to come by, and this is a good one that I don’t want to lose.

So, I”ve lost about 25 pounds courtsey of the new job, which has allowed me to do some things I have never done, or haven’t done in a long time.  First, I have some clothes in a pile for Goodwill, which is not unusual, however, instead of these clothes being donated due to being too small, I’m giving away clothes that are too big.  I’ve never done that before. 

Secondly, I am wearing t-shirts with only 1 X in front of the L.  I also no longer own, “skinny jeans”, because I can wear my former skinnies. 

My proudest moment came last week in Wal-Mart, when I tried on a pair of shorts in the regular women’s section, and glory be, they fit.  Sure they’re a size 18, the biggest size in the women’s section, but they weren’t in the plus sized section.  I can’t remember the last time I shopped out of the plus section.  It had to be at least 5 years ago.  I’m estatic. 

I discovered this evening that my new pastor, who I’ve yet to meet, is a blogger too.  In fact, he’s twice the blogger that I am.   

I have spent the last 30 minutes reading his entries on both blogs, and am now forcing myself to quit and go to bed. 

I also discovered that he is currently residing in the same tiny Alabama town where my 2nd favoirte singer (Brad Cotter) hails. 

Maybe this new adventure won’t be the end of the world after all! 

My kids play church league t-ball every Monday night.  The exit from the ball field is straight through a playground, where we usually end up spending as much time as we do on the ball field. 

Tonight, while my sons were playing with their teamates, as well as other children, I observed my eldest son, who’s 5,  swat another child gently on the leg.  I couldn’t see who was on the recieving end of his slap, but I assumed it was his teamate, “Glen”, who is the son of his babysitter.  The two boys were born 2 days apart, and have been together daily since the tender age of 6 weeks.  They are alot like brothers. 

A few moments later, I heard my son crying, and Glen yelling, “that boy punched him” and pointing to a boy who was running swiftly back to the bleacher area.  I noticed the fleeing boys shoes, and concluded that he was the one my eldest swatted earlier.  I wondered if his punch was some kind of retaliation. 

After quizzing my son and Glen about the events leading up to the punch, I found out that the boy had been bullying them since they came to the playground.  Up until this point, because of the age of my children, our only bully experience has been reading about them in the Mercer Mayer Little Critter classic, “Just A Bully”. 

I found out that this particular, much older bully had been blocking the slide, poking and pushing the 5 year olds.  The tales told by several parents sitting near us, painted a picture of a severe problem child, who drops the f-bomb regularly in his 2nd grade class.  I also heard stories of his parents, and the frequency of police visits to their home, and stories of the child playing in the busy road on a regular basis for years.  As my own son’s eye was turning black, and a small cut left by the bully’s fingernail appeared underneath his eye, I began feeling sympathy for not only him, but also for the bully, who honestly didn’t know any better.

Nevertheless, as parents, my husband and I weren’t about to let the incident go.  We walked over to the boy and his mother and explained to her what happened.  The boy verified his actions, was reprimanded by his mother, and they both apologized to our son and us. 

In the end, my son got his first shiner at a church league T-ball game, which seems crazy.  The following Tim Wilson gem keeps going through my head every time I think of it:

Church League Softball Fistfight
Gettin’ washed in the blood on a Tuesday night
What would Jesus do? Lord he wouldn’t do that
Knock the hell out of a preacher with a softball bat

(There’s more, I just can’t find the complete lyrics online.) 

My sister can’t keep a secret to save her life.  She was one of the first people I told when I found out I was preggers with the oldest, and when I announced it to the family, most of them weren’t surprised, as she had beaten me to the punch. 

However, sometimes her inability to remain mum can benefit me, as it did this very morning.  It seems she and the brother-in-law were visiting our parents last night, when my mom let slip that she and dad are planning a family vacation next summer.  For all of us.  To visit, as one of my co-workers used to say, “The big rat.” 

We’re going to Disney World.  I’m so excited!

I have always been cursed with gross feet.  They were scaly, dry, rough, and, well………nasty.   I hated wearing sandals.  I yearned to get a pedicure, but feared I would have to pay the technician at least double the going rate. 

I tried alot of things to relieve my problem.  In my bathroom closet I have a plethora of lotions, scrubs, and assorted tools to remove the rough scaly skin from one’s feet.  None of them were successful in making my feet look any better.  At one point, after reading in some magazine that dry scaly skin can be the result of untreated athlete foot, I bought some ointment for said affliction.  No success. 

So, I recently purchased a PedEgg, without very high expectations, and am plesantly surprised with the results.  My big toe looks skinner without that big callous on the side, and my feet are so much smoother. 

 I still have a long way to go to make my feet pretty, but they are looking much better. 

Today, I had a rare Saturday off.  In fact, it was the fist one since I took the job.  We spent it taking the kids to get haircuts, going to the library, out to eat, visiting my grandparents, and doing a little shopping.

The husband is still having headaches.  He’s had a headache for over 3 weeks now, and his doctor, in her infinite wisdom, decided to put him off work until they can figure out what’s wrong.  They still haven’t found out what’s wrong. 

 As if going through a multitude of tests, medicines, and doctor’s visits without health insurance isn’t enough, now we’re doing it on one income, mine, which can be sometimes sporadic. 

The hubby can’t even watch the kids while I work to save us a little on childcare because of the pain, and the fact that even the smallest thing sets him off nowdays.  ANYTHING.

So today, when he cursed at me, using the 2 worst words, in the middle of a public place, it was my turn to blow my top.  I informed him that he probably has a brain tumor, because he’s like Jekkyl and Hyde, and to keep throwing that F-bomb around, because that’s the only f-ing that’s going to be going on between the 2 of us.   

I guess everything’s just getting to me, my work situation, his medical situation, the economy, everything.  If it weren’t for the boys, I don’t know if we would make it through this still married.

Wow!  I need one of Moonbeam’s depression alerts on this thing.   

I love theme parks!  The first park I ever remember attending is the now-defunct Opryland theme park in Nashville, TN.  I was 5 years old, and my mom and I went with a group from our church.  I made my super-pregnant mom ride the “Little Deuce Coupe”, a teacup-type ride, with me so many times that she eventually vomited in the trash can at the exit.  

After that first trip, we made the journey to Opryland multiple times each summer.  At a travel time of 2 hours it was an easy day trip, and I had an aunt that lived in Nashville, (read: free room and board), which allowed for a few imprmptu family reunions, and group trips to Opryland.  

On one occasion, my parents allowed me to go to Opryland with my grandparents and cousin.  Grandma prefered the shows, and only rode one ride, the train, while the tastes of my cousin and I were more fast-paced.  After much nagging,  we were allowed, me at age 7, and her being all of 12, to roam the park minus adult supervision.  I was still a pretty big wussy at that point, so the most exciting ride that I dare was the Dulcimer Splash (log ride). 

While I prefered the rides, I also enjoyed the shows as a small child.  My preference was for the magic show, and I remember my dad being picked from the audience to assist with a trick.  It involved the illusion that his finger was to be chopped off.  Even at a small age, I was an eternal pessimist, and I was terrified that, through some error on the part of the magician, he would emerge from the trick sans index finger. 

Another favorite from my childhood was the Angle Inn.  It was a house that you walked through, and everything was slanted.  I remember my mom not allowing me to have a lollipop in my mouth when we went through it, for fear that I would fall and the stick would become lodged in my throat.  (I’m starting to see where I get my anxiety from).   The park was in an unfortunate situation to be landlocked, and eventually, the Angle Inn was demolished to make room for a new attraction.  The Tin Lizzies, as seen below, suffered the same fate several years later. 

The turning point in my Opryland experience happened when I was 10 years old.  We attended the park again as part of a bigger church group.  My friend Laura came along, and at her prodding, I finally dared ride the Wabash Cannonball.  Prior to that time I had only been brave enough to ride the Rockin Roller Coaster, and was terrified of the Wabash due to it’s 2 upside-down loops.  I mentally pictured myself falling out of my harness and pummelling headfirst towards the ground during one of the loops.  There’s nothing like a double dare to make you overcome your fears. 

I loved it, and from that point on, I was up for the full Opryland experience.   Each subsequent trip became an adventure, with me trying my hand, and stomach, on every thrill ride on the park map.  Opryland became even more exciting when I became a teenager, and was deemed old enough to enjoy the park with a group of peers without an adult supervising our shennanigans.  I recall one youth group trip, on which, armed with my pink LeClick camera, my female friends and I were on a mission to snap photos of the 12 hottest guys there for a proposed calendar.  Good times……..

During my high school years, I spent many a Saturday in Opryland with various church groups, school clubs, and occasionally my own family.  I can’t say that I had a favorite ride, I had many favorite rides, all for different reasons.  I loved the “Little Deuce Coupe” and the “Rockin’ Roller Coaster”, because they were the first rides we went to after entering the park.  To me, they symbolized the end of a long road trip, and the beginning of a fun-filled day, and they both had short lines. 

I also loved Chaos, another roller coaster, which was enclosed in a metal building, and was rode in almost complete darkness. 

I loved the water rides, such as The Old Mill Scream, Grizzly River Rampage, and the Dulcimer Splash, for cooling off on a hot summer day, and I loved the Tennessee Waltz swings for drying out when I got a little too drenched on the water rides. 

I don’t specifically remember the last time I attended Opryland.  It had to be the summer of 1995 or 1996, and I’m sure that time was as exciting as the other dozens of times I went there.  I do know that I waited in line for hours, to ride the park’s newest attraction, the Hangman roller coaster, and that I had no idea that would be the last time I would go to one of my favorite places on Earth. 

In the fall of 1997, after the park closed for the season, it was announced that the park would close permanently.  The company that owned it had opted to build a mall at the site, which would attract tourists year around, rather than just a few months out of the year.  The annual Christmas event, which I never attended, was marketed as the public’s last chance to see the rides in all their glory.  To the chagrin of many, several of the rides were already being dismantled when they came to see them one last time. 

There was no final season, no chance for one last train ride, show, game, or slice of pizza in Do-Wah-Ditty City, where you could relish it, and know that you could never experience it again.  

At the time of the announcement, I was apathetic about the situation.  I was in a location about the same distance from a 6 Flags, as I had been to Opryland, so I knew I had somewhere else to “get my thrill on”. 

It’s closure wasn’t widely publicized, and many a tourist still flocked to Nashville for their annual trip to Opryland the next summer only to find it gone.  My family and I joked that it was much like the one about the 2 blondes going to Disneyworld.  (They saw the sign that said, Disneyworld: Left, so they turned around and went home)  To this day, the hotel and Showboat still function under the Opryland name, and interstate signs still direct you to “Opryland”, which I personally feel is a disgrace. 

While as a youngster I may have acted nonchalant about the demise of Opryland, as an adult and mom, I long for it.  I would love to take my kids there, to share a spin  on the “Little Deuce Coupe”, to fly high on the Barnstormers, and share a funnel cake.

I frequent the mall that took it’s place, affectionately known as, “Shopryland”,  once or twice a year, and quite honestly, it’s not all that spectacular.  I seldom buy anything there,and even during the holiday rush it’s not all that crowded.  I think it was a bad corporate decision, and rumor has it, the company that sold it thinks so too.  The only reason we go to the mall at all is because it has a Bass Pro Shop and I am married to an avid sportsman.  Driving in the parking lot, I try to recall what was where, and it makes me feel like an old fogey.  Seeing the remains of the old Grizzly River Rampage, complete with the cave where a stuffed Grizzly once stood and scared the daylights out of me, gives me an empty feeling inside.  Someone in the memories of Opryland yahoo group said that it was like driving through a graveyard, and I agree. 

Who knows if Opryland would still be successful if it were still operating.  It was land-locked, making expansion difficult, and without progressing I can see how it would be hard to compete.  However, I have a hard time believing that the park was not making money, or that the mall has proven any more successful.

A mall, no matter how big and new, could never take the place of the magic that was Opryland, and not having a last chance to experience it hurts, even a decade later.  It may not have been the biggest or the best theme park, but to me it was perfect!

If you remember Opryland, the theme park that is, I would love to see your comments!