How Much is a Red Firetruck Mall Stroller Worth to YOU?

Because I was wondering the same thing myself the other day when I passed by the red firetrucks of love that you can rent at the mall that my two little mens ogled over.

They gushed. They begged. They believed this was a slice of heaven on earth. They didn't say it. But I knew.

Then I looked at the $5 price tag as I walked by.

Five bucks to rent this germ trap? Really? Because they see a fantastic shiny red firetruck but all I see is a place where zillions of children have drooled before them and a vast empty space for germs to live and breed. No chance. No chance in hell. Sorry guys.

But then I found myself in a "situation." And my tune changed just a bit.

I was at the mall yesterday (again) to go to the Disney Store for a present, but I was with the two mens. And I had forgotten my stroller.

*Gasp*

This was not good.

So I thought about it.

I weighed my options.

And I came up with the answer.

$5 for the germ trap stroller? Or $1,000,000 in Disney Store damages?

Hmmmm.

Stroller it is.

Well the kids of course were over the moon, so we walked to the only place where the double-decker germ traps were located, which was across the mall at the entire other end and level than I had parked (of course) and I went to pay. And it didn't take my $5.

What?! Come on! 

I couldn't understand why.

Until I saw that it wasn't $5. It was 7! 7 bucks! Because it's $5 for the single and $7 for the double!

Ugh.

OK, fine. So then I bit my tongue and made an executive decision and put the damn card in already and rented it and as I pulled out the firetruck from its holder, I thought, "OK, this doesn't look so bad."

Because not only was there a HUGE basket underneath for my giant purse, there was a DOUBLE cup holder for a mommy beverage! Or two!

Things are looking up!  Hooray!

I wiped it down with a bunch of wipes and put the kids in and everyone was happy. Smiles everywhere! And mommy's going to get in and out of the Disney Store without incident!

Of course, then I find myself standing in line at the place that offers these delectable mommy beverages because I have to, since there are cup holders staring at me and I must put something in them. It would be practically rude not to.

But when all is said and done, we are now $11 into the mall trip and I hadn't even gotten to the Disney Store yet.

Yes, they're looking inside longingly. Sooo the point of the firetruck.

We finally get inside the Disney Store for what we went for, which was a Tinkerbell backpack for my cousin's daughter and some little trinkets for my kids who are about to go on back-to-back road trips. So I am in cohorts with the Disney Store lady and I'm handing her things to put behind the register so my children don't see them and I zip around one of the displays with my giant firetruck and CRASH!

I hear the lady gasp as this giant firetruck wheel smashes into the display's bottom shelf, which of course is glass, and all of the plastic princess dishes fall over. I lose all color in my face and the kids comment about the mess I just made. And then I begin to hate the firetruck again. This thing has a huge wingspan! I can't move anywhere! Its turning radius is ridiculous!

Have I mentioned that it is now past lunchtime and even the golden firetruck of love can't keep two toddlers from starving and yelling and begging for everything in the store? Again, I am sweating. And I have just destroyed a display. And I overhear the lady say to the other lady something about remembering about how "fun" it was to have a 3 year old. I'm pretty sure it was because I, with my firetruck and two screaming toddlers, jarred some spectacular memories.

The lady assures me it's all OK and she'll clean it up but I still feel like a jerk and think to myself that maybe if there were a super-giant firetruck that would fit all three of us that maybe we could have gotten out of there without breaking anything.

But let's face it. The firetruck was extremely useful for the two of them and for keeping them from destroying anything at least, which was its entire purpose after all and for that, I am grateful. Especially since we spent probably an hour in there and the only damage done was make a lot of noise and wreck a display and that wasn't even their fault, it was mine. Right?

Well, I learned on this day that a) this particular firetruck model should not be wheeled around in tight places; b) $7 is a small price to pay in certain situations like this one, where the emotional + physical toll could possibly be much greater and c) don't forget your stroller.

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How Much is a Red Firetruck Mall Stroller Worth to YOU?

https://babytealeaves.blogspot.com/2010/07/how-much-is-red-firetruck-mall-stroller.html

Rescue 911: Curious George Edition

The boy's a champ.

Runs for the potty, barfs up a lung and hops onto his motorcycle and zooms around the house like nothing even happened.

He's been doing this for almost a week now, and though it does appear to be getting better, we're staying home again today just in case (and yes, husband has saved the day and is taking a 1/2 day so I can go to the NICU baby shower, how awesome is he?! Love! More on that later...)

Meantime, I give you an episode of Rescue 911 at our house. (When you're indoors for a long time consecutively, these are the things you do.) (Ps. did you know my three-year-old was a firefighter?)

911: 911, what's your emergency?

Caller: Fend guck!
911: I'm sorry, I can't understand you. 'Friend guck?' Can you speak clearly? I can't understand you, sir.
Caller: FEND GUCK!
911: I still can't understand you, sir, can you speak into the phone?
Caller: (now crying) GUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!
911: Standby sir, I'm getting our Supervising Baby Translator on the line with us to help me understand what you're saying.

911 Baby Translator: Sir, what's your emergency?

Caller: FEND GUCK! FEND GUUUUUCK!

911 Baby Translator: OK, you say you have a "Friend stuck?" Can you confirm that for me please?

Caller: Es. Guck. Fend guck.

911 Baby Translator: OK, where is your friend located, sir?

Caller: Imbed. (Urgent wailing now.)

911 Baby Translator: OK sir, try to remain calm. You say he's stuck in the bed? We are sending units out to help you. Please stay calm and stay on the line.

Caller: (Inaudible.)

911 Baby Translator: Sir what are you doing now? Is your friend responsive?

Caller: No. Fend OUT. Fend OUT!

911 Baby Translator: Sir, please DO NOT try to remove your friend by yourself. We have units enroute. If you move your friend, it could result in further injury. PLEASE DO NOT MOVE HIM.

Caller: (Wailing).

911 Baby Translator: OK our units are arriving. Please stand by while our units assist your friend. Please remain calm.

911 Baby Translator: Sir?

Caller: (grunt)

911 Baby Translator: OK, sir, I am told that the responding units will be using the jaws of life, so please remain calm, everything will be ok. Are you there?

Caller: (silence.)

Caller: (more silence)

911 Baby Translator: Sir?

Caller: IP IP OOORAY!

911 Baby Translator: Sounds like your friend is out and everything's going to be ok! Sir? Sir? Anyone there?

(Silence.)

Yep, and, that was that. Oh how they move on quickly. I wonder how George is doing. Think I should send flowers?

Rescue 911: Curious George Edition

https://babytealeaves.blogspot.com/2009/11/rescue-911-curious-george-edition.html

The Red Light District

The Red Light District is in my bathroom.

At least 5 times a day, one of the two will go into the bathroom, stand on the stool and turn on the light. The red heat lamp light from the 80's that still resides in my bathroom. You can see which one does it right there.

The other inevitably follows and then there is a chant. Both of them yelling, "Teef! Teef! Teef! Teef!" until I get the toothbrushes out, put the toothpaste on them and then hand them their toofbrushes.

Where they will stand and brush their teef, happily I might add, for as long as I let them.

This would actually go on all day if I let it.

Not that I'm complaining. I am sure this phase will be short-lived and you better know I'm living it up baby!

Yeah, I'm pretty happy. Happy toofbrushers = happy mommy.

Unless it interrupts my blogging, of course. Just kidding. No I'm not. Yes I am! (Gawd!)

Anyhoo, it's a lazy Friday and I'm posting over at the Sisterhood today both here (Fugly Shoes) and here (Fitness Friday), so come on over!

The Red Light District

https://babytealeaves.blogspot.com/2009/08/red-light-district.html

A Day In the Life of a Firefighter

My three-year-old is a firefighter. I may have mentioned this a time or two.

He wears his fire gear everywhere. He has an unbridled confidence while wearing his gear, too. He is not pretending to be a firefighter. He is a firefighter. He knows he's cute and when people tell him he's cute, he blushes, turns away, and says, "I know."

I told him the other day that he was part Indian and he said, "No, Mom, I'm a firefighter."

Glad he cleared that up.

Of course I had to mess with him because I enjoy seeing the thought process of a very intense, passionate three-year-old firefighter. "You know, you're Irish, too."

"No I'm not! I'm a firefighter!"

"Did you know you could be an Indian firefighter?"

"No! I'M A FIREFIGHTER! YOU be the Indian!"

"OK! Well I AM an Indian. And so are you, just ask Mamnee!" (That's his name for "Grandma".)

So he goes on about his business (the topic was apparently exhausted and he had rendered it useless and moved on.) Five minutes later he's in the living room playing firefighters and indians with his 1 1/2 year old brother. Well that's a new one.

Over the year and a half that he's had his firefighter gear -- which consists of the outfit we bought last Halloween, the nearly unused boots he inherited from his cousin, and the really cool black fire chief hat with plastic eye maskguard thing -- you can imagine with daily wear and tear that it has all gone through the wringer.

It's all now in a sad state.

The pants have been pooped in (they are actually MIA right now, we've been searching for days...), the jacket's been in the mud on the playground at school because he's worn it to school, and the boots. Note to self: child must wear socks with boots or you will eventually see a green smoke (like from the cartoons) rising from the boot itself; the stench that is hours upon hours of sweaty three-year-old feet taking its toll upon it. Oh yes, it was bad.

Oh and the hat. My God the poor hat. It is scratched and the flimsy plastic film in the eyemask is in shambles with tape barely holding it all together. But he wears it proudly nonetheless. He puts it away in his closet along with the boots before bed and he wakes up in the morning and he already has on his hat and his boots as I hear him clunking through our bedroom door to say "Good Morning!"

So we're on round two of the firefighter gear. But it's not easy to find these things and it's not easy to live with them while they're all in shambles either! I swear with each rip of the hat's plastic, a little firefighter's soul rips and that is really hard to watch! Oh the agony he feels!

Finally after weeks of searching, I found new boots at Target and stinky boots are finally history. Thank God because if he wore them for just two minutes, a bath was required afterward. He is still thanking me for these new boots. He thanks me every day. Yeah, I'm a hero. (For once.)

And the fire hat is literally the coolest one in the world. And I'm not just saying that. I was hoping to replace it but I couldn't find it anywhere and the store where I bought it was closed.

Believe me, I've searched.

In true Mommy fashion, I searched for this hat online, for hours.

I finally found this thing through some store in Chicago which was selling it on Amazon and I bought TWO. One for Poops and one for the Mini. And by the way Poops asked me to officially stop calling him Poops. He was wondering if it was because he poops his pants.

Now I feel bad.

Anyhoo, I'm pretty excited to see the look on his face when he sees the new hat. He tries to make Mini into a firefighter but Mini has no interest. He uses whatever we're using for a firehose at the time (yesterday it was the pole from a stop sign) as a microphone. Try explaining to a three-year-old that being a firefighter isn't for everyone. His head almost exploded.

I have so many favorite things about my little firefighter, some of which are the following:

-Every day, he has to "save people."

-He has to get down from the dinner table "to save people." Not always convenient (for us) but funny as he looks across the room and finds something that needs saving.

-Before bed, we tell stories about him saving people. Last night, a roof fell in and crashed onto his hat, but he was ok and he still pulled people out of the house and got a huge cupcake from the town as a reward for his bravery. And then he became fire chief because the fire chief was retiring. "Mom, what does 'retiring' mean?"

-He has a motorcycle he rides around the house but it's really his "firetruck".

-He also has a "fire boat" and a "fire airplane" but those are some configuration of pillows and blankets on the couch.

-He sings a song about his firefighter self to the tune of "elmo's world."

-He loves Fireman Sam and his Nee-Nee (other grandma) even taped an episode of Design on a Dime (or something HGTVish) to show him how they spruced up a firehouse. He loved it.

-He will wear his firecoat out on the playground in 152 degree weather and he will fight anyone who tries to get him to take it off.

-Tip: Being a firefighter is especially helpful when you need him to take the nubulizer mask when he's sick. We call it the "firemask." Genius. Sheer genius.

Oh, I used to say "no" to him about wearing his fire gear out in public everywhere, but he just basks in every moment of wearing it and oozes with confidence and happiness that I just don't have the heart anymore. Even when he wants to wear the fireboots with shorts that look a little too short and he looks like he should be performing the YMCA. I mean, who am I to squash this imagination?

Now if he's still wearing this same getup and wonders why he can't get a girlfriend in a decade or so, I may have to intervene. But for now, I'm ok with it.


* * *

Also posting over at the Sisterhood today.

A Day In the Life of a Firefighter

https://babytealeaves.blogspot.com/2009/08/day-in-life-of-firefighter.html