Jean and Jack Day

It’s not too late to talk about Mother’s Day, is it? Because I’d really like to talk about Mother’s Day. See, Sunday wasn’t just Mother’s Day in Stimeyland, but also Jack’s birthday. We were only a silver anniversary away from the perfect storm of celebration.

Wait a minute! Maybe we can achieve this perfect storm of celebration if I show you this slightly blurry photo of Gerbil Mother’s Day:

Although it probably doesn't count if I took the photo a month ago, does it?

Although it probably doesn’t count if I took the photo a month ago, does it?

Mother’s Day was pretty much overshadowed by Jack’s birthday, which was totally fine with me, especially because I got the best handmade cards and gifts I could have possibly gotten. Sam made me a paper Minecraft cake and sang a song to go along with it, complete with an illustrated companion book.

Jack made me a bead necklace and a paper flower, along with a note that I had to hide from my other kids because it mentioned the secret iPad time he gets in the morning if he has good behavior at school the day before.

Quinn typed up a little note that said, “I love you and you are good. So I think you should get to sleep in 5 more minutes than you usually do. Then get dressed, come downstairs and fix us breakfast.” Then, he poked at me, said, “I regret putting my thumb in your armpit,” and ran to the bathroom to frantically wash his hands. Because I have cooties, evidently.

Also, Alex got me the best Mother’s Day card that he could possibly have given to a non-hugger autistic person like me.

I laughed and laughed. Alex gets me.

I laughed and laughed. Alex gets me.

We then moved on to Jack’s big day. He opened presents and then all the males in my house played Minecraft together until I threatened to walk out of the house and go on Jack’s Big Birthday Outing all by myself because we were going to a petting farm and I wanted to pet some farm animals, thank you very much.

Also, Minecraft is stupid.

I finally bent my entire family to my will and we headed out to the farm. Where did we go, you ask? Why don’t we let Sam tell us?

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He asked me to take this photo. It was the best Mother’s Day gift I could have asked for.

Wait. Where did you say you were again?

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This would only be better if spoilsport Quinn had shown his face. God, I love my family.

There were all kinds of animals to pet and feed at this farm. Unfortunately, Jack was unexcited about all of them.

Wait. I mean he was SUPER excited about all of them.

Wait. I mean he was SUPER excited about all of them.

We started with the fowl. My kids think chickens are really funny. Except Sam. Sam was a little bit afraid of the chickens. That’s probably a smart move seeing as how chickens are exceptionally pointy. In reality, however, chickens are probably more scared of us than we are of them.

This chicken in particular.

This chicken in particular.
He was trapped in a Team Stimey-chicken sandwich—otherwise known as a chicken sandwich.

We saw every animal at the farm. We were allowed to pet all of them except for the zebras. I assume this is because every time I have seen zebras in captivity, there is a sign that warns people that fingers look like carrots* and you shouldn’t stick said fingers in zebra pens because zebras are assholes and will eat your hand.

Naturally, I asked Alex to put his finger in the zebra pen.

He's really half assing feeding his finger to the zebra though. You can tell from the photo.

He’s really half assing feeding his finger to the zebra though. You can tell from the photo.

We also saw the pig race.

I felt that this was a little demeaning, but they didn't seem to mind.

I felt that the race was a little demeaning, but the pigs didn’t seem to mind.

One of those pigs was galloping. The other one sort of ambled at a fast trot. Once they raced, they ate out of their little piggy bowl and the first one snorted angrily and shoved the second one every time the second one tried to eat some food. I was all, “Hey! That first one is like me!”

There were a lot of baby animals at the petting farm. There were baby birds, pigs, llamas, bison, goats, a cow, and sheep.

This baby sheep made a whiny, complainy bleat that sound EXACTLY like Quinn.

This baby sheep made a whiny, complainy bleat that sound EXACTLY like Quinn.

Happily, this farm made Quinn, who is often quite grumpy, happier than I have seen him in a while. It was great to see his delighted, happy face. Baby animals are kind of his thing.

The sheer awesomeness of feeding sheep knocked him on his ass.

The sheer awesomeness of feeding sheep knocked him on his ass.

My favorite animal there was the kangaroo. Have you ever petted a kangaroo? OMG, they are so soft. And they have little hands that they use to scratch themselves in all kinds of fun places while you watch. Plus, if you get really close to them, they will try to eat your hair. I want a kangaroo.

Specifically, this kangaroo.

Specifically, this kangaroo. I will name him Bartholomew.

I also have a thing for emus, even though they are kinda dicks. Have you ever petted an emu? Of course not, because they will peck you to death before you get close enough.

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Aaaaaiiiiiggghhhhh!!!!!!

Baby chickens were nicer than the emus, although I’m sure if they could have gotten away with pecking my eyes out, they would have.

Bock bock bagock!!!!

I would name this lil’ guy “Nugget.”

The unruliest animals were the ones in this cage though:

I would like to state for the record, that it was not ME who locked the children in there.

I would like to state for the record, that it was not ME who locked the children in there.

Revenge for the illegal jailing was pursued.

Sam will also peck your eyes out.

Sam will also peck you to death.

I have to say, Alex was skeptical about our trip to the petting farm. It was, however, one of our best outings in a long time. It was outside, so we could be loud and run; there was sufficient interaction to keep everyone’s interest; and we were able to see the entire farm and touch every single animal on it in two hours, meaning no one got overwhelmed.

See? Look? Most of them look not not unhappy!

Add some focus and take away one stranglehold and this photo is super close to being almost frame-able.

And that was Jean and Jack Day in Stimeyland. Pretty good, huh? The only thing I neglected to show you is Jack’s cake. I always get my cakes from the grocery store, but this time I was nervous because my instructions to the bakery, which they wrote verbatim on the order form, were “Make it look grassy. Kind of like it’s a field.”

They actually did a great job. Although it barely mattered considering that one of Jack’s gifts was a set of some awesome Minecraft figures and some plant foam cut into cubes. Jack’s face—hell, my whole family’s faces—were priceless when they saw this cake.

I came to dig.

I came to dig.

I hope that all of you had Mother’s Day/Jack’s Birthdays that were as good as ours was. Even though I didn’t get the traditional Mother’s Day gift of getting to avoid my family all day, it was one of the better days that I’ve had in a long, long time.

 

* Fingers also evidently look like rodent pellets. I say this based on the fact that I poked my finger in front of Jetpack the other day and she latched on, leaving me to yank my hand up, GERBIL STILL DANGLING FROM MY FINGER BY HER TEETH, until she finally fell off. It was quite traumatic, I tell you. The trauma was made even worse because no one was as concerned by the blood oozing out of the tiny puncture wound on the tip of my finger as I was. Fair warning: Jetpack has developed a taste for human blood. Remain vigilant.

Jack’s Smile-a-thon

The Montgomery Cheetahs held their Cheetah-thon today. It was not just a lot of fun, but a great success in raising money to keep this amazing organization moving along.

Jack skated for two hours straight at the rink today. Two hours. With a smile on his face the entire time. (Except for about five minutes after he fell and hurt his knee. Then he had a grimace and tears on his face. But the smile came back.)

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This smile.

Seriously. Jack was so happy and relaxed on the ice. He has become very at home there and with these people. In fact, he kind of barnacled himself onto the head coach for much of that two hours. (Sorry, coach.)

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Does that do to your heart what it does to mine?

We are so lucky to have found this community. We love you, Cheetah Nation.

We also love our Stimeyland friends. I am exhausted and going to bed. But I wanted to post these photos so you know what you are a part of.

Thank you to everyone who donated, including friends and recent donors Joey and Andy. Thank you to everyone who donated in honor of a Cheetah who wasn’t Jack. (I know. There are others.) Thank you to those donors whom I suspect I know, but who didn’t mark down that they were donating in honor of Jack so I don’t feel right claiming you even if you actually do belong to me. (Yes. You are mine.)

The entire Cheetah Nation and I are so grateful to everyone on this list for your donations. We are also extremely grateful to the people who organized and ran the Cheetah-thon. It is a tremendous amount of work and we can’t possibly thank you enough.

In Which I Beg You For Money (Wait! Don’t Click Away!)

I feel like I haven’t bludgeoned you all over the head with information about Jack’s hockey team and their upcoming Cheetah-thon fundraiser quite enough yet this year. Maybe that is because I still have a post to write about some of the fun things Jack and I did in Lake Placid and I keep thinking that I will bludgeon you then, but I figured while I am “in the process of writing” (aka, staring blankly at my computer screen), I would take a moment to tell you how much it would mean to me and to all of the other Cheetahs families if you would consider donating to our Cheetah-thon.

Jack is the one with the arrow pointing at him. Wouldn't it be funny if I had the arrow pointing at some random kid?

Jack is the one with the arrow pointing at him. (Wouldn’t it be funny if I had the arrow pointing at some random kid?)

I took that photo above at Jack’s last practice of the season, which took place a little over a week ago. Jack has been skating with the Cheetahs for three years, and three years I have known that this is one of the most incredible things I have ever been involved in.

There are dozens of athletes that play on this team. There are dozens of mostly high school-aged mentors who help those players learn hockey skills. Those dozens of mentors have parents who drive them to early morning practices every Saturday and who plan our Cheetah-thon as part of Bar Mitzvah projects. There are dozens of family members of Cheetahs who watch their children and brothers and sisters with pride in their hearts as they see just how incredibly capable these athletes are. There is a whole team of coaches and volunteers who plan drills, coordinate ice time, organize the mentors, plan tournaments, and skate with the players.

I’ve said it before: Special hockey matters. There is magic in special hockey.

The Cheetahs have a direct day-to-day impact on all of those people that I mentioned above. Jack has made so many friends through the Cheetahs. He’s become stronger physically and he’s become braver mentally. He gets to be a part of something. That is huge.

Then there is the ripple effect. All of these players, mentors, and families reach other people, talk to other people, let them know how amazing these Cheetahs are—not just on the ice, but as people. The magic of special hockey spreads. The message that these young people—typical and with disabilities—and what they do, what they ARE, matter.

If you are local, please consider joining us on May 11 from 5-7 pm at the Rockville Ice Arena for our Cheetah-thon. Hang out, participate in our raffles, and if the spirit moves you, get on the ice with our wonderful players and mentors. Team Stimey will be there and we would love to see you!

If you can’t come in person, I would be so grateful if you could donate to the Cheetahs. This money goes toward ice time, tournament expenses for players who otherwise couldn’t go, and other expenses that directly help these players. The Cheetahs are an all-volunteer organization so you can feel comfortable knowing that all of your money will go directly to the players. It’s tax deductible too!

You can donate on the Cheetahs’ fundraising page or by mailing a check to the address listed there. Be sure to mention Jack if you are donating in his honor so I can thank you. Also, Team Stimey will be matching donations made in Jack’s name up to $500 total. Your $5 donation will become $10! Your $50 donation will become $100! Your $1000 donation will become…well, $1500. Anything helps. And anything is appreciated—not just by me but by the entire Cheetah Nation.

My medium-sized champion thanks you too.

My medium-sized champion appreciates it too.

Thank you so much to all the wonderful people who have already donated to the Cheetah-thon. Mir, Michal, Laura, Stacy, and my mom and stepdad, you are making magic. Thank you.

Team Stimey’s Cheetah-thon total thus far: $300. Wow. You guys are awesome. See? Magic.

Miracle on Film

So you know what the people in charge of this special hockey tournament did? They gave us free drinks, let our kids dance freely and joyously to a DJ, then they played a video of footage taken over the past few days at the tournament.

Needless to say, I might have sobbed a little bit.

The Cheetahs on the big screen.

The Cheetahs on the big screen.

I mean, we all know I cry at the drop of a hat, but there was more to it than that. I cried those tears of joy and gratitude because I am so lucky to be part of this amazing team and this amazing greater special hockey community. I also cried those tears for many other reasons.

I cried because the highlights from the games showed just how well these teams play hockey. It is so cool to watch these players in clips that show off their skill and enthusiasm. But more than that, they showed how these teams support each other and build each other up. I have never seen any sports teams demonstrate as much good sportsmanship as I have seen at special hockey tournaments. You see coaches helping players on other teams, you see players congratulating their rivals on scoring goals, you see respect all over the ice.

You also see Jack occasionally knocking someone on the helmet with his stick, but that didn’t make the highlight reel, thank God.

The highlight reel also featured the athletes talking about hockey, talking about their teams, talking about what an incredible experience the tournament is. See, I write a lot about how incredible special hockey is from my point of view—because it is my point of view—but hearing about special hockey from all those different players’ points of views? It doesn’t surprise me, but it does make my heart happy.

Special hockey matters. It really, really matters. I want to take a minute to tell all of you who donated to last year’s Cheetah-thon something: Every family that came on this tournament was offered a stipend of half of their tournament costs so that more players could afford to come. You guys gave this experience to some of our players this weekend. You guys. You did this. That matters. These players and their families thank you. I thank you. You helped magic happen this weekend.

I didn’t need a highlight reel to show me that this weekend was magic, but it was such a happy experience to see that magic onscreen. Jack and I will never forget this weekend. Thank you to the Cheetahs for that. Thank you to the other families, the other teams, and the tournament organizers for that. And also? Thank you for that. You made magic happen.

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The Cheetahs are holding their second annual Cheetah-thon this May. If you are looking to do some charitable giving, definitely consider this amazing organization. You can donate online here: http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/mberger/2ndannualcheetah-thon

Thank you to Stimeyland’s first donation in honor of Jack: my mom and stepfather! Thank you so much!!

Placid

Hi, friends! Things are going well here in Lake Placid on Jack’s hockey tournament. We had a really lovely day exploring the town and the hotel and then Jack skated on one of the most famous ice rinks in all of America.

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Possibly my new favorite photo of Jack and me.

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That’s my baby skating on Olympic ice!

We did lots of really fun happy stuff today that I will tell you about later. We’re not going to dwell on the skinned knee from my dramatic fall to the sidewalk in front of practically everybody I know or the new, tessellated screen on my iPad resulting from an unfortunate meeting of it and some concrete. We’re just not going to fucking dwell on that shit, okay?

Instead, we’ll focus on how (with the exception of the 20 minutes after he dropped the iPad) every time I look at Jack when I’m on these tournaments, I am reminded of how in love with him I am and how lucky I am that he is in my life. He is adorable and hilarious and full of love and tenacity. I am so happy to be here with him.

Miracle on Bus

Jack and I are in Lake Placid, New York, right now with his special hockey team, the Montgomery Cheetahs. It is likely, if you have been around Stimeyland for a while, that you already know of the Cheetahs and the joy, opportunity, and community that they create—no more so than when out of town on a tournament.

Headed out of town

Headed out of town this morning.

These tournaments often mean far more to me than just watching my kid play a team sport. (Which, in and of itself, is kind of a big deal.) I was reminded of that this afternoon on our million-hour bus ride from DC to Lake Placid when I took a minute to sit back and notice some changes in Jack, long before he put a single skate on the ice in New York.

Jack has been playing hockey with the Cheetahs for three years now. He has been to special hockey tournaments in Boston, twice in Jamestown, New York, and now this one in Lake Placid. Two years ago when we went to Boston, we had a profound experience. I mean, it was profound like nothing I’d experienced before. But it was so goddamned hard at the same time.

Jack didn’t want to skate complete games at that tournament. He was dysregulated and overwhelmed. He didn’t know any of the other kids very well and therefore spent almost the entire weekend glued to my side—except when he was running off through crowds, leaving me to chase after him. I cried a lot of tears of stress that weekend and was buttressed by the community and my friends. I came away from that weekend with so much respect for the team, the players, the parents, the coaches, and for Jack.

The next year in Jamestown, I still cried a lot, but they were mostly tears of joy and amazement at the spirit of camaraderie and support between the players on the ice as well as the parents in the stands. It was a completely different experience, albeit with the same result: profound respect and gratitude to be a part of this group of people.

That tournament (and its sequel in Jamestown last November) showed me just how far Jack has come in the past couple of years.

I have no idea how the rest of the tournament this time is going to go, but I watched something today on the bus that made me take a moment to marvel at how much more interested in socializing Jack has become. Jack has always been lucky to have friends and he is very lucky to have a best friend (who is also a Cheetah, but didn’t come to the tournament this time). He is still very dependent, however, on scripts and familiarity. Back and forth unscripted conversation, especially with someone he isn’t already close to, doesn’t happen a whole lot.

A fellow parent first pointed it out to me. “They’re having a conversation,” she said, pointing at her son and mine giggling and talking as they played a game together on her son’s iPad. I sat back and took in the situation—Jack and a few of his teammates engaged in spontaneous conversation. I would watch him engage in this again later in the hotel swimming pool.

On the bus and at the pool, I watched Jack step out of Team Stimey’s safety zone to meet his teammates halfway. Instead of making them come to him, he went to them. This afternoon on the bus, Jack didn’t glue himself to my iPad in the seat next to me as he has in years past. He spent time walking up and down the aisles. Instead of staying in our two-seat world, he branched out, leaning over groups of kids playing games together, watching what other kids were doing, and sharing his own thoughts.

Frankly, it’s okay with me if Jack doesn’t like small talk with acquaintances. I find that kind of interaction to be extremely difficult as well. Regardless, it is often necessary and, with the right acquaintance, sometimes turns into something awesome. Also, there is no better way to discover new and fabulous things in the world than to hear someone else’s viewpoint. I’m glad that Jack is learning that too.

Now, certainly this isn’t all due to the Cheetahs. Jack has gotten older, he’s become more interested in other people, his abilities to cope and interact are greater, but I know that this team and its safe, supportive environment has been a big part of the development of his worldview.

I’m probably going to write a lot more about this tournament—and I plan to make a million and six Miracle on Ice jokes—but I also know that no matter how the hockey portion of the tournament plays out, Jack’s success in learning to be comfortable in a large, team environment like today’s bus trip has already made this trip (and the hours of practice and building blocks to get here) worth it.

Team Stimey’s Egg-cellent Adventure

Warning: Lots of egg puns ahead. Sorry.

This year, like every year, I had come to terms with the fact that Team Stimey was doomed to another year of celebrating Easter only with our regular family backyard Easter egg hunt on Sunday. (Jack found a 19th egg on Tuesday; where do you think that came from?) Then, on Friday, I got great news from my friend MCM Mama*, who introduced me to the lovely folks from Honest Tea, who had all-day passes to the White House Easter Egg Roll for my whole family.

I was so excited. I love big DC events. I mean, I knew it was likely to be a Team Stimey freakout fest, but with us, what isn’t?

Sure enough, on the way there, Jack was all, “I think I’m going to be sick,” and so we opened a lot of windows and then Quinn was all, “I am freezing!” so we rolled up most of the windows and then I suggested that we pull over, and Alex, who was driving us in the morning rush hour traffic, was all, “SERENITY NOW!”

Naturally, we walked almost entirely around the perimeter of the White House grounds in an effort to find the right entrance. During this long walk, both Alex and Quinn became increasingly disgruntled.

This was at the beginning of said walk before that smile disappeared from Quinn's face entirely. I, however, kept that giddy grin the whole stupid time.

This was at the beginning of said walk before that smile disappeared from Quinn’s face entirely. I, however, kept that giddy grin the whole stupid time.

By the time we actually got past security, Quinn was not happy…until he met the most fun squirrel in the history of fun squirrels.

Quinn got within a couple of inches of this guy. Me: "Oh good. It's rabid."

Quinn got within a couple of inches of this guy. Me: “Oh good. It’s rabid.”

He chattered happily about that squirrel right until we walked into the crowds and the chaos and the many characters wandering around. Me on the other hand? I was delighted. Especially when Smokey the Bear AND Woodsy Owl walked by together—it was like the holy grail of good samaritan animal costume characters.

I forced Jack to stand with me because it seemed more legitimate to pose with them if I had a kid with me.

I forced Jack to stand with me because it seemed more legitimate to pose with them if I had a kid with me.

I called, “Give a hoot!” after them as they departed. I don’t think anyone heard me. That’s probably for the best.

We decided to start with the egg roll, because, well the name of the event is the Easter Egg Roll and also because all of my kids were too old for the Easter Egg Hunt. There were dozens of reporters there with their cameras trained on the egg roll course. I was already imagining the local evening news with its footage of cute toddlers in Easter dresses rolling their eggs along with wooden spoons, followed by a shot of Quinn rolling on the grass and screaming as the anchor fake sympathized, “Aw, this little boy didn’t have much fun!”

I haven’t seen any such footage. Please don’t tell me if it exists.

Sam rocked his egg roll race against all those toddlers in their cute Easter clothes.

Sam, however, rocked his egg roll race against all those toddlers in their cute Easter clothes.

From there, it was over to the Eggtivity Zone where there were several different obstacle courses. Quinn had entirely checked out by this point and was playing Angry Birds on my iPhone, but Sam and Jack went through the obstacle courses several times.

Some properly and according to the rules...

Some properly and according to the rules…

...and some not.

…and some not.

Mid-obstacle race, the president and his family and the Easter Bunny showed up to greet Team Stimey…and the other folks in attendance. I guess.

Someday I am actually going to get a close up photo of that man.

Someday I am actually going to get a close up photo of that man.

Team Obama headed down to the egg roll area and Team Stimey headed off on an ultimately unsuccessful trek to find the people from Honest Tea to find some juice and say thank you. In a happy cowinkidink, we ended up penned in by hastily erected fences as the Obamas were headed off to various places on the lawn—the president to the tennis and basketball courts and the first lady to the healthy food section.

We might have gotten all up in Michelle’s face. Algernon took this opportunity to get reacquainted with Mrs. Obama.

Take note of the concerned looking lady in the mirrored sunglasses.

Take note of the concerned looking lady in the mirrored sunglasses.

There is nothing I won’t do for you people.

That was pretty cool, right? Well. It got even cooler just after that. The people right next to us had some sort of photos from their school that they were forcing on Mrs. Obama and they told her where they went to school. She started to move on when Jack piped up with, “I go to ****** Elementary School!”

She stopped, turned around and came back asking, “Are you doing good there? Are you getting good grades?” Jack told her yes and then she told him, “Keep up the good work, babe,” and then she touched both Sam and Jack on their heads and I may or may not have started jumping up and down.

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Jack and Sam, pre-conversation.

I don’t know why it is so exciting that she talked to my kids, but it was. Also, I love that Jack totally dragged her attention back. That kid has some sort of magnetic charisma. It is close to impossible to walk away from his awesome little face when he is is telling you something. Even the FLOTUS wasn’t immune.

Sam and FLOTUS' magic touch.

Jack and the FLOTUS’ magic touch.

After that, it was just a matter of killing time and making jokes about unjust imprisonment as we waited for the president to finish playing sports so security could remove the fence between us and the exit.

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Sam killed time by being his normal charming self. Algernon is going to need a bath.

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Quinn killed time by collapsing to the ground again. I’m making a collection of these photos. (Luray Caverns? Check! The White House? Check!)

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Jack killed time by learning—and then by using that magnifying glass and the sun to try to set some lady on fire.

Soon enough though the president headed back to the White House and we were free from our egg-citing adventure.

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This photo is a *little* closer.

We headed out and collected our souvenir Easter eggs, which were passed out along with Peeps, M&Ms, and goldfish crackers. This was Quinn’s favorite part of the egg-venture.

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You can see Alex and Quinn up there on the left. I felt I should point out that they were there as they didn’t figure prominently in this post.

From there, Alex headed back to work (sad) and the rest of us headed home to collapse on the couch (happy). I know that we’ll probably never go back to the egg roll now that we’ve done it once, but I am so happy that we got to experience it. Thank you so much, Honest Tea!

* MCM Mama just ran five half marathons in five different states in five days. She is a rock star. You should totally read her series of posts about those races.

Disclosure: Honest Tea provided my family with tickets to the Easter egg roll, which, although free, we would not have been able to obtain otherwise. A super nice rep for the company also dropped off loads of egg-cellent tea and juice from their line on my porch last weekend.

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I wrote an egg-ceptional column at White Knuckle Parenting about why I wanted to go to the egg roll even though I knew it would most likely be a nightmare: Surviving the White House Easter Egg Roll. Check it out!