Today Nicholas and I took Jonathon to the doctor's office once again, this time to get blood drawn for a lead test, cholesterol test and I asked for an iron level (but we'll see if it gets done since I didn't see the nurse actually write that anywhere).
.
At first the nurse was going to have him sit in the blood-letting chair but since the arm rest goes to his nose, we all thought better and moved to an exam bed where he could lie down. The first try on the left arm did not go so well. She poked him and he started to whimper. Tears began to roll and soak the paper. About 30 seconds after she started I looked over and she was still digging for a vein and my poor boy was being so brave. She quit on that arm, gave him a lollipop to take his mind off it and switched to his right. He had to be coaxed to take a couple licks, otherwise he just stared at her. No fighting, no screaming, no crying now, just layed there and stared at her while I continued to gently hold the lollipop arm and tell him how big he was. I think it made her a bit uncomfortable. Finally they tried on his right arm and it went right in and he knew it. He let out a cry, and the tears streamed down his cheeks again but he never fought, never moved. Nicholas stood by him and was a great big brother support, telling Jonathon that yes it hurt, and Jonathon should say Ouch, which he dutifully did.
And finally it was all done. With a bandage on each arm and a lollipop in hand, Jonathon was more than ready to leave. (The girls could learn a few things from their brothers in dealing with shots and needles. Both of them get themselves completely worked up and in tears before the needle is even near them. I guess that's the price for knowing what's coming next and remembering back to last time.)
In other news, I'm not so concerned about his iron levels anymore. I do want them checked to make sure he's no longer anemic, but he has finally taken to meat. He'll eat almost anything he can dip in ketchup, he likes hamburgers, fishsticks and chicken nuggets and get this, he'll eat a couple hard-boiled eggs a day if we let him. He has the bad habit of putting the entire yolk into his mouth, which obviously fills up all the room and takes a few minutes to chew and get down. I keep reminding him to take bites but it doesn't sink in. He'll also eat fried eggs. I made scrambled eggs once but he wasn't sure about those.
Of course he's hit the stage where he wants to do everything himself and hardboiled eggs are a great food for that because they peel so easily and are a quick snack he can do on his own. I've started keeping 1/2 dozen eggs at a time in the fridge and he helps himself though I do make sure he keeps it to one or 2 a day.
Periodically he's waking up dry. Tonight he woke up just before midnight and when I checked him he had taken his diaper off at some point, but his bed was still dry. He's still doing well with the potty when naked, and he's getting better when he has a diaper on too with telling us he needs to go.
The other day when we were getting ready to go out, he tried to put his pants on all by himself, and yesterday he was very intent on getting his sandals on without help. Yes, he did eventually need mom assistance, but the fact that he's finally willing to try himself is wonderful. The only part that has become difficult is teeth brushing. He used to have no problem with getting his teeth checked and letting me do a once over after he was done, but no longer.
He's very much into books now, mimicking everything we say and actually trying to correct his pronunciation when we repeat words slower. The more time passes, the more he closes the gap on Nicholas.
Thursday, August 28, 2003
I'm finally impressed
I didn't really think it could happen but an item of Filipino-unique foods has gone beyond the call of duty in impressing me.
At PriceSmart I bought a bunch of latundan bananas. A variety of banana that grows specifically in the Philippines. On-line they are described as small and sweet. Each is the perfect size for the kids and will fit easily in lunchboxes. After dinner last night, Katherine grabbed 2 for dessert, I took one, Rebecca took one. Katherine took a big bite of the first one.
She freaked out. She started yelling that her mouth was frozen and she couldn't move it. Well, they did come out of the fridge so I figured they'd be cold, but frozen was a bit of overkill. So Ian took a bite. After the first second or so, he started to hack, he made odd convoluted faces and looked for a place to spit it out. OK, I'd opened one, it looked fine with no bruises, smelled fine, texture looked good. What on earth?
Everyone looked at me. Ian insisted I take a nice big bite. I didn't. I took a little corner. I chewed. The banana that seemed perfectly normal turned into the consistency of.... heavy powder. Which mixed with spit turned into a gluey mortar like substance that made it hard to chew and almost impossible to swallow. Ah, now I understood Katherine's exclamation of a "frozen" mouth. Her chewing ability was immobilized. It tasted like nothing, but a really bad nothing and certainly not like banana. The best description we could come up with was that it was dehydrated. Oh, sure it looked like a normal fruit, but it was just pretending.
Once I'd choked it down, I had to take some out that was stuck in my teeth and I examined it.
Ever eaten paper?
At PriceSmart I bought a bunch of latundan bananas. A variety of banana that grows specifically in the Philippines. On-line they are described as small and sweet. Each is the perfect size for the kids and will fit easily in lunchboxes. After dinner last night, Katherine grabbed 2 for dessert, I took one, Rebecca took one. Katherine took a big bite of the first one.
She freaked out. She started yelling that her mouth was frozen and she couldn't move it. Well, they did come out of the fridge so I figured they'd be cold, but frozen was a bit of overkill. So Ian took a bite. After the first second or so, he started to hack, he made odd convoluted faces and looked for a place to spit it out. OK, I'd opened one, it looked fine with no bruises, smelled fine, texture looked good. What on earth?
Everyone looked at me. Ian insisted I take a nice big bite. I didn't. I took a little corner. I chewed. The banana that seemed perfectly normal turned into the consistency of.... heavy powder. Which mixed with spit turned into a gluey mortar like substance that made it hard to chew and almost impossible to swallow. Ah, now I understood Katherine's exclamation of a "frozen" mouth. Her chewing ability was immobilized. It tasted like nothing, but a really bad nothing and certainly not like banana. The best description we could come up with was that it was dehydrated. Oh, sure it looked like a normal fruit, but it was just pretending.
Once I'd choked it down, I had to take some out that was stuck in my teeth and I examined it.
Ever eaten paper?
Sunday, August 24, 2003
Jonathon's Check-Up
Last week Jonathon went in for his 2 year well-baby. He is 28 pounds and 33 1/2 inches, perfectly average across the board.
He looked so big, standing straight and tall on the scale and was patient and accomodating during his exam. The doc asked if he has around 50 words and while I've never counted, he's adding more words every day.
Along with the check-up it was time for shots. Now that he's old enough, he can catch up with the HepA series and the Typhoid vaccine. I'd tried to prepare him beforehand. He's seen all his siblings getting immunizations and he did great with the TB test a couple weeks back, so I wanted him to know what was coming up. Unfortunately, that meant the whole drive to Seafront he was saying "No ouch" and once we were there he kept trying to leave after each step. Not screaming or complaining, just an "All done" and I'm outta here.
Typhoid is a literal pain and I was a concerned that they wanted to give him a full adult dose at one time. The protocol states that it's OK, but there's a greater side effect of fever. Balancing that against the other option of giving him 1/2 now and 1/2 later, I felt that some doses of tylenol would be easier to handle than giving him a second shot. And luckily his thin little arms weren't going to work, so he received one shot in each leg. Less chance of him favoring the appendage and not working out the soreness.
He's the strongest 2 year old I know. The Typhoid got an "ouch" and a small whimper (it stings going in) until the needle came out. The HepA got an "ouch" and nothing else.
I did have a question on a sore that I see periodically on his private parts. I'll know not to do that again as I totally disagreed with how they (she brought in the RMO) examined him and what their sidebar conclusions were. Unless he has a true problem, they aren't going there again.
So, unless he's sick for any reason, he'll be back for his HepA #2 in 6 months, right around the time that Katherine finishes up her TB meds.
Speaking of TB, our housekeeper had her medical check-up and she is clear. It seems that Katherine is a freak case of TB exposure.
He looked so big, standing straight and tall on the scale and was patient and accomodating during his exam. The doc asked if he has around 50 words and while I've never counted, he's adding more words every day.
Along with the check-up it was time for shots. Now that he's old enough, he can catch up with the HepA series and the Typhoid vaccine. I'd tried to prepare him beforehand. He's seen all his siblings getting immunizations and he did great with the TB test a couple weeks back, so I wanted him to know what was coming up. Unfortunately, that meant the whole drive to Seafront he was saying "No ouch" and once we were there he kept trying to leave after each step. Not screaming or complaining, just an "All done" and I'm outta here.
Typhoid is a literal pain and I was a concerned that they wanted to give him a full adult dose at one time. The protocol states that it's OK, but there's a greater side effect of fever. Balancing that against the other option of giving him 1/2 now and 1/2 later, I felt that some doses of tylenol would be easier to handle than giving him a second shot. And luckily his thin little arms weren't going to work, so he received one shot in each leg. Less chance of him favoring the appendage and not working out the soreness.
He's the strongest 2 year old I know. The Typhoid got an "ouch" and a small whimper (it stings going in) until the needle came out. The HepA got an "ouch" and nothing else.
I did have a question on a sore that I see periodically on his private parts. I'll know not to do that again as I totally disagreed with how they (she brought in the RMO) examined him and what their sidebar conclusions were. Unless he has a true problem, they aren't going there again.
So, unless he's sick for any reason, he'll be back for his HepA #2 in 6 months, right around the time that Katherine finishes up her TB meds.
Speaking of TB, our housekeeper had her medical check-up and she is clear. It seems that Katherine is a freak case of TB exposure.
Friday, August 22, 2003
Most Popular Guy at the ATO
So I'm taking flying lessons in a Cessna 150, a little two-seater plane that looks like a budget coupe with wings. Since I'm getting my license here, that means I have to get a medical clearance and apply for the license from the Philippines Air Transportation Office. And this, like everything else here, was not normal.
I took the day off on Thursday to do this. I went with Joseph, who works at my flight school, to the ATO. The organization was pretty typical Filipino: A maximum number of offices, minimum efficiency so you go to each one many different times, and no one's in a particular hurry to do anything. First I went to the main office, where the lady gave me a little piece of paper so I could go to the cashier across the hall and pay for the process. So I paid, and brought the Official Receipt (like the freakin' Holy Grail in this country. Everyone speaks of the Official Receipt with such reverence. You must get your Official Receipt!) back to the woman in the main office. (Later, I paid the Main Office Lady for the doctor's fee, and some other unexplained fee. Perhaps it just went into her purse. It's hard to argue with the entire cash outlay for the day was less than US$8.) She then sent me to the optometrist.
Before we walked in, Joseph said, "Be careful of the depth perception test. It took me 7 tries." Great.
Perhaps this woman was an optometrist. Or maybe the older guy who hovered around was an optometrist. She didn't say enough for me to know. I sat in a chair and she covered my left eye and said, "Read those," referring, I could only assume, to four letters on the opposite wall, even though she was looking at the floor. I read the letters without trouble, then she did the left eye. And I noticed how much my eyesight has degraded in that eye... I need to go to a real optometrist.
Then the woman pushed me into a dark closet, and I braced myself for an elaborate kidnapping scheme designed to trap middle-class U.S. diplomats interesting in flying. Then turned on one of those lighted eye test machines, and said, "You have a pen? Here is a paper. Write down on each line which is floating." "Huh?," I replied, as I stood alone in the dark.
I had a little blank slip of paper, I noticed as my eyes adjusted to the dark. I looked into the machine, and saw the numbers 1 2 3 4 on the top. None seemed to be doing anything. Then there was a grid with the letters A through H vertically on the left, followed by the numbers 1 2 3 4 5 6 on the rows. Still, none seemed to float. So there I sat in a darkened, overheated closet, with a pen and little slip of paper, looking at nothing that floats, overhearing the staff talk in Tagalog about the latest allegations that the First Gentleman, Mike Arroyo, hid a bunch of his wife's campaign contributions. (I can understand that much Tagalog, just enough to make sure they're not talking about me.)
Eventually I figured that in each row, a number would float. But still none floated. So I wiggled my head around, and tried other little tricks. Staring at them didn't help -- eventually they _all_ seemed to float! I wrote down my "answers" and gave them to the woman. All wrong. Great. I gave her some excuse that I didn't understand _ which I didn't _ and tried again. After more headaches and straining, some did seem to float. Sort of.
I know I really do have depth perception. It's not like I walk into walls ... my kids do, but I don't.
I got more right than wrong. Which seemed to be Good Enough. Then she took me back into the closet to determine to stick a device in my ear to see if I could hear.
After that, it was urine (involving a cup and a corner. Which in the Third World, is the definition of a clean bathroom.) and dental. Surely you don't need teeth to fly, do you? Turns out the only boxes on that form are "OK to Fly" and "Extraction Needed." So the test was to make sure I don't need a root canal at 2,000 feet.
During these jaunts, the secret has gotten out. I'm a Diplomat. Worse, I'm a U.S. Diplomat. The dentist asks me for "help" with getting a visa. I'm eager to "help" all I can, by giving advice.
By the time the doctor has checked all the tests and declared me fit to fly, I had a little party in the main office. The Main Office Lady, the Dentist, and the Pretty Urine Girl. The MOL has a sister in the States, and I have to tell her that it will take about 22 years to get an immigrant visa, assuming her sister petitions for her now. MOL also has a son who is not pleased with me after MOL remarks that I'm younger than he is, and look what I'm doing. The dentist brags to the rest how I said that she has a good case for a tourist visa. Then she asks how she can immigrate. She has no immediate relatives in the States, so... I suggest Canada. It's a beautiful country. They get the little joke. All of them ask for my business card, and I hand them over, wincing in advance about what calls I might get. Pretty Urine Girl just sits there, smiling at me. Perhaps she is thinking about getting in via the Fiancee visa, and hasn't noticed my ring.
It would never work. I just handed her a cup of warm pee.
I took the day off on Thursday to do this. I went with Joseph, who works at my flight school, to the ATO. The organization was pretty typical Filipino: A maximum number of offices, minimum efficiency so you go to each one many different times, and no one's in a particular hurry to do anything. First I went to the main office, where the lady gave me a little piece of paper so I could go to the cashier across the hall and pay for the process. So I paid, and brought the Official Receipt (like the freakin' Holy Grail in this country. Everyone speaks of the Official Receipt with such reverence. You must get your Official Receipt!) back to the woman in the main office. (Later, I paid the Main Office Lady for the doctor's fee, and some other unexplained fee. Perhaps it just went into her purse. It's hard to argue with the entire cash outlay for the day was less than US$8.) She then sent me to the optometrist.
Before we walked in, Joseph said, "Be careful of the depth perception test. It took me 7 tries." Great.
Perhaps this woman was an optometrist. Or maybe the older guy who hovered around was an optometrist. She didn't say enough for me to know. I sat in a chair and she covered my left eye and said, "Read those," referring, I could only assume, to four letters on the opposite wall, even though she was looking at the floor. I read the letters without trouble, then she did the left eye. And I noticed how much my eyesight has degraded in that eye... I need to go to a real optometrist.
Then the woman pushed me into a dark closet, and I braced myself for an elaborate kidnapping scheme designed to trap middle-class U.S. diplomats interesting in flying. Then turned on one of those lighted eye test machines, and said, "You have a pen? Here is a paper. Write down on each line which is floating." "Huh?," I replied, as I stood alone in the dark.
I had a little blank slip of paper, I noticed as my eyes adjusted to the dark. I looked into the machine, and saw the numbers 1 2 3 4 on the top. None seemed to be doing anything. Then there was a grid with the letters A through H vertically on the left, followed by the numbers 1 2 3 4 5 6 on the rows. Still, none seemed to float. So there I sat in a darkened, overheated closet, with a pen and little slip of paper, looking at nothing that floats, overhearing the staff talk in Tagalog about the latest allegations that the First Gentleman, Mike Arroyo, hid a bunch of his wife's campaign contributions. (I can understand that much Tagalog, just enough to make sure they're not talking about me.)
Eventually I figured that in each row, a number would float. But still none floated. So I wiggled my head around, and tried other little tricks. Staring at them didn't help -- eventually they _all_ seemed to float! I wrote down my "answers" and gave them to the woman. All wrong. Great. I gave her some excuse that I didn't understand _ which I didn't _ and tried again. After more headaches and straining, some did seem to float. Sort of.
I know I really do have depth perception. It's not like I walk into walls ... my kids do, but I don't.
I got more right than wrong. Which seemed to be Good Enough. Then she took me back into the closet to determine to stick a device in my ear to see if I could hear.
After that, it was urine (involving a cup and a corner. Which in the Third World, is the definition of a clean bathroom.) and dental. Surely you don't need teeth to fly, do you? Turns out the only boxes on that form are "OK to Fly" and "Extraction Needed." So the test was to make sure I don't need a root canal at 2,000 feet.
During these jaunts, the secret has gotten out. I'm a Diplomat. Worse, I'm a U.S. Diplomat. The dentist asks me for "help" with getting a visa. I'm eager to "help" all I can, by giving advice.
By the time the doctor has checked all the tests and declared me fit to fly, I had a little party in the main office. The Main Office Lady, the Dentist, and the Pretty Urine Girl. The MOL has a sister in the States, and I have to tell her that it will take about 22 years to get an immigrant visa, assuming her sister petitions for her now. MOL also has a son who is not pleased with me after MOL remarks that I'm younger than he is, and look what I'm doing. The dentist brags to the rest how I said that she has a good case for a tourist visa. Then she asks how she can immigrate. She has no immediate relatives in the States, so... I suggest Canada. It's a beautiful country. They get the little joke. All of them ask for my business card, and I hand them over, wincing in advance about what calls I might get. Pretty Urine Girl just sits there, smiling at me. Perhaps she is thinking about getting in via the Fiancee visa, and hasn't noticed my ring.
It would never work. I just handed her a cup of warm pee.
Tuesday, August 19, 2003
Newspapers that aren't News Papers
We get the Philippine Daily Inquirer, well, daily. More precisely, we bought a 6 month subscription, and thankfully in October our time runs out.
There are several sections to the paper but the first is the only part that holds anything resembling news as the back sections are often 2-3 different sets of "Lifestyle."
One Lifestyle is usually the success story of a rich person who continued gaining wealth. There are some that started poor or moderatly poor, but the page is always a grand success story of the currently wealthy. Another Lifestyle is geared toward the late-teen/early-20s age group (cool new fads, new texting options, what to do when you only have P50 until payday). There's often a wedding Lifestyle, chatting all about the recent wedding/reception of a, you guessed it, wealthy couple. And another Lifestyle often focuses on a resturant (often one of a chain), a menu, a chef, or a cooking school. You see the pattern there. All in all, interesting to read through the first week, deathly boring by month 4.
The first page of the paper has huge headlines of "very important stuff", the only problem being that they use nicknames for every person and throw in Tagalog words seemingly at random. Inside, there is a section for world news, and a section for Metro Manila. Opinions get 2 pages and 6 opinion writers. There's usually one railing against the United States, and there's a long side column entitled "Young Blood" written by a different young person struggling through the tribulations of running out of texting minutes or picking on a kid at school.
All this is well and good, but wha't missing? A weather page. There's no forecast either in the paper or on TV. I take that back. There is a dedicated weather channel, but when it isn't on the logo, it shows the weather from today. Yes the weather that has already occurred, and no predictions for tomorrow or the rest of the week. Oh sure I could assume it'll be hot and muggy, and we carry umbrellas all the time anyway, but still! So if there's a storm brewing we use internet web sites (Yahoo! weather isn't too bad http://weather.yahoo.com/forecast/RPXX0017.html) and on-line satellite images.
The other part that I desperately miss is a culture/arts section. There are festivals, bazaars, concerts, ballets, live entertainment in restaurants, visiting entertainers, and a myriad of other things to do in easy driving distance, but if we're lucky we hear about them after they've occurred. The cultural center is on the way to the Embassy but its sign doesn't offer much information other than the day of a performance. We rely on books we bought back in the States and word of mouth from other expats about zoos, islands, beaches, day trips, water/amusement parks, World War II monuments and a variety of tourist traps. How much are we missing because the newspaper doesn't bring these places of interest to our table?
UPDATE: It seems there is in fact an Entertainment section in the paper at least once a week. It's on the reverse side of the Sports section which I obviously don't read. A full page for movie theaters and new releases, a few box ads for some entertainment around town (Jim Brickman is playing in our mall on September 11), and little else.
In October we're going to try the Star.
And for real news, we have the International Herald Tribune. Definitely worth it.
There are several sections to the paper but the first is the only part that holds anything resembling news as the back sections are often 2-3 different sets of "Lifestyle."
One Lifestyle is usually the success story of a rich person who continued gaining wealth. There are some that started poor or moderatly poor, but the page is always a grand success story of the currently wealthy. Another Lifestyle is geared toward the late-teen/early-20s age group (cool new fads, new texting options, what to do when you only have P50 until payday). There's often a wedding Lifestyle, chatting all about the recent wedding/reception of a, you guessed it, wealthy couple. And another Lifestyle often focuses on a resturant (often one of a chain), a menu, a chef, or a cooking school. You see the pattern there. All in all, interesting to read through the first week, deathly boring by month 4.
The first page of the paper has huge headlines of "very important stuff", the only problem being that they use nicknames for every person and throw in Tagalog words seemingly at random. Inside, there is a section for world news, and a section for Metro Manila. Opinions get 2 pages and 6 opinion writers. There's usually one railing against the United States, and there's a long side column entitled "Young Blood" written by a different young person struggling through the tribulations of running out of texting minutes or picking on a kid at school.
All this is well and good, but wha't missing? A weather page. There's no forecast either in the paper or on TV. I take that back. There is a dedicated weather channel, but when it isn't on the logo, it shows the weather from today. Yes the weather that has already occurred, and no predictions for tomorrow or the rest of the week. Oh sure I could assume it'll be hot and muggy, and we carry umbrellas all the time anyway, but still! So if there's a storm brewing we use internet web sites (Yahoo! weather isn't too bad http://weather.yahoo.com/forecast/RPXX0017.html) and on-line satellite images.
The other part that I desperately miss is a culture/arts section. There are festivals, bazaars, concerts, ballets, live entertainment in restaurants, visiting entertainers, and a myriad of other things to do in easy driving distance, but if we're lucky we hear about them after they've occurred. The cultural center is on the way to the Embassy but its sign doesn't offer much information other than the day of a performance. We rely on books we bought back in the States and word of mouth from other expats about zoos, islands, beaches, day trips, water/amusement parks, World War II monuments and a variety of tourist traps. How much are we missing because the newspaper doesn't bring these places of interest to our table?
UPDATE: It seems there is in fact an Entertainment section in the paper at least once a week. It's on the reverse side of the Sports section which I obviously don't read. A full page for movie theaters and new releases, a few box ads for some entertainment around town (Jim Brickman is playing in our mall on September 11), and little else.
In October we're going to try the Star.
And for real news, we have the International Herald Tribune. Definitely worth it.
Monday, August 18, 2003
Sometimes you just need to hear their voices
Every weekend we talk to my parents. Either they call us or we call them (IVG line is free to the 202 and surrounding area codes), and it’s always so good to hear the news. E-mail is nice, but sometimes nothing beats a phone call. Which is why later in the afternoon I called up, Jeff. Yes, it was the middle of the night in D.C., but he’s a night owl so I knew I wouldn’t be waking him. It was so good to hear his voice and chat about his upcoming trip to Hungary and Serbia. When Ian got home, he told Jeff about work and his flying lessons. Every once in a while, it’s nice to touch base. I wish there were more people in the area to call at 2 a.m. on a Saturday morning!
Let's go to the movies....
This weekend, we went to see our first movie as a family.
Ian has taken the girls before, my parents have taken the older 3, Ian and I have gone, but never before have all 6 of us seen a show together. That’s been changed, thanks to “Finding Nemo” For less than $20, we each got a chosen seat (it’s like going to the theater!), 6 drinks, a bucket of popcorn and a bucket of nachos, supreme style (don’t ask me what it tasted like, as far as I know it had meat, some cheese goo typical of movie nachos and a garlic sauce, but the girls ate both buckets of snacks so the rest of us can only dream what they were like).
The theaters at PowerPlant mall are really nice. Clean, air-conditioned, and tiered-seating, the only drawback was that it was really loud. So loud that our noise-sensitive child wanted to leave as soon as it began. Jonathon got up and headed for the door but with some convincing, a mommy lap so he could lay against my chest, and a sweater over his head, he was able to avoid most of the movie by falling right to sleep and staying conked out for an hour. He awoke when the turtles were swimming across the screen and was happy to see them, but the instant the scene changed he was back under the sweater just waiting out the storm. Poor kid, I guess we won’t try that again for a while. Of course, children change so much from month to month that he might be just fine if we make another attempt in October.
If you haven’t seen “Finding Nemo”, we all gave it thumbs up. The digital animation is astonishing, especially in the opening reef scenes, and later when we pan through Sydney I honestly had trouble deciding if it was animation or real images blended in. Truly stunning. As for the storyline, there are definite scary parts. Nicholas wasn’t thrilled with several parts (sharks anyone?) and sat on Ian’s lap through most of it, but I found myself laughing out loud at several spots.
[Side note: While waiting to get our tickets, the girls sat in a nearby café and played a game of chess. Gotta love a country with chessboards set up around every corner.]
Ian has taken the girls before, my parents have taken the older 3, Ian and I have gone, but never before have all 6 of us seen a show together. That’s been changed, thanks to “Finding Nemo” For less than $20, we each got a chosen seat (it’s like going to the theater!), 6 drinks, a bucket of popcorn and a bucket of nachos, supreme style (don’t ask me what it tasted like, as far as I know it had meat, some cheese goo typical of movie nachos and a garlic sauce, but the girls ate both buckets of snacks so the rest of us can only dream what they were like).
The theaters at PowerPlant mall are really nice. Clean, air-conditioned, and tiered-seating, the only drawback was that it was really loud. So loud that our noise-sensitive child wanted to leave as soon as it began. Jonathon got up and headed for the door but with some convincing, a mommy lap so he could lay against my chest, and a sweater over his head, he was able to avoid most of the movie by falling right to sleep and staying conked out for an hour. He awoke when the turtles were swimming across the screen and was happy to see them, but the instant the scene changed he was back under the sweater just waiting out the storm. Poor kid, I guess we won’t try that again for a while. Of course, children change so much from month to month that he might be just fine if we make another attempt in October.
If you haven’t seen “Finding Nemo”, we all gave it thumbs up. The digital animation is astonishing, especially in the opening reef scenes, and later when we pan through Sydney I honestly had trouble deciding if it was animation or real images blended in. Truly stunning. As for the storyline, there are definite scary parts. Nicholas wasn’t thrilled with several parts (sharks anyone?) and sat on Ian’s lap through most of it, but I found myself laughing out loud at several spots.
[Side note: While waiting to get our tickets, the girls sat in a nearby café and played a game of chess. Gotta love a country with chessboards set up around every corner.]
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)