Why did someone throw up in the pool?

Excellent question from a 3 year old at the dinner table.

Z: They were probably sick and could not get out of the pool in time.
S: They were sick and couldn't get out of the pool to go home and throw up in the Tupperware.
Z: Exactly.
S: But why didn't they puke in the Tupperware? Why throw up in the pool?
Z: They were probably too sick, or didn't know they were sick.
S: Because you don't throw up in the pool. You throw up in Tupperware.

Cry me a pool

We're going up to the pool at Normandie Court for S's Friday afternoon swim class. People get on at the Penthouse level -- one level below Club Level where the pool is -- and ask us if we're going to the pool. S has her goggles in her Hello Kitty backpack and I have everything else she'll need for after class; towel, change of clothes, and snacks. Before I can say yes, one of the penthouse ladies says "The pool eez cloze."

Ding! The doors open to the Club Level. We check in at the reception desk and I'm told the pool is closed because someone threw up in it. I ask whether the Take Me to the Water people called the class participants to let them know of a)puke in the pool and b)rescheduling. Of course I know the reception chick is not part of TMTTW, but I gotta vent. She tells me that the barfing incident happened less than 10 minutes ago. Either she's full of it or news travels really, really fast at Normandie Court.

As we're walking down to the pool area, I tell S that the pool is closed because someone got sick in it. If you ask me, they should have scooped up the puke in a large garbage can, double the chlorine, and you're done. I mean how much puke could there have been. Was this person doing laps while puking so it's all over the pool? I hardly think a little bit of vomit should close down a 25 yard, 6 lane pool. But then again, I'm not the one with the swimsuit.

As we make our way to S's "coach", we're told 3 more time that the pool is closed. Thanks, thanks, thanks. I explain to S as we're going around the pool that the pool is closed and there is no lesson today. She says "aha" and keep on walking, holding my hand. We get to the coach and she also says that the pool is closed. While I'm asking what her schedule is so S can do the make-up classes (one from last week and this one) S is digging into her backpack. I know what she's doing, but there is no way for me to stop her. She gets to the goggles and pulls them out, showing them to coach with a triumphant smile. The coach repeats, as do I, that there is no class today because ....

The 15 seconds that it takes S to finally realize the ramification of the pool closure almost brought me to tears. I put down my Dunkin Donuts ice coffee to pick her up. The coach's attempt to console her by telling her that she can swim twice next week has no effect. "Ma-ma!" is all S can say. I walk away from the pool with her and try to get her out to the sun deck. She wants none of it. Not being familiar with Kubler-Ross, she's simply in "mama" stage.

I carry her out of the pool area on my bum knee and make it to what has now become our refreshment room upstairs. She's skipped Depression and thankfully is in Acceptance. No story is complete without a typical Hollywood happy ending. I call TMTTW and am told that the class is being rescheduled at a building a block away!!! Happy-happy, joy-joy!

Uplander update

I actually did more research on the Uplander and I'm sorry to say that it just will not do. 16 MPG city and 23 MPG on the Highway?!?!?! I'd need a second job just to pay for the gas on this sucker.

I guess I have to wait until 2010 when GM rolls out its first, um, "next generation" cars with better gas mileage. Not gonna happen.

I Don't KEA

We got the Kritter bed from IKEA over the weekend. We trekked out to Paramus, NJ in our lovely Chevy Uplander. Although I used to own a Chevy Beretta, I am a Euro car snob. Having traveled on business for a good part of 10 years, I have rented many cars, most of them American made. Except for a handful, I hated driving any car made by Detroit. I have to admit, though, that the Uplander minivan was quite comfortable. If it had a little more Japanese or European trimmings on the dash, it would be the perfect car for our LA lives.

On the other hand the IKEA experience, Swedish and all, pissed me off. The Kritter, like other beds from IKEA, uses slats to hold the mattress. I'm sure for some good reason, the slats are packed in a different box than the bed frame. Therefore, in order to purchase a COMPLETE, USABLE BED, you have to pickup 2 boxes from the "marketplace". This fact is not mentioned anywhere in the showroom nor in the warehouse, but it is on the website "SULTAN LADE slatted bed base is included in the price, but is packaged separately."

So when an unsuspecting shopper approaches the checkout counter with a single box marked Kritter Bed (with bar codes facing the cashier for quicker processing), shouldn't the fancy-shmancy computerized system flash some sort of idiot light letting the cashier know that there is a piece missing from the order?
"Warning: dumb customer forgot the slats"
"'Scuse me Jethro, you gotta pickup the slats if you're figuring to use this bed for sleeping purposes"

But, noooooo. We walk out quite happy with our non-functioning purchase and make the trek back into Manhattan, via the 125th Street McDonald's drive-thru.

The next morning as I begin to put the bed together with mt 3 year old, we get to step 6 where I'm supposed to lay the slats on the bed frame. Slats, slats. Where are the slats? So of course, the Paramus IKEA is closed on Sundays and we have to drive out to Elizabeth in our rental Uplander. The customer service number we get is 51 and they're serving #34. Fuck! Executive decision by MLW to pay $10 and get the slats (if sold separately) and not wait. She wisely gets a couple of hotdogs from the food court. As we load up the minivan, "Serving #42." Best 10 bucks ever spent.

I ask you, Ingvar Kamprad: Don't you think that purchasing a bed frame by itself would be a tad silly without being able to hold the mattress in place? I'm sure even in the small village of Agunnaryd in Sweden, people sleep on mattresses and a bed frame is not a decorative furniture item.

I'm going to be the customer from hell at my next visit to IKEA. "Does that chair come with legs or are those packed in a separate box?" "Are there 6 lightbulbs in this six-pack of lightbulbs?"

Vicious cycle resolved

Many parents of 6 month old babies can relate to this scenario: Your child is ready for solids and you begin by giving her rice cereal. This results in happy & proud parents, new experience for your baby, and often, constipation for your 6 month old. So for the next few days she pushes and squeezes that lump out of poop out. In the mean time parents are conflicted about feeding more solids for a growing baby and watching the poor thing struggle with digesting the cereal. You give her water, prune juice, and perhaps laxatives to help her out of the predicament.

The good folks at Earth's Best Organic, have come up with the perfect solution: Prunes with Oatmeal! What a great idea. Now you can feed your baby the oatmeal and counteract its unwanted side-effects. These guys are true MBA marketeers. Never has a company capitalized on such cross-over promotion. First you make a name for yourself an organic cereal company and then spin-off a product that helps you sell more of your products. This is on par with Mary Tyler Moore/Rhoda and All In the Family/Maude/ Jeffersons.

And let me tell you something: This shit works! No pun intended. Just a couple of days of serving this to our 8 month old and blamo! I've been thinking about double-bagging her just in case she has an extra spoonful without me knowing it. The DEA and US customs should use this stuff to "unpack" the mules smuggling drugs into the country. Administer one jar and wait 2-3 hours.

This is not a blatant plug of a product. I am not an actor and I really do use this product at home. I was inspired to post on my blog because I just finished the cleanup of this product's aftermath. Use at your own risk.

Post-op recovery

I had my first session of Physical Therapy (PT) last Wednesday. I'll be going 2 times a week for the next few weeks. My knee feels OK but gets tired easily. The therapist explained that any damage to the knee causes the thigh muscles (quadriceps) to "shut down" and PT is intended to awaken the muscle and build strength.

I have been doing PT at home at least once per day, sometimes twice. I'm supposed to do it 3 times, but have not been able to make the time. I'm able to bend my knee 120 degrees which is pretty good compared to my good knee (135 degrees). I do feel that my knee buckles from time to time when I'm walking but I'm told that will go away when the quad is stronger.

Life's lessons

I consider myself a student and love learning new things. Throughout life we are taught lessons, either by our elders or through experience. It's great to see my daughters learn new things and add to their repository of knowledge. With every passing day they absorb new information, process new material, and store them for future reference.

We all earn from good and bad experiences. For example, we quickly learn not to give our drooling baby a superman flight right above our own heads. Especially as we're looking up at them and yelling "Yeaaaah" with our mouths open. Even if you haven't done it, you can learn quite quickly from another parent's retelling of how they first tasted their child's saliva. The second time is when you kiss your baby's feet not realizing that they were in her mouth 2 seconds before you turned to look at her. Actually, I may have that in reverse order, but I'm sure the reader gets the idea.

Unfortunately for MLW and I, S has not been feeling well the past couple of days. Fever, sniffling, coughing, the works. We were awakened last night around 4am by her calling for "mama". I forced myself out of bed a split second before MLW and went over to see what was wrong. I brought her some milk and of course in the mean time G wakes up. While I was feeding G, S started calling for mama again and the ruckus made us feel like it was 4pm instead of it's nocturnal counterpart.

As I stated earlier, we learn many things throughout our lifetime, not knowing when we will use them. I'm sure there have been numerous party nights at college where I was up at 4am (perhaps even on a school night) drinking with friends and laughing on about an episode of The Young Ones. While feeding G, I was able to draw on one of those party nights, and quickly identify what I heard coming from S's room as the noise of someone puking.

While unable to see into the room, I imagined (correctly) that the projectile must have caused collateral damage outside of S's bedding. I put G down in our bed and reported for cleanup/consolation duty.
Initial Report
The blankets: direct hit!
Sheets: secondary damage, not salvageable.
PJ's: Need complete overhaul.
S: Wondering what came out of her mouth and excitedly telling me about it.
Conclusion: Sleepless night.
Supplemental Report
MLW: Trooper as always. Minor "shrapnel" on PJ's

We'll file this experience away in our brains as well. At least I now know that the drinking has not damaged all my brain cells. Although there's still time left on the clock.