First Time for the Coolest Pole in Florida

After a day of rain and two days of catching some rays on our collective royal paleness, DJ, Roxie, and I decided to spend the morning at the Gulfarium – a local “marine show aquarium” housed in a bright aqua building immediately off the highway and located next to a giant nightclub/shopping complex. Although we were told by numerous advertisements for the Gulfarium that we would “find our smiles” and have “splashtastic fun,” the establishment was next to a marquee announcing “Safe Sex Mondays: All Sex Drinks Half Price!,” so our expectations were low. In fact, we were fully anticipating a crusty, yellowed tank filled with green water and housing a single surly dolphin swimming in circles – possibly with tattoos and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. But, much to our most pleasant surprise, the Gulfarium was actually pretty darn splashtastic.

We arrived just in time to do a lap around the underwater viewing windows in the dolphin tank and take our seats before viewing the first of three trained animal shows they offer – the “Dolphin Show,” the “Sea Lion Show,” and the “Multispecies Show” that features, well, dolphins AND sea lions. We were so excited to show Roxie all these things because she is really into animals and loves anything to do with water, and as any good parents, we hurried to get a front row seat. And man, what a show. They had dolphins that did flips. They had dolphins that sang. They had dolphins catching footballs. They had a guy put a fish in his mouth and the dolphins would jump and grab it. I know all this because I heard them talking about all this as I chased Roxie in circles around the perimeter of the tank. Like a proper one-and-half-year-old, she could have cared less about the stupid dolphins. Her favorite part of the show was the cool pattern on a bench we found as I was trying to forcibly carry her back to her seat.

Likewise, Roxie’s favorite part of the sea lion show was the awesome metal pole next to the tank that was covered with bolts. The sea lions walked on their flippers, balanced a ball on their nose, and did little dances, but who needs that? Roxie had definitely found the coolest pole in all of Florida. We didn’t even attempt to take her to the Multispecies show. DJ was kind enough to take her while I watched the performance and got to witness my first live all-male dolphin-sea lion interspecies kiss.

All in all, we had a lot of fun at the Gulfarium. More importantly, we were reminded of one of the key lessons of parenthood: If you give a kid a gift, the funnest part in the box it came in. Let ‘em have fun with the box. Likewise, forget the sea lion show. Have fun watching your kid discover the wonders of a bolt-covered pole.

First Time for Being Down with OPP

So this past Friday was my last day working for the proverbial man – for a while, any way – and in order to both detox and be good stewards of our dwindling funds, DJ, Roxie, and I decided we should head to the beach for a family trip while I’m still earning money from my unused vacation days. We found a pretty cheap place at Fort Walton Beach, and yesterday we excitedly hauled ourselves and our crap down here for one whole week of surf, sun, and sand.

It’s been a while since I’ve been to the beach in Florida (I think the last time was a high school spring break where we all got drunk on Zima, if that gives you some idea), and one thing I forgot about was the hilarious sights that occur between Atlanta and the Gulf coast. Unfortunately, we weren’t on the highway that features the alternating signs for strip clubs and admonishments from the Baptist church (“All Nude!” “Repent!” “All Nude!” “Repent!”), but we DID take the road that rolls through a little town called Opp, Alabama. If you, too, are of an age when you drank Zima on a high school spring break, you will already be singing the song “O.P.P.”. I’ve been singing it for two days straight. And I’m proud to say that, before this trip is over, I think Roxie will definitely be able to sing it, too.

In fact, that may be a project of ours. Because I can tell you, it’s a bit of shock to the system to go from the chaotic last days of a busy job to lazy beach world. DJ and I are highly untrained at doing nothing. Today, we got up and drank coffee on the beach, changed into our bathing suits, swam in the ocean, swam in the pool, built sandcastles, drank a beer, napped, changed into new bathing suits, swam in the ocean, swam in the pool, built more sandcastles, and watched four consecutive episodes of Yo Gabba Gabba – and discovered it was roughly 12:37 p.m. At one point, we wondered if time was moving backward. Ok, ok, it’s a wonderful problem to have, I know, but when you are showered, dressed, and ready to go to dinner at 4:30 p.m., a week at the beach can seem a bit intimidating. I have decided I must work harder to kill the brain cells that still have the urge to spreadsheet.

With that said, however, I must report a lovely first in Roxie’s life (other than being subjected to the song “O.P.P”) that has brought this trip and our new world order into sharp focus. Last night, we kept the kiddo up late so we could walk on the beach. For the first time, Roxie took off her shoes and walked under her own power to put her feet in the ocean. Now, the past week has been a stressful one: I’ve cried out of sadness. I’ve cried out of frustration. I’ve cried because I miss my mom. But last night, I got to cry because I watched my husband and Roxie stand with their feet in the ocean and expressions of absolute joy on their faces. You down with O.P.P.? Yeah, you know me.

Waffles from a Spray Can: A Quick Addendum

It seems that the spray can waffles were more pervasive than I thought, and there have been quite a few new developments on this front that I felt compelled to share.


1) My good buddy Jean emailed me today from Boston to let me know that she spotted the Batter Blaster in that bastion of all things healthy, Whole Foods. Now, I know they're organic, but did they miss the memo that this is BATTER that SPRAYS from a CAN? I mean, I'd think that's basically the most unholy delivery device there is when you look at it from a natural foods perspective. Nonetheless, I present the photographic evidence. Good work, Jeanerz.




2) My good buddy Jesica emailed me to tell me that she thought she saw somewhere that the Batter Blaster actually got the Goodhousekeeping Seal of Approval. In order to verify this, I thought I'd see if I could find a Web page for Batter Blaster -- and boy did I ever. On the home page not only do they have an awesome jingle that plays as soon as you connect AND a demo video, there is also a graphic for a special offer on Batter Blaster for "Fans of the John Tesh Radio Show." There is also a link to where the Batter Blaster was demonstrated on Regis and Kelly.

Please, enjoy for yourself at www.batterblaster.com.

All I can say is, although I have not confirmed the Good Housekeeping thing one way or the other, all of you John-Tesh-listening, Whole-Foods-shopping, Regis-and-Kelly-watching folks out there are more than welcome to my last can of Batter Blaster. In this house, we're eating the Bisquick kind.

First Time for: Musical Genius

I know every parent thinks their kid’s a genius. But my kid? I’m telling you, she’s a freaking genius.

Early in Roxie’s life, when I was multitasking at my desk, I would put on some internet clips of the Muppets to keep the kiddo entertained. Now I grew up on the Muppets and Sesame Street, and for some reason, I am obsessed with the mumbling characters. Beaker, the Swedish Chef, Animal, the Martians that say “yep yep yep yep yep yep” … all I can say is if all you get in the spectrum of dialogue are unintelligible, monosyllabic grunts and you still make it funny, that's some good writin'. Anyhow, as a result of this obsession, I found two outstanding clips: one is a video of Beaker singing “Ode to Joy,” and the other is a video of Gonzo leading a group of chickens in a rousing rendition of “The Blue Danube.”

Now I have a special place in my heart for “The Blue Danube” and a few other classical pieces because my dad always had a tape of classical music in the console of his 1986 Audi 5000. This tape was mainly used for one purpose: on family trips we would pull up next to people who had their radio turned up loud and car windows open and crank the holy heck out of OUR radio to drown out whatever they were listening to with high volume classical music. Being from the suburbs, we found this hilarious. In fact there was one incident I remember where my dad actually peeled out as we blared “Ride of the Valkyries” at a stop light. Anyhow, I have fond memories of the Blue Danube, and we’ve ended up playing that particular video quite a bit for Roxie.

So here’s where the genius part comes in: after 10,000 or so exposures, the kiddo has now begun to sing these songs to herself … in the voice of Beaker or the chickens respectively. I’ll be in the other room, and all of a sudden, I’ll hear not just singing, but “Meep meep meep meep” to the tune of “Ode to Joy.” If that’s not proof enough of genius – and it clearly is – if you sing the main part of “The Blue Danube” (duh duh da dah daaaaa….) Roxie will finish the phrase (duh duh, duh duh), most often, as a chicken. Are you listening Harvard admissions? Genius, I tell you!

Anyhow, here’s a short piece of video evidence of the kiddo doing her thing. She’s tired, so she’s blabbering rather than clucking, but I defy you to tell me that’s not “The Blue Danube.” Now, if we could only channel this skill into cash without selling her outright to the Disney corporation …

First Time for: Waffles from a Spray Can

My lovely and talented daughter, Roxie, has been on the planet for just over 13 months now, and she has already had a lot of cool firsts: her first steps (at 10 months), her first words (“apple”, “dada”), and her first birthday (complete with a giant pink cupcake). What’s really cool, though, is that there are tons of things she has yet to experience, which means she is poised to have, quite literally, a first time for nearly everything.

As a responsible parent, there are lots of firsts I hope to encourage ­– first day of school, first job, first million – but with nearly everything on the table as first, why stop with the standards? This is why I am proud to share a Roxie first from today that truly no child should be without: her first time consuming waffles administered from a spray can.



This experience came to us as a result of a trip to our local warehouse club, a place that I admit often triggers the worst of my impulse-buy instincts. As we were cruising the refrigerated section, I just happen to notice what I thought was a three pack of bulk spray whipped cream (something I would consider buying on general principle), but instead discovered a product called the “Batter Blaster,” which was three extremely large spray dispensers of organic pancake and waffle batter shrink-wrapped together. Although one would think that the pro-organic folks would frown upon a product that shares a format with a foodstuff such as spray cheese, apparently this got the okay and was in such high demand that people need to buy canisters three at a time. Needless to say, I was intrigued.

I contemplated for a second, thinking about who would need this technology, and decided that I could hardly let Roxanne live in a world where such a product existed without having her experience it for herself. I also noted that the three-pack bore an expiration date of February, which meant, really, that this was an investment in my future. Thanks to the Batter Blaster, I would not have to trouble with milk and eggs for two whole months while we were dining on pancakes and waffles extruded magically from a can. When I used this argument on my husband, he rolled his eyes and said “at least it HAS an expiration date,” and threw it in the cart.

I can sum up our experience with the Batter Blaster this way: this was both the first time and the last time Roxie will be eating spray can waffles. Although the technology delivered, the end result was a rubbery, slightly chemical-flavored waffle that fell far short of my high expectations. This could have been due to the organic ingredients, I admit, but I think it safe to say that batter just ain’t right when it comes from a spray can. Of course, Roxie and the dog both thought these waffles were worth having, but given that they both live on a diet consisting mostly of ground up goop, I hardly trust their palates.

In the end, we did have some net gain: we achieved a proud first for the tiny daughter, and we learned to scratch this particular product off our grocery list. Now, does anyone need a bulk-sized cans of spray waffle batter? We’re down to our last two.