Our Day, with Rachael Ray

First off, 'Hello Harry,' he will never be able to not be Harry Potter. And 'Wicked,' goodness I would love to see this. And so would my friend Cherie who went with me, and she is going to see a show with her hubby  for her 30th Birthday. I think I may just have to be a tour guide, or promise them dinner or something and convince them that spending the money on 'Wicked,' is just a fabulous idea...who needs to feed the kids for 2 weeks anyway?

I tell you what. I know that there are people that read this blog that live in New York City, ( Holla!), but I feel as though everyday would be an event in NYC.  From what to wear to what to eat, from where to eat, to where to go. From how to get there, to when to get there. It's constant movement, constant things to stare at, constant trend changing. I seriously would not be able to keep up. We would head out with our stroller daily and get lost in things to stare at, not making it home until after 8 p.m., looking a bit flustered, starry eyed, and exhausted. A constant caffeine buzz and ability to achieve one if you are lacking every single block. I am a people watcher. Some people are bird watchers, safari watcher, tv watchers, I am a people watcher. I am amused by people's ways, nuances, and things that make them tick, and just how they tick. To make you really uncomfortable, you can pretty much be rest assured that before I have talked to you, I have sized you up. And not in a snotty pants kind of way, making sure that you are good enough to associate with me, that would be just ridiculous because I am by no means that mean girl who doesn't let you sit with her at the lunch table.And seriously 9 times out of 10 we have something in common, I promise you. I am sizing you up to see really if you would be receptive to even talking to me, if you have the moment, and or if you need the moment. And that is just the way I tick. I like to silently observe people, how they interact. So New York City sends my weird character trait into overdrive.

So we get there (we is: Me, my lovely neighbor and friend Sue, my darling friend and super knitter, Cherie, and my fabulous friend Bonnie who is my son's BFF's mother), we find the parking, we begin to walk, a light mist in the air, because it would never be 70 degrees and sunny with a light breeze when I plan to go somewhere. I think that happened once. It was on Ethan's 2nd Birthday and it was a trip to the zoo at the end of March and all that we needed were light jackets. That NEVER happened again.

So we stand in line, and we wait. See when you sign up for the Rachael Ray show she has a list of things when you are chosen to be a recipient of her tickets that you are required to follow. And one of those things is that even though you were chosen to be in a selected audience, you are not guaranteed a placement in the audience. I know.  Seriously, four people behind us, they stop the tickets. No joke. And these people were given the same confirmation that we have. You also have a dress code. Which I tell you really isn't followed or adhered to all that much by the staff. I mean, I wouldn't go in there in your sweat pants and Bon Jovi tee from his tour in 1994, but this girl in the front row was wearing wellies, and I am not quite sure why, I mean it was misting, but why on earth would you want to walk the streets of New York City in rain boots? The puddles seriously are not all that deep honey, and there ain't no grass to be frolicking through.

So as you wait in line you do the typical 'standing in line chit chat,' with others. What shows have you been to, when are we going to be let in, what did you get at other shoe tapings, what is Rachael like? And there is a lot of speculation as to what she is like. There is a mixed review. Some people say that she is not very friendly. That she does the show and is pretty impersonal. I say that everyone is entitled to their bad days. I mean ok, she is in show business, and there is no business like show business, but day in and day out? You are bound to have a bad moment, bound to get in a fight with your hubby, have pms, have to fart and no one will leave you alone, the dog crap on the floor and you step in it. I will be the judge, we will see, you know me the people watcher.

And she was cute. She was hungover from a night out with Bobby Flay because you know she's super important like that and has famous chefs invite her over for dinner. She wore her leggings, boots, a blazer, and a tank, and she looks just like she does on t.v. She was joking and she was engaging, but she also had a job to do. She has to remember how to prepare every single meal she prepares people and side bits of information about meat, veggies, seasoning, I mean I can't blame her if her mind is in another place. She ad libs, although lines are prepared for her, and she knows exactly where to look, when to look, and how to look. I don't know how people can go through stuff like that and not make a million mistakes. She did not fumble over her words once. I would be,'...and like, stir this, and then like, add some of this, and then like, pour in some of this, what is this called again...oh yes, broth.' And that is why Rachael Ray is the host of her own television show, and not me.

We sat in auditorium style seats that were on a large circle floor that rotated to all the different sets. The guests were Katie Lee and Elizabeth Berkley. Katie Lee made some fish tacos, talked about her new book, her new line of Stila Cosmetics, and surfed on this surfboard that was attached to an inflatable ocean, like a giant moon bounce. It resembled the bull that you get on in hole in the wall bars, and for whatever reason, people feel compelled to sit upon to just be thrown off in such a manner that something in the back is bound to be thrown out. However, back to Katie Lee, most importantly we all got her make up that she was promoting by Stila. Not too shabby, I enjoy the color of the blush.

Bonnie, in the taxi, and for some reason feeling compelled to apply her new make up that Katie Lee gave her.

Yet,I just couldn't help thinking the entire time that she was talking that she had been married to Billy Joel, and sorry Bill, but he is like super old, and she is like my age, in fact a few years younger, and you know what married people do, and it just kind of baffled my mind. She is a super cute southern girl with some great legs, and she can cook, what in the world is she doing with a man that is most likely older than her father? But I heard nothing she said because here I am thinking, 'well she didn't really need the money, and well he does sing really well, and I mean he is uberly famous, but look at her, she could have married any singer. I wonder if she felt weird around his daughter because technically they are separated by as many years as siblings are. And, I have never had a fish taco, I wonder if they taste good, they certainly smell good. She is just wearing khakis and a tank, that's weird, she is going to be on tv, nationally. I wonder why they ended their marriage.' Seriously, I need a life.

And Elizabeth Berkley talked about her book that she wrote surrounding giving advice to teenage girls. I don't know. I don't think I would want Jesse Spano from the Saved by the Bell and the girl who starred in 'Showgirls,' giving my daughter advice. That's all. I mean Jesse Spano really made some bad decisions. She actually told Rachael that Showgirls was meant to be funny. Like, mocking showgirls in general. Like the movie, 'Best in Show,' or 'Napoleon Dynamite,' or I don't know, 'Anchor Man.' I don't think so Jesse Spano.

Then Rachael made some other dish.  I forget what it was, but a crucial question was answered for me at the completion of the meal. No. The audience does not get any. So totally unfair. It's a cooking show. I think that Rachael could take a slight decrease in her salary in order to let her guest taste some samples. Oprah gives away samples if she is talkin food or drink. I'm just sayin. You want the following, you have got to give up the pasta. But in actuality, they have a list of the staff and go down it, and if your name is up, you get to take all the food home from that show. I mean I guess the staff is cool enough. The warm up comedian was entertaining and all. I don't know, I just think that comedians in general have this weird personality that leaves them with the inability to turn off the joking and sarcasm, and in reality at some point you are like, 'ok shut up.' We got out just in time.

Overall, it was better then 'The View', but I haven't been there since Whoppi took over, so that isn't really fair. I also went to Regis and Kelly, and the dynamics are a bit different because it was live. And they are very real, and very engaging with the crowd. Since I will never be able to see Oprah, I will be a bit sad, I can only imagine that unless you are in the audience when they are talking about slaughter houses, it might be a good show to see. Could you imagine? 'Oh what was she taping, you are so lucky to have gotten tickets to Oprah.' And you can only reply, 'Oh we got to see a video of Lisa Ling in a slaughter house telling us all about dinner...moo...' I hope they got a free ipad or something.

My favorite part of the day, was literally the drive. My friend Bonnie, you know Tinkerbell? Yeah. More on that in a bit...let's just say that for one she states that the movie 'Titanic,' changed her life. Lordy, I love her.

So New York City. It's a bit of a concrete jungle in every sense of the word. If you suffer from claustrophobia, this is not the place for you to visit. If loud noises and people scare you, stay away. But for me, there is something about it. I think that pre child, if I could do it again I might want to live there for a year. Not that there is anything wrong with raising your child in New York City. Just to me, living in the city and having a baby would prove to be way too much for me, another odd quirk that would produce overload. However, I highly suggest it as a day away with your lady friends like mine, if you know, you can get there and back in a day. If not, maybe a weekend? Just remember to bring me with you and don't honk.

Lincoln was a Good President, Not a Tunnel

So as it turns out someone recieved some tickets to the Rachael Ray Show, ahem, that would be me, and um, well you know, I rallyed in some lady loves, and we decided to make a day of it. And I am aware that it is not Oprah, but that's cool, Oprah founded her, and so interconnection is welcome as well.

No, let me just tell you how excited I was to make this day trip, we all had our sitters within 24 hours of me obtaining the tickets, one month in advance.

I am a big fan of New York City, and I am all about being and looking like the tourist and I take absolutely no shame in that. I have been there many many many times but for some reason am still all googly eyed staring at it all. My favorite is the ultimate touristy thing to do and that is to go to a Broadway show. Love them. When we went to see 42nd St, I wished that I had been a tap dancer and stuck with the tap dance lessons instead of moving to jazz. No, like, I really got a bit sad about it, because tap wasn't cool at the time, but look where it could have taken me. No, the thought did not enter my mind that perhaps you actually need to be good at the actual tap dancing. Nope, just sadness for myself, because I wanted to wear the gold glittery unitards and be all fancy up on stage.

I am a very theatrical person, I mean some wonder where Kendall gets it from, but let me just tell you, I will randomly break out in broadway vebrato song and dance, you know, whenever inappropriate. Ethan begs of me to stop. Yesterday I was just singing about how much he has grown and that his pants are too short, and for my finale took a flying leap off of his bed. I seriously think I injured something somewhere in my hip, its quite sore today. So in the weeks leading to this day trip, not week trip, not even overnight trip, I would break out in song and dance to 'Annie's N.Y.C.' My kids were ready to send me to my room with no snack.

'You crowd, You cramp, You're still, The Champ, Amen for N.Y.C.'

I kept hoping that our husbands would grace us with some reward; tickets to a show, hotel rooms with a view of Central Park, reservations to the yummiest restauarants with brunch on Sunday,  and unlimited amounts to spend in the stores. And then I woke up. Seriously? It would cost as much as a 2 week stay in Hawaii for one long weekend in N.Y.C. God love it, but I don't know how people sleep at night charging $3.00 for a glass of Diet Pepsi. You that I can get 3, 2 liters bottles of this at Target. Next time I am stuffing that in my purse as well.

So we decided to drive into the city. I have always taken the train. But for some reason we agreed that it might be easier, and it was, until we hit the Lincoln Tunnel. I had never been through the Lincoln Tunnel. It's a bit like survivial of the fittest. What it is is this giant u-turn into this open area with no lines, no signs, no one directing traffic, no limit of the amount of people permitted into this open area. And we are all trying to get into one of three tubes. It is similar to a funnel. It makes no sense to me. And the closer you get to the tunnel it all of a sudden starts to move, almost like you are smushed, smushed, smushed and POP, you go through the hole. And cars get so so close to each other. We had a tourist van almost slowly glide itself right into the passenger door, like it was nothing, just wanted to attach itself right onto us and have some of my coffee.

We decided that this might be the job for me. Standing between the openings of the tunnel up high on some pedastool, and everyone who is to enter the tunnel as to tune to a set radio station. They will then hear me and know when it is their turn to move, where to position themselves, and when it is their turn to go through the tunnel.  'Red Hyundai Sonata, with the female driver, please move into the left line.' And, 'White Prius, with the sunroof open, please proceed into the tunnel.' I don't know, but I think I might have a job idea there, alert the city council. Another thing that would make me quite nervous is being in stand still traffic in the actual tunnel. I tell you if it lasted more then 20 minutes, you are fairly warned that I will be abandoning my vehicle, and walking out. And it was pointed out by one of my savvy friends with me that day, what happens to the tiles that fall off of the ceiling in that tunnel? No joke, look up next time you are in a tunnel, there are missing tiles, and I have never thought of this. Who's car do they hit, I want to meet this person. What happens?

Another job that I found for myself on our drive in was the Honking Patrol. Did you know that there are signs in the city that actually say, 'No Honking, $350 citation.' Seriously? There were people honking all over the place in these areas. We were well over $3000 in fines within the first 5 minutes of our arrival. I want to be the person who bangs on their hood and slaps a big fat ticket onto their windshield. I mean seriously, this economy needs jobs, and needs money flowing, it's time to fine those Wall St big wigs and stop the honking!

And this was all getting into the city, what about Rachael Ray, my first ever, I said it, first ever taxi drive? Did you know that they have t.v.'s and touch screen maps? It's outrageous. More to come.

The Banning of the Fast Food Playhouses

Let me start out by saying that I have heard the stories.
I am fully aware that there have been instances of children barfing on the landings and children running shoeless or on their hands and knees through it.

I know that there are guardians of children that permit their children to bring their food into the play area and then it is smashed all over, and again children are walking and crawling through this food.

I am aware that there have been said instances of leaking diapers, smearing down the slide.

Bon Appetit.

And I'll admit it. Up to this point I have taken my children to this fast food establishments and have permitted them to enjoy the wondrous playhouse.

Never was there an incident.

Ok, so I have been a bit paranoid about the germs and have them use antibacterial hand gel when coming and going through the playhouse. And yes, even if the table appears clean, I clean it first with a wipe, then with some antibacterial spray, and then with another wipe. And then have them eat off of mats made of napkins. I am a big fan of disposable place mats. But who can remember to a.) purchase them and then b.) bring them?

Alright, maybe you can, come get your Mom of the Year trophy.

Let me preface this story again with what led up to our journey to this what will go unnamed establishment for kids meals and playhouse.

We had lost the remote for the Blue Ray Player once again. Knowing that it was somewhere downstairs being used for a phone, and or put away hastily in the wrong spot, I refused to look for it. This has happened like 15 times in the past 3 months, and instead of getting aggravated and going on a mad search through the downstairs. I simply pronounced, 'whomever finds the black remote gets to go on a trip with Mommy to _________.' ( the unnamed fast food establishment) They shared this with everyone, such excitement. But for some reason this went on for 3 weeks. I still refused to look for it. I get agitated when looking for needles in haystacks. I really do, and I know that there is some mental issues in regards to that, because it is more agitated then necessary, however, I simply refused exacerbate this said mental issue, and said, 'good luck my friends, may the best child win.'

So my  friend Sue watches the darlings for us on Monday afternoons while I go and get my weekly spa treatments. Not really, wouldn't that be something though, to actually say that with no qualms about it? Really she is watching them while I go to work until my love gets home from work. I explained to her that they can watch a movie, but will have to endure all of the previews and then you will have to push stop and then play again to get past the main menu, because the remote is lost. The offspring chimed in, 'and whoever finds the remote gets to go to _________ with just Mommy!!!!!!!!!' I seriously think they thought that one day it would just jump into one of their hands because they did not once go on a mad search for it, but their enthusiasm over the prize was huge. I don't really think they got the whole concept.

Amazingly the next morning they proclaim, 'we found the remote!!!'
'Who found the remote?!?!!'
'We found the remote!!!!'
'You found the remote at the same time!??!'
'Uh....yes, we found at the same time!!'
'That's amazing, so you both get to go with Mommy!!'
Such good story tellers.

Later after egging the situation on with such praise and compliments, you know, 'I just can't believe you both found it, that is just so wonderful, I am just so happy for you, you surely deserve this trip,' and things of that nature, Kendall comes to me all guilt ridden.
'Uh Mommy, you know um, well, Sue actually found the remote, but she said that we could both say that we found it so that we could both go to _______.'
'Hmmm, well since you were so honest Kendall, and you know Mommy is all about being honest and telling the truth, I think it is only fair that we go, since the remote has been found and Sue wanted you both to go for her.'
'Awesome.'
We will later address the situation surrounding the prompting of my children lying with a write up, Sue.

So we're there.

I want to first point out my initial annoyance which typically occurs in said playhouse.
The age parameters completely being disregarded.
It annoys me to no end that guardians permit their grown children to play in the playhouse. And they aren't just walking around nicely minding their size and the tiny children underfoot. They are storming through there playing tag and wrestling and pushing and shoving and being all loud.
If they are an older sibling helping the younger sibling navigate the house, well then, I will let them and their kind heart slide.
But this rarely occurs and I just want to say that if you are old enough to read playhouse rules, you should not be in the playhouse.
I'm just saying.

So they play, we get the food, we call them to eat, they shovel it down, ask to play again.
At this point a foul stench begins to overcome the playhouse eating and playing area.
To the point where people are coming in with their food making a funny face, scrunching up their nose, and walking out.

And you know when you are in the smell you don't really notice it all that bad. But Andy who is walking in and out and is the roving reporter when anything is going on definitely smells it. And when Andy knows there is something going on that is affecting everyone around him, he always chimes in, always. He seriously should be on CNN or something.

Andy has me checking Jake's diaper, but it isn't a poop smell, and I really can't smell it all that bad, I haven't left the area, but the diaper was all clear anyway. Andy then has me smelling his feet. Picture: Me leaning over while husband props up foot and me again, sniffing. The things we do. But no, it isn't that either.

Then the crew walks in to 'inspect' the area. They have a mop and their noses, they scan the area like the freakin scent is going to jump out at them and say, 'here I am.' They pronounce they don't see anything, and walk out. You know, perhaps some air deodorizing spray might work in this situation, again I am just saying.

Ethan then walks up to me to tell me something crucial. It is that 'I can't believe this just happened,' face. It is half smirk, half amusement, half astonishment. These are typically great comments.

'Mommy guess what? I just farted like a super big fart and it's so loud in here that I couldn't even hear it!

'That's awesome E, but since you told me, can you still say excuse me?'

'Uh yup, 'scuse me.'

I suppose this was his first experience with the 'don't ask, don't tell,' policy regarding passing gas in public. If they don't know it was you, don't draw attention to it.

And I like couldn't even smell it either.

So then of course he has to use the facilities, and Andy is like, 'that's it we're out you are going to have to hold it E.'

And you know little boys and holding it? Yeah, not gonna happen.

So we run to the bathroom, he is dancing his I have to go to go jig, as I cover the seat with tissue paper. He says his normal line, and I can pretty much recite it as I know he will proclaim it every time, so that all females in there will hear that this wasn't his idea. 'Uh Mommy, it is ok for me to come to the girls room, even though I am a boy, because you are with me and I am too little to go to the boys room by myself, and there are strange people in there when I am not with Daddy.' I think he means strangers, but you know, people are strange too. You've heard the stories.

Then we walk back walk in and the smell hits me and I want to literally vomit. I grab one of the kids sweatshirts to breathe through because you need a gas mask of some sort. I announce, 'pack it up, we are getting out of here this is so gross!!!' And the smell is like dirty socks that have not been washed in seriously five months. You know the ones that have been sitting in the bottom of a gym locker after a serious sweat for the entire school year. And there are children who clearly can read, running through the playhouse at top speed. The culprits.

I tell Kendall that we are going, she is aware of what is going on, not sure where the smell is coming from and says, 'well if you want me to I can check the slide, maybe someone threw up in there, and I can go and tell the workers if I find some in there.'

I thank her for her sacrificial suggestion, but that we will be leaving before that can occur.

We rush out the door breathe in the fresh air, well sort of, it still smells like fast food, you know that fry and hamburger smell that encompasses the establishment in a one mile radius? But it ain't that terrible smell from the playhouse.

I announce, that that is it, we are never going in that dirty place again. No more playhouses at fast food places ever!
They both say, 'yeah that was super smelly gross! But we can go through the drive thru?'
And they have a point.
I mean who can never ever again have fast food fries?
Case Closed.

*And I would like to point out also that with us that evening was a 10.5 month old who ate his entire Kids Meal... we're talking four nuggets, a small fry, and a juice box. He is no joke in the food department.