Spa Dayaway

Some of the Mommies and I just returned from a whirlwind trip to the Spa at the Norwich Inn, in Norwich Connecticut. We packed into Dana's new urban assault vehicle, which seats 7 but only if all 7 people plan to wear today's clothes tomorrow, go commando in the pool and hot tub, and use the hotel's toiletries. Since this was my virgin spa excursion and I didn't get the memo about packing light I brought the most crap, but somehow we were able to squeeze in all of our snacks, belly-dancing attire, books, magazines, beverages, and pj's, and we were on our way.

The trip went off without a hitch until we reached Route 9, when Nancy the Navigator assured us that we should take the more scenic Route 20 instead of the Mass Pike. Personally I like taking the scenic route. Now I know how to get to Sparky's Gun Shop and the adjacent Toy/Lingerie/Video store and Yummy Chinese take-out place. As we (finally) flew down 395, Nancy messed with our heads again by telling us to exit the highway 18 miles before our destination. I could have sworn that the Google directions said the spa was only 2 miles from Route 395, but who am I to dispute Nancy? So over the river (via the Butt Bridge) and through the woods we went. Gia and I felt right at home, having grown up in New Hampshire and Vermont, and we tried to keep the ladies occupied with our tales of bucket rings and other backwoods customs. By about the 12th mile through Connecticut's version of Appalachia, patience started wearing thin, which made our arrival at the spa that much more festive.



We went for a quick lunch in one of the inn's restaurants, but "quick" in spa-time is similar to "kimagamaga" in Africa-time. We finished and got down to the spa just in time to don our robes and go to our first treatment. As we waited around the pool, a completely bald man (who reminded me so much of one of my competitors, Scott Tobias) called my name. The massage therapists were at least 95% female so I wasn't expecting a rub-down from Ken, but I recovered quickly and followed him to a small dark room. The next hour was pure bliss, and eventually I stopped thinking about Scott Tobias working the kinks out of my back. (Jenny - Ken didn't actually use his bald head during the massage and hopefully it was too dark for him to see that I kept smiling while thinking about telling you that he did.)

My second treatment was a facial with Rhonda. Luckily Rhonda didn't remind me of any hardware people. Another small dark room, another heated table - very cocoonlike and relaxing. Part of the facial was a hand treatment, where she lathered up my hands and put them into heated oven mitts which were connected together like hot handcuffs. Rhonda relaxed me with several layers of creams and eucalyptus-infused hot towels, and then after putting on the handcuffs and sticking cotton pads on my eyes to catch the tears, she flicked on the spotlight, pulled out her gardening trowel and started digging stuff out of my pores. After the torture she soothed me with more lotions and towels and an upper-chest massage, so I didn't report her obvious blackhead-fetish to the manager.

We spent some time in the steam room which helped drain my completely congested head so I was slightly less miserable. After a little relaxation around the pool (the Relaxation Room would have put me to sleep for hours), we checked into our rooms to read, jump on the beds, drink Lana's black apricot-infused vodka, and eat junk food until the wine tasting. At the wine tasting we hooked up with the Needham Mommies and had an altercation with the inn's butler when we started rearranging furniture. After we loaded up on wine and cheese we went to belly-dancing class. The class was actually quite a workout and a lot of fun. Gia took top honors…I'm pretty sure she has one of the little coin-skirts and an instructional video at home. After class we had a couple more hours for junk food and bed gymnastics before dinner.










The spa offers a "silent dinner" (WTF?) but we opted for the standard seating so we could eat, drink, and be merry. Dinner was delicious but again, we were on spa time, so by the time our entrees arrived Gia was sleeping on my shoulder and we had exhausted all of our self-entertainment ideas including plate-balancing and drink-mixing. We had a very patient waitress (Kristen) who supplied us with register tape for Dana and Gia's bathroom bowling, and honored Lana's coupon for a free entree. We rolled ourselves up to our rooms and hit the hay. The room Jenny and I shared had one queen-sized bed but the only time she touched me was when I woke up having a choking fit and she gave me a few pats. Unfortunately I kept her up most of the night with my coughing, which I slept through. (Sorry Jenny!)
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On the drive home today we used the old-fashioned method of reading signs to find our way, and we arrived home in no time. I walked in the house and went directly to bed for 4 hours, which is why I'm still awake to post this. It was a great time and I can't wait to do it again. I can honestly say that I haven't laughed that much in years. Send me some pics, ladies!

For some reason, this video of Pam doing a bed-roll (which is one of the two videos clean enough to post) cracks me up. I think it's because of the hysterical laughing.


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Here's a video of belly dancing class (the darkness adds to the *mystique*):
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More Spa Photos! (Thanks Lana!)

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Homemade Ice Cream

The kids have been clamoring to try out one of our Christmas gifts - the LL Bean Play & Freeze Ice Cream Maker. When I hit the outlet for the 50%-off kids' stuff sale, I bought the mega-size ball which makes a quart of ice cream. The marketing pitch is that it makes ice cream without electricity so you can take it camping, which I guess is true as long as you have plenty of space to stow it and an unlimited supply of ice.

I convinced Ben that our two measley ice cube trays wouldn't be enough and sent him out for a bag of ice while I mixed the ingredients - cream or half-and-half, sugar, vanilla, and for our recipe - chopped Hershey kisses. I packed one end of the ball with ice and kosher salt (rock salt is recommended and we were fresh out) and poured the cream mixture into the other end.

The kids rolled it around for about 10 minutes and then I took over when they lost interest. I had to reload it with ice a couple of times so I'd recommend having 2 bags of ice on hand if you use the mega-size ball (there's also a smaller ball that makes a pint of ice cream). It took quite a bit longer than the directions stated, but after about half an hour there was actually ice cream in there! It was a little soft but it hardened up when I stuck the leftovers in the freezer. There was plenty for the 6 of us and it was really good. And if nothing else it was a clumped Norah's rainbow sprinkles together so she could shovel them into her mouth.

4 1/2 stars!! If I can teach Annie to roll it around I'll give it 5!
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Aliya's Winter Pageant

As some of you already know, I'm easily thwarted. I've had a hard time transferring videos from my camcorder to the computer, so I've procrastinated on this post even though I know that a 5-year-old friend of mine is anxiously waiting to see it.

Here you are Anna!



And here's Aliya (the cute blond 3 kids to her left is *JAMES*):

I DON'T WANT SOCKS!!!

If you're thinking about buying socks for Adlani's next birthday, he doesn't want socks. Or underwear. Or pajamas. You may want to steer clear of clothing in general. And if you're thinking that we haven't taught our son any manners, A) He's 4, and B) We've got to have SOME fun with this whole parenthood thing. By the time his college girlfriend takes him home to meet her parents, he'll be trained to graciously accept any gift. Even underwear.

Just the Facts, Ma'am

I dragged myself over to my neighbor Gina's house this morning so she could do my hair, and she asked me about something we talked about the last time I was there, which reminded me that I never posted it on the blog. It really freaked me out so it's definitely blogworthy.

A couple of months ago I was working at home and there was a loud knock at the front door. I opened the door to find a government-issue Taurus in the driveway and two special agents from the Department of Homeland Security. I was struck dumb. I couldn't think clearly. They started asking me questions about a family friend who came to visit months before. I couldn't remember his name or what month he was here. When I found my voice again I asked the agents what time it was and said that the school bus was due at 3:30 and that they could come with me if they wanted to. I guess you don't stop being a mom (or being hospitable) even when you're struck dumb.

Once the blood started circulating to my brain again I answered all of their questions. The kid is a college student in Canada. Yes, that's him in the photo. He is the son of my sister-in-law's brother-in-law. He was here for a week or two during his school break and then he went back to school. When? I don't know...it was cold out. Must have been winter. All he did when he was here was use his computer, watch TV, sleep, and eat. They asked some questions about Ben too. I've always thought that if you're honest and law-abiding you'll be fine, but I've lost some faith in our judicial system in the last couple of years. And you never know, Ben could be a secret agent.

The agents wrote everything down in their official notebooks, gave me their cards, and asked me to call them with the kid's address and phone number. I immediately called Ben and tracked down the info, and then called the agent back. I asked him if I had done something wrong by inviting the kid to come for a visit and he said, "If I thought you did something wrong it would have gone down a lot different at your house." That statement leaves a lot to the imagination.

We finally heard from the kid a couple of weeks ago and the issue was that when he returned to Canada he was supposed to turn in a white card at Immigration. Apparently he didn't do that, so they came looking for him. He took it to the embassy and he's all set, but I'm still amazed that the Department of Homeland Security has the resources to go looking for a college kid who didn't turn in a card. Maybe it was just because he's a young Muslim man. In the old days everyone used to come here on tourist visas, overstay their visa and then figure out how to get legal. Times have changed.
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Story Time

I have pictures just like this of Aliya, but Adlani has never once set his action figures up classroom style and read them a story, or laid them out on dishcloths for nap. It must be a girl thing.



I had a chance to visit Adlani's class for an hour last week and his teacher, Maria, made him Estrella del Dia (Star of the Day) since I was there. It was so cool to see how Maria uses games, songs, and repetition to teach Spanish. I told her that I think I could even learn Spanish from her class. I learned about 15 words while I was there and I still remember them! When we picked Adlani up before vacation Ben brought him out without his boots and snowpants, so Aliya and Ben went back into the school to look for them. Maria was still there and she and Aliya carried on a conversation in Spanish about the missing snowpants and boots. Ben was blown away. He hasn't really heard Aliya converse in Spanish with a Spanish-speaker. I told him (AGAIN) that if he had been talking to her in Arabic she'd be fluent in that too. Oh well.


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Christmas Tradition

As I said in a much earlier post about the "no peeing" sign, when Aliya asks me a question, I usually answer it very honestly because I always want her to come to me with her questions. But nobody's perfect, right?

When we were putting up the Christmas tree Ben cooked a beef tenderloin for dinner. When we took it out of the package it turned out to be two long skinny pieces of beef that had been marinated. Aliya was like, "Ew! What's that?!" I told her that it was cow tongue. She said that she didn't like cow tongue and I told her that it's a Christmas tradition that I always cook cow tongue when we put up the tree. She said, "Did I eat it last year?" I assured her that she did and promptly forgot all about it. I guess she must have eaten it because I didn't notice her hiding it under her broccoli or feeding it to the dog.

A couple of weeks later we were on the way to school and she started talking about traditions. I think they had been talking about them in class. She said, "I know one of our traditions! We always eat cow tongue when we're putting up the Christmas tree!" I laughed so hard. The poor thing. I hope she didn't throw that one out during the class discussion.
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Libbypalooza

I can't believe this. I was doing end-of-year cleaning on the blog and I found a draft of a post about our annual weekend at camp with Rob, Sherry, and the kids! I still can't believe that I never posted these pictures but I've searched the posts and I guess I never completed it. I'm sorry guys!!!

Written in September:

I've finally recovered sufficiently from the 2nd annual Libderrazak weekend at camp to post the photos. Actually...considering that we packed 11 people and a dog into 600 square feet for 4 days, there were only a few minor altercations and nobody threw up this year which is a definite improvement over last year. The kids did a lot of fishing and kayaking, the grown-ups mostly sat around and drank sangria. For me the highlight of each day was R & R...rest and reading. We had a really fun scavenger hunt which was won by the all-male team of Jarrod, Adlani, and Ben. Ben learned all about nature, like what moss and ferns are and where to find worms. It was a great time and yes...you can come back next year!
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