Parenting: Pet fish by the pound

“Good morning, Gil. I said, good morning, Gil.”

Ahh, summer carnival season. It’s almost over, but if you’re lucky enough, you have one keepsake or two from that special night you spent with your family. Close your eyes and you can almost smell it. That warm June night where you dropped $85 on nine (9) rides (of dubious construction and unknown operator sobriety), one (1) funnel cake, five (5) chances on the balloon dart game (Beyonce poster, yes!), two (2) orders of cheese fries, a few spins of the wheel at the chuck-a-luck table, and five (5) chances to get a ping pong ball into a vase for a goldfish.

Carnival goldfish. It’s exciting to win “stuff” at a carnival, but winning a LIVING thing is just the apex of prize winning. You win a soul. I mean, a soul that will probably only live between 6 and 18 hours, that doesn’t feel empathy, that you can’t pet, and that cost the carnival ~$.015–but a soul nonetheless. If the good people who run these carnivals really thought about it, they would sell little “goldfish starter kits” for $20 right next to the game. (Small tank, canister of food, bag of rocks. Boom.) But, alas, the carnival cooperatives haven’t decided to do this quite yet. You cross your fingers that your goldfish makes it home alive (or not, perhaps) and then you scrounge around in your garage at 11:00 PM trying to find your old tank. Or worse, you grab the big ricotta cheese container you’ve been saving with the rest of your Tupperware (clean, preferably), fill it with water and tell yourself, “just for tonight.”

Carnival goldfish inevitably enable us to teach our kids about the circle of life. In a way, the carnival people might be providing one of the greatest services to us parents. We get the opportunity to discuss life and death with our kids. Understand care and feeding. Feel love for something that relies on you. Create burial practices, understand loss. Conversely, this “prize” allows parents to lie and deceive our children by any means possible (another great skill to hone to deflect discussing one of life’s difficult issues) to replace the dead fish with a similar looking one before the kid finds “the floater.”

When my kids won a goldfish this year at the fair, ONE goldfish, they decided to spend $100 of their birthday money on a 10 gallon tank setup the next day (complete with kitschy “No Fishing” sign, faux plants, “deep sea” backsplash, rocks, and the all important filter.) I have to admit, it was kind of cool to have a nice tank after all these years. I thought this new guy had a fighting chance.

If you can keep the fish–or a series of lookalikes–great. You’ve succeeded. However, if you’re like most people, even with a fancy schmancy new fish tank, the fish die and you are left with an empty tank. You can perform an unceremonious flush of the deceased, or have an all out funeral (with eulogy and burial.) I’ve had both and everything in between.

At a certain point, the death of your fish is no longer a sad event for everyone, it’s just annoying. Trip after trip to the pet store to pick up the next round of goldfish becomes onerous. There had to be an easier way.

The last time we went fishing, we caught a lot of bluegill and sunfish. A lot. I usually just let the kids catch them and then release them back into the lake. But I just kept thinking of that empty tank. That sad empty tank. Fast forward two hours to our 10 gallon tank full of 4 inch pan fish. I had just been to LL Bean store and they seemed to be *thriving* in their tanks at the retail location. Well, I never thought I’d say this out loud, but the next day I muttered, “I really hope that bluegill doesn’t get stuck in the toilet.”

So, what I’ve decided to do now, is to go down to the local bait shop and buy minnows. Yes, minnows. They are pretty hearty, they are active in the tank, and the best part, they are sold…by the pound. I’ve resorted to buying my pets based on weight. It’s come to this.

Thank God I didn’t have to buy my beagle this way.

“Gunner. ‘Big boned’ like his mom.”

The best parenting advice you can ever give. Ever.

I attended a lovey baby shower last week. After being seated, each guest was asked to write one piece of advice for the new mom-to-be. I assumed these notes would be assembled into a cute little memory book, to be enjoyed later by the new parents.

Woops.

Instead, a “piece of advice” was pulled every 15 minutes, read aloud, and then the person responsible for the advice received a prize (from a tree decorated with gift certificates). Towards the end of the shower, I thought I was home free. After countless and sweet “enjoy every minute,” and “assemble x, y, z into scrapbooks,” guess whose advice was chosen dead last to wrap up the whole shower? Yup, mine.

“Dear Maureen, my advice to you is to listen to everyone’s advice and to tell them that it is wonderful and that you will follow it exactly…then promptly ignore it and do whatever the hell you want.”

Thankfully, it went over surprisingly well with all of the other advice-givers.

"Even if he don't, he's gotta have his dip-tet. He's gotta have his dip-tet, honey!"

Parenting: Your Disney PSA

I am a non-confrontational person. It’s just my nature. I know and understand the topics that cause the most vehement, animated, thoughtful, and sometimes just plain angry discourse…and usually stay very far away from them. It’s difficult to change someone’s opinion, you can just love them and respect them and hope they do the same back to you.

Growing up, you are told that there are certain topics to avoid in polite conversations. The big ones: money, politics, and religion. Do yourself a favor and add “Disney” to that list. If you ever publicly speak ill of Disney or critique it in any way, please–be prepared. People Love Disney (TM) and they think something is wrong with you if you don’t. You need to know. No one else but me is going to have the balls to tell you this. You’re welcome.

PGH: field trips & activities (the list!)

A working list of things to do (that you might haven’t tried yet) around Pittsburgh!

Pure Pittsburgh

• Klavon’s Ice Cream Parlor

http://klavonsicecream.com/

Located in Pittsburgh’s Strip District, Klavon’s is an authentic 1920’s Art Deco soda fountain/ drugstore. Everything in the building is original—you really feel like you stepped back in time.  Sit at the bar and order your favorite ice cream soda and then pick out some penny candy.

• Pittsburgh Penguins open practice

If you like hockey, you know how expensive it can be to take your whole family to a game. For the last two years, the Pittsburgh Penguins have held “open practices” at the Consol Energy Center. Fans can come to the Consol and watch the Penguins practice for free. It’s a nice event, and a real treat to see all your favorite Penguins skating.

Shopping

• Baldinger’s

http://www.baldingerscandy.com/

About an hour’s drive north of Pittsburgh lies the small hamlet of Zelionople, PA. Take your kids to an old fashioned candy store located right outside of the city, Baldinger’s Foods From All Nations. Check out the amazing candy selection and then the old timey way the clerks ring you up (the register won’t tally more than $9.99 at a time!) A really fun thing for the kids to do.

If you’re out and about on a weekend, check out a movie at The Strand Theater after your trip to Baldinger’s. The Strand is an historic theater in the heart of Zelionople. http://www.thestrandtheater.org/

Take cash.

• Esther’s Hobby Shop

http://www.esthershobby.com/

Located in the heart of Millvale, PA, Esther’s is a wonderful little hobby shop. The owner is always available, friendly, and helpful. Although they specialize in HO gage trains, there are all sorts of cool kits and models for kids and adults.

After you’re done here, hop across the street to Pamela’s for lunch (Michelle Obama ate here!) and then over to Jean Marc Chatellier’s authentic French bakery  http://jeanmarcchatellier.com/  for some dessert. Round out your visit with a visit to the Attic Record Store http://atticrecordstoreinc.com/ for some old vinyl.

Random

• Build a teepee

Don’t ask. Just try it. Read all about it here.

• Build an ice skating rink

I’m lucky enough to have a neighbor who puts up a rink every winter. More and more people are giving this a shot. It’s a great way to keep the kids busy during long cold winters.

Outdoors

• Butler Farm tour

http://www.visitbutlercounty.com/festivals-events/agricultural-festivals/butler-county-farm-tour

Every September, farms across Butler open their doors to the public for an insider’s peek into how they work. In the past, participating farms have included a dairy farm, a wild game bird farm, and a working alpaca farm. Wonderful trip for a fall day, and the best part is: it’s free.

• Allegheny County Outdoor Ice Rinks

http://www.alleghenycounty.us/parks/fees/skate.aspx

Beginning right around Thanksgiving, Allegheny County opens their outdoor ice rinks in North Park and South Park. My family and I go to North Park’s rink just about every winter weekend. It’s so nice to skate outside in the crisp air, right next to North Park Lake, especially with a light snow falling. The rates are very affordable and the buiding is an awesome retro 1960’s throwback.

• Fishing

Learn to bait a hook and take the kids fishing. Pack a lunch and your lawn chairs. Even if you don’t catch anything, you’ll have a good time.

Music/Entertainment

• Hartwood Acres Free Summer Concert Series

http://www.alleghenycounty.us/parks/hwfac.aspx#events

Every Sunday during the summer months, the county hosts free concerts at Hartwood Acres and South Park. It’s great way to unwind after a hectic summer weekend. Lots of families, kids, Frisbee games, dogs, and a nice vibe in general. Always an eclectic mix of music and entertainment, we look forward to Sunday nights in the summer.

• North Washington Rodeo

http://www.nwvfd.com/rodeo/

Since 1959, every third week of August, the small town of North Washington, PA has turned into the “Rodeo Capital of the East.” About an hour’s drive north of Pittsburgh, you can watch bull riding, calf roping, barrel racing and all other sorts of fun rodeo events. Food is cheap and good, and everyone is friendly. It’s a real American experience that’s a short drive from home. You can buy chances to win a live steer, pig, and pony. If you win and can’t bring it home (what, no barn!?)…no problem. Your prize also has an auction value that you can sell right back for the cash.

• Pirate games

The kids don’t care that they stink and the tickets are always available and relatively cheap. Swing for the “All You Can Eat Tickets.” These tickets include admission in addition to unlimited amounts of hot dogs, hamburgers, popcorn, peanuts, pop, nachos, and ice cream for the duration of the game. The cost for the unlimited “stuff your face experience” starts at about $40. Regular tickets start at $10 for adults and $6 for kids. http://pittsburgh.pirates.mlb.com/pit/ticketing/ayce_seats.jsp

Education

• FIRST Robotics Competition

http://www.pittsburghfirst.org/

When I attended this robotics competition a couple years ago, I couldn’t help but think, “I wish they had this when I was a nerd!” A robotics competition complete with pumping music from a DJ, professional lighting, electric vibe, and kids from all over the United States and Canada. High School teams compete at the University of Pittsburgh’s Peterson Event Center for a chance to participate at the national competition. The high schoolers are given their robotic challenge in January and are given only two months to complete a robot that can complete the challenge tasks. This is a great opportunity to see truly gifted young adults.

• Zoo classes

http://www.pittsburghzoo.org/Education/ChildAndFamilyPrograms

The Pittsburgh Zoo and PPG Aquarium is always a big hit with kids. Since the zoo is open mostly every day of the year, we like to go on colder days (when the animals are more active) or overcast/rainy days (when there are no crowds!) The zoo offers great classes and often give participants a chance to get close up with some special animals, maybe even pet them!

• Libraries

http://www.clpgh.org/

Pittsburgh offers a wonderful library system with access to interlibrary loans between almost every Carnegie and most suburban branches. There are always programs available for all ages. Check out the beautiful Carnegie locations, especially the main library in Oakland and the Homestead branch, which also hosts concerts in a lovingly restored theater.

History

• Soldiers and Sailors Hall (Oakland section of Pittsburgh)

http://www.soldiersandsailorshall.org/index.html

Great place for the military history buff (and budding military history buff). Wonderful exhibits feature both a national and Pittsburgh-centric view of the military history of the United States. After your visit inside, the kids can hang from the cannons out front, then walk a block down the street and get some of “world famous” “O” French fries.

• The Old Stone House (Slippery Rock, Pennsylvaia)

http://oldstonehousepa.org/

Special activities planned all year round. Try to check out the fronstierman/woman rendezvous and military re-enactment weekends. Lovingly curated by staff and volunteers from Slippery Rock University, experience a step back in time with unprecedented access to an historical gem of a building.

• Heinz History Center

http://www.heinzhistorycenter.org/c

Built in the shell of an old ice house, the Heinz Hisotry Center is the  premiere western Pennsylvania history museum. Highlights include hands on exhibits for kids, stellar permanent exhibits, and world class traveling exhibits. Don’t miss the Special Collections section which is really like stepping into a well organized and super cool attic housing Pittsburgh history.

Long Weekend Trips

• Oil Creek and Titusville Railroad

http://octrr.org/

Over 150 years ago, many small towns north of Pittsburgh were booming with the spoils of the oil industry. After the first successful us of a drilling rig, oil towns popped up all over northwestern Pennsylvania from the 1850’s into the early 20^th century. This train trip takes a rider back in time, and gives a history lesson about a time when the back woods were littered with boom towns.

The train runs through the beautiful Pennsylvania woods, most notably Oil Creek State Park, and boasts of having the only working Railway Post Office. Riders can enjoy the trip from the comfort of the antique rail cars, or bike half of the trip and then pack their bike on the rail cars for the second half of the trip back to the station.

If you go and want to stay the night, you can stay in the railroad’s Caboose Motel: http://octrr.org/caboosemotel.htm. Stay in one of the 21 refurbished caboose cars (with all the amenities of a regular hotel room). The train offers seasonal trips such as a fall foliage tour, murder mystery trips, and rides with Santa and the Easter Bunny.

• Toronto, Canada

It helps to have relatives here, but I would love this city, regardless. Border rules have changed, so a birth certificate is no longer adequate to cross over the border. I would suggest a passport card for the kids if you’re driving. It’s a cheaper alternative to a passport, but will only work when driving across the border. Check out Niagra Falls and the Hockey Hall of Fame. It’s such a wonderful city, and it’s only about 5 hours from Pittsburgh.

• Washington, D.C.

A great destination trip to take with kids. We stay outside of the city for deeply discounted hotels (relative to staying in downtown DC). Plus, having to take the metro everywhere adds a bit of fun to anything. The key is to try not to do too much. For a two night, one day trip, pick one “must see” location and let the rest fall into place. You’ll always find interesting things to see, and won’t be disappointed.

• Wheeling Nailers Game

http://www.wheelingnailers.com/

As I mentioned before, taking the whole family to a Pittsburgh Penguins hockey game can be expensive. However, for much less, you can drive to Wheeling WV (about an hour and a half away) and catch a Wheeling Nailers game. The Nailers are the ECHL affiliate team for the Pittsburgh Penguins. The team offers some really great deals for a family, and you can catch a game and stay overnight for under $150.

Santa is not a “first responder.”

Every year around this time, our local fire department (one of three in the township) drives a big fire truck around the streets; sirens blaring, lights flashing, and Christmas music playing. That would probably be cool enough for my kids, but, there’s something even more awesome to this scenario, something even better: Santa is standing up on that fire truck! Waving! Ho Ho Ho-ing! Big spotlight on him! BIG! When we hear the sirens within about a 3 mile radius we are like Navajo Wind Talkers trying to figure out how close or far off the engine is. When he (HE) finally arrives, the kids excitedly run up to the road, talk to Santa for a minute or two, and get a few candy canes. My husband and I usually duke the firemen a little to cover gas, or beers for later. Whatever, we don’t care. It’s awesome.

The only problem with this event, is that this fire department doesn’t come past our house with Santa on an engine every year. Our township is huge, and in many parts pretty sparsely populated. I understand it’s probably tough to get to every street every year, I understand. The worst thing, though, the absolute WORST, are the years when the bedazzled engine crosses over our road at the corner and just keeps going. They don’t turn on our street, nary a stop at the stop sign. The crossroads is about 200 yards away…so the kids could run for it, but they’re usually just too busy freaking out that the engine isn’t turning. For as fun as this happening is some years, other years it is just torturous.

Santa in front of our house, 2008.

So last night on our way to Cub Scouts, there, at the end of our street we saw *gasp* a fire truck with lights a blazing! This was it! The big guy was. On. Our. Street!

Finally. Our turn.

So, being mother of the year, I roll down EVERYONE’S windows. We’re gonna see him. We’re gonna talk to him. He’s *our* road’s Santa tonight!

Now, as we approach the engine, the boys are really having at it. Screaming: “SANTA!! IT’S SANTA!!!!! HE’S HEEEERREEEE! WHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!” Loud. I mean, Santa’s not gonna miss us this time.

Then, as we get a little closer, I notice that the truck isn’t moving. Hmm, I figure Santa’s just inside the engine, doing some last minute primping. Getting candy canes in order. Texting the missus. Brushing his beard. You know, Santa stuff. But those lights are still going. He has to be in there!

Finally, we’re right in front of the engine, and–boy this is weird–it’s in MY lane? Facing me. Parked. Now, the kids are still screaming. And they’re still loud. They’re not letting Santa pass them by this year. I will also add that they are now unbuckled and halfway out of their respective windows. Whooooo! Throw caution to the wind, this is Santa!

At this point of the story, I would like to take this opportunity to extend my sincerest apologies to the family at the end of our street who may (or may not) have been dealing with a very serious emergency last night when *that* fire engine was parked right outside of their house. With the engine’s emergency lights on. Red and white lights spinning.

On an emergency call.

When we were screaming with joy out of the Blazer’s windows, we really, I mean really, didn’t know that someone inside might have, oh, say, just had a heart attack, or that maybe your basement was on fire. I swear. And I really hope everything’s OK today. I sincerely do. And please, I don’t want you to think that we were celebrating your hardship, and subsequently booing for any reason other than our disappointment that Santa was not on that engine.

I’m sure you understand, right? When I drove past you and your family members (slow motion movie scene style) and you were all glaring at us from your front porch, I could see a glimmer of understanding.

Hope you duked the drivers…

I sincerely hope to see you again in 2011, big guy.

Saint Nicholas Day: a parent’s guide on what *not* to do

Growing up, we didn’t celebrate Saint Nicholas Day. I remember certain kids coming into school talking about this cool and mysterious holiday. All I could gather was that they put their shoes out one night and got little gifts in them the next…and I did not. I’m not (that) bitter, but that’s about all I remember about the holiday.

Recently, my mother and sister took a trip to Holland for my beautiful cousin’s wedding. They brought us back these awesome wooden shoes. Now, I guess we found out the rule for fitting wooden shoes a little too late: take what your shoe “looks” like and then buy a pair of wooden shoes TWICE that size. The older boys (kind of THANK GOD) couldn’t wear theirs, but the youngest took full advantage of clogging around in a pair.

Since the shoes were just so beautiful (and let’s be honest: super annoying), we decided that the best use of these art pieces would be to set them out for Saint Nicholas Day.

So, like I explained earlier, I didn’t grow up with this tradition, so I rely on the internet for all the backup (i.e. country of origin, date to place out shoes, etc.). My kids don’t mind that I’m pretty vague about it, they just know that they’re getting some stuff in their shoes. However, one of my kids was very curious this year…

Carmen: “So, where does Saint Nicholas come from?”

Me: “Germany.”

Carmen” “Does he speak German?”

Me: “Yes.”

Carmen: “Well how does he sound?”

Me (in my best 11th grade German): “Ich bin blah, blah, blah, blah.”

Carmen (after a thoughtful pause): “I’m kind of…freaked out by Germans.”

Me: “Well, Germans aren’t scary. AND, Saint Nick has helpers. Maybe helpful and friendly ghosts will help deliver the gifts. Maybe Pap Pap!”

So, the kid is slightly appeased. But, let’s break this down: I basically just told him the ghost of HIS DEAD GRANDFATHER was coming into the house to deliver his goodies.

What is wrong with me?

I mean if GERMANS freak him out, what is the thought of a ghost in the house going to do?

I really did have good intentions, but fast forward about five minutes. He comes out crying. He doesn’t want a German OR a ghost bringing absolutely anything into the house. We talk. We compromise. We decide that the shoes can go outside. He was pleased with this idea, and he was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Happy Saint Nicholas Day!

One more punch in my kid’s future therapy card.

Staycation: 2011

Every year, I am forced to take a “vacation” during the third week of August. Daycare is closed for the youngest that week and all summer programs for the older boys have finished. It’s an odd paradigm for working parents, this forced vacation, but a common one. I seldom plan a real, live “go away” vacation. Going anywhere with three kids aged 8 and under is neither appealing to me, nor feasible for many reasons–but that’s for another post. So, the third week of August is devoted to me and the kids and our week-long local adventures and distractions undertaken from basecamp (read: home). Here are some outtakes from the week taken from my field journal (read: scraps of paper and previous facebook posts).

Pyramid of cuteness and destruction.

Field report: Monday.

First day of “staycation” with all the boys. West Deer, PA. Carmen found a fossil in the front yard, Paul broke my antique framed print of a girl and her dog that I’ve had since I was little, I made homemade stuffed crust pizza, and Anthony got caught in a mouse trap (the glue kind). Overall, a moderate success.

Homemade Pizza: Boom.

Field report: Tuesday.

Second day of “staycation” with all the boys. West Deer, PA. Tired. Carmen caught a huge, angry snapping turtle (I commandeered the line, totally froze and had no idea what to do, and promptly (and kind of thankfully) lost it), Paul didn’t break anything, I lost one of the last four fly fishing flies that I had of my father’s, and when I asked Anthony what time it was on his Spiderman watch, he said “27.” When asked again, “banana.” Overall, a moderate success.

Seriously scary snapping turtle.

Field report: Wednesday.

Third day of “staycation” with all the boys. West Deer, PA. Disgruntled; losing good humor and motivation. Almost had fisticuffs with the crazy lady in the vet waiting room who repeatedly called Gunner fat. Stopped at Sheetz on the way home and the kids insisted on “accidentally” mispronouncing it “Shitz” the remainder of the day. Welcomed home the in-laws from their 3 week trip to Greece and hometown in Italy; got lots of swag. Not dead. Overall, a moderate success.

Field report: Thursday.

Four “Funday” passes to Kennywood: $80
Playing games until the boys each won a prize: $20
Potato Patch Fries and drinks: $25
The look on your kids faces when they’re feeding their soft pretzel to ducks in the Kennywood pond: a total goddamn waste of $3.75

Trying to hurt/maim Cowboy Joe

Field report: Friday.

Details are sparse. Only things in field journal: “Thinking about going to the rodeo tonight and sitting on aluminum bleachers with chance of thunderstorms. #badideajeans?” and “Lost: Very small frog. Reward: Anthony.”

Frog that was lost sometime Friday.

Field report: Saturday.

Sums Saturday afternoon up pretty nicely.

Kim Kardashian is having her $25M nups today. Here’s *my* day in a nutshell: 1. I’m drinking Miller Light for lunch, 2. my youngest just threw a hoe at me (not a prostitute), 3. a spider was building a web *in the bill of the hat I was wearing,* 4. I just took 2 Imodiums, 5. my kitchen floor looks like a scene from M*A*S*H (seriously, who needed 14 band-aids, I didn’t even see any blood or hear screaming).
And if you ask me if I’d like to trade places with Kim for the day: absofuckinglutely.

Medical waste? We’ll never really know.

Oh, and we went to the North Washington Rodeo.  We bought tickets for $1 for chances to win a live steer, a live pig, a live colt, and a live miniature pony. “Sadly,” we did not win.

Parades and rodeos…forget it. I get all USA and misty eyed.

There is a town called Hooker, PA that you drive through to get to the rodeo. Never gets old for me.

Field report: Sunday.

We drove by a cemetery today and there were about 100 crows covering a section close to the road. It was a poignant sight to me, and  it cut a beautiful shape against the morning sky. Not macabe, just symbolic and there for the looking.

My one twin spoke up after taking in the sight, “You mean to tell me…all these birds, they’re allllll visiting dead people?”: head in the stars.

My other twin to his brother, “They are just. Eating. Worms. Duh.”: anvil of truth.

****

Well I think they’re both right…it’s just in how you want to look at things, what you *want* to believe.  I was a stay-at-home mom for three years. It was wonderful, and lonely, and fun, and freeing, and maddening, and a little sad. After careful thought, I made a choice to go back to a wage-earning job. My recent staycation was the first week since then that I missed staying home. Parenting is hard, and you seldom know if you are doing the right thing. Don’t worry, if you are doing your best, your kids will love you either way.

Anthony totally tangled in fishing line; confused; filthy.

Your time with your children (in any capacity) will provide a lifetime of wonderful memories for them to cherish. They will remember so many mundane details and thank you someday : head in the stars.

As long as you love them, feed them, house them, clothe them, and provide—your kids will probably (for real) not remember much of the details that you pine over, but—you will have succeeded in getting them into adulthood as functional members of society: anvil of truth.

Just try to enjoy the ride. Most importantly, relax. Seriously. Take it easy on yourself. Everything will be OK. As long as all the frogs are accounted for at the end of the day, you will have succeeded.

Back to school. Paul is probably hiding the lost frog behind his back there…

Give a kid a fish and he can eat, teach a kid to fish: you have attained a state of zen yet to be described

I come from a family of avid fishers (Not of the weasel family. And “fisherpeople” just sounded like an extinct humanoid species found in a dried up lake bed in Montana, so I’m rolling with fishers, kay?). I grew up hearing great fishing stories from my dad about his fishing trips with my grandfather. And by fishing stories, I want to be clear that these stories had absolutely NOTHING to do with fish size, and most of the time were not even about the act of fishing itself.

The very awkward 1980′s looking author: very proud of her trout

They were some of the stories that helped me to delineate (at an early age) 1. what I think is funny 2. what is considered horribly wrong and 3. how sometimes horribly wrong things can be very funny. For example, a family favorite story was when my dad was fishing with my grandfather, and my dad’s line got snagged. Now when you’re 8-years-old and you think that your line is stuck in a bush/tree/unknown brush pile, it is normal for that kid to pull on that line AS HARD AS HE CAN to get it unstuck. The only problem was that my dad’s line was connected to my grandfather’s neck. Horrible: yes. Hilarious: yes. Sorry, it’s just how things evolved for me. But fishing is how my family has spent a lot of time together through many, many generations and years.

I’ve fished my whole life. One time, my friend Amy and I went to a little pond around our camp in Clarion County, PA where I used to fish as a kid. A sweet honey hole of a place, tucked into the back 40 of a farm. We drove for miles and miles and then started down the long dirt road to the pond. We passed the old farmhouse and furiously waved at the family that lived there who were out in the yard. Since I hadn’t really known them well from my childhood, I just figured since they waved back, they remembered me and everything was cool. We settled into their canoe, fished for the afternoon, caught some trout for dinner, and then headed back to the camp. When we came back to the camp we told my dad about our awesome day of fishing. My father broke the news to us: the people we knew who owned that farm hadn’t lived there for years. So since I’m sure they’re reading this, I’d like to take this opportunity to thank the landowners that let those two crazily waving and friendly girls drive to their pond, jump into their canoe, and have a great day of fishing. Thanks again, that was awesome. Here’s a shot of Amy after that day.

Amy very proud of her fish; also, dinner.

Now that I have kids of my own, I’ve made it one of my jobs to teach them about fishing. Not just about the sport (baiting, setting a hook, casting, and in most cases, releasing) but about the experience (keeping your gear organized, packing light, bringing snacks, leaving your fishing spot better than how you found it, sitting peacefully, and respecting the quietness of the outdoors). Now I have three kids between the ages of 3 and 8. I take them all with me every time I go, which is fairly often as I have a county park with three great lakes within 5 minutes of my house. This is something I do without my husband, he hasn’t the patience or the desire. It’s our time: me and my boys, and it is my favorite time.

Paulie in a state of zen, thinking about where his 4 opened root beers are.

What I’m learning is that taking a child fishing is really not about the child at all, it’s not even about fishing. If you take a kid fishing, you will not do one thing for yourself. and I mean that sincerely. You will completely give yourself over to something else, and most importantly somebody else.

Aside from all that squishy stuff, you’re going to create great memories and garner some funny stories of your own, for posterity’s sake. A few weeks ago I took the boys out to the lakes. It began raining torentially. My three-year old decided to run away from me, around the lake. Now, normally, this is not a big deal. But he has become FAST and I was after him in hot pursuit, and I was losing miserably. To add insult to injury, the men who were fishing across the lake began shouting “Run Mummy, RUN!!” ala Forrest Gump. Now that I look back, yep, that was both horrible and hilarious. So, to those guys who, again, are surely reading this blog, thanks for that. It didn’t strike me as funny when it was happening, and the joke was about 10 years too late, but, yeah, I’ll give you some funny points in hindsight. But guess what, I win. I’m a wicked-cool mummy who takes her boys fishing.

The one “who got away” ala Forrest Gump. Glo Bait is also great for a toddler’s lunch.

So, in short, let me prepare you for a day of fishing with your children:

• Children change bait like James Brown changed outfits. This is approximately 30 times; you will be responsible for most of the hooking and unhooking.
• They will be able to cast out after the first year, but expect lots of snags. Sometimes they will bring you rods/lines that are so enmeshed that you just have to cut all the lines and start over. You’re not Houdini; don’t try to be.
• They will all of a sudden begin acting as if they have just ended a 40 day Master Cleanse and will demand copious amounts of food and beverages. Factor in about 25 minutes of just opening pop cans and chip bags.
• When they get bored, they will entertain the possibility of catching a duck and ask accordingly. (Answer: no)
• Don’t think that you will be able to cast your own rod out and fish. Your main job is to ensure that your youngest child does not a.)  jump into the lake or b.) throw his rod into the lake (too many times.)
• Just remember that you are there, there is nothing else going on, and you are all together.

If you can take three kids fishing, you can seriously do anything. Really, you should try it, just make sure you have some good running shoes.

Carmie very proud of catching some type of kelp-like water vegetation.

(Day)dreaming

Most of us have dreamed about winning the lottery…tonight I have created a list of things I will buy for myself when that day comes. (in no specific order)

• Buffalo. About 50. To be purposed for my buffalo ranch (open to the public!). People love buffalo: they’re super-prehistoric looking, furry, cute, and delicious.
• An Addams Family pinball machine. If I have to explain it, you wouldn’t understand.
• A Super Chexx bubble hockey game. (ibid)
• A laundress. Is there a male or gender-neutral equivalent of this word? Launderer, I guess. Whatever. I just want someone to take care of anything and everything related to laundering. Forget a cook, I like doing that.
• A few pair of Frye boots. If I just had to pick one: The Carson Riding Boot.
• One of these things:

• An addition to my house with the following:

1. A screening room. I envision film festival themes, like: Matt Dillon Monday (Over the Edge, Drugstore Cowboy, The Outsiders). Or Fraggle Rock: The complete collection, etc.
2. A room just for my bench from the Civic Arena, maybe with some of that fake ice in it. Who’s laughing now?
3. A library with: a fireplace, white furniture, a few library ladders straight off of a Nancy Drew cover, a Keurig coffee maker, many Charley Harper prints on the wall, and a sweet wet bar.
4. A fireplace with a built-in pizza/bread oven

• A zip-line running from my house down to the creek (~250 yards)
• A brass firehouse pole so I can slide down into my basement family room from my living room .

Honorable mentions

• A bakery-sized commercial Cuisinart mixer and dough roller.
• Season tickets to the Pittsburgh Penguins.
• A pied-à-terre in Bloomfield/Friendship.
• An elevated “woods village.” A series of treehouses and hanging bridges that you could walk in between.

Yep, I think that’ll do it.

Best. Kids. Timeout bench. Ever.

Here it is: I didn’t feel any sense of nostalgia when I heard we would be losing the Civic Arena. In fact, I was almost giddy that Pittsburgh was trying to (gasp) plan a 28-acre city space that could be useful and beneficial for downtown growth. The Igloo. Gone. Sacrificed for the greater good of our city. Offered up to the Gods of public sport. Home to our beloved Eskimos?

All was well and good with my historical conscience. I was amenable to the idea, heck, I wanted it to be demolished–now. That is…until I made the long trek down Mario Lemieux Place to the Consol Energy Center for open Penguins practice in September of 2010.

The Consol. The savior of Pittsburgh hockey. The house that Mario built. I took all my boys down and parked on the road that led around the arena. There was a fence that was erected around the perimeter now, and we walked the long path to the Consol, past the old arena ticket windows, right by the steps leading down from the parking lots, and under the steel trestle. All four of us in a row, walking slowly, goofing off, and looking at all the vinyl signs in the windows with larger than life action shots of last season’s players. I reminisced:

• Going to my first Pens game with my Dad. I was just 11 years old  and my Mom had won hockey tickets at a church bingo. They were taped to an autographed hockey stick. The autograph was by a new guy on the team, a few years older than me: number 66. It was crush at first sight.
• The 80′s and 90′s, hockey hair, Le Magnifique. Watching game after game with Tim, Justin, and Jon. Going to games with Robertson. Two Stanley Cups.
• In the late 90′s and during my tenure at Mellon, the Penguins were practically GIVING tickets away to employees of their corporate sponsor. Those years were filled with hockey for my husband and me, even through the team went through some pretty uneventful seasons. That is, until that game in late December of 2000 where Mario unexpectedly came back to play. We thought it would be just another game when we bought the tickets, but I can still see his jersey number banner being lowered down from the ceiling.
• In 2010, just last year, I went to my first playoff game and I witnessed a Sidney Crosby hat trick: a goal, an assist…and a save.

The Consol was nice. It was clean. It was sanitary. It was open. It was quiet. It was…beige. I missed the narrow halls of the arena, the public parade of fans in an unintentional moving mosh mob. I missed the din of the crowd; somehow noise was lost in the new place. I missed feeling close to the ice, on top of the players. I missed the dirty walls, the fluorescent lighting.

I missed…the old place.

How did I handle my new conundrum? How did I allay my Pittsburgh (Catholic) guilt and make things right? The Consol is what the team needed and why they stayed. What could I do to make the transition easier?

By buying a piece of the old Civic Arena, of course.

I would like to welcome the newest addition to the Sciullo household to you. This, this ladies and gentlemen, is Tag#CA6765.

The Civic Arena memorabilia auction was the perfect way for us to say so long. Now, I could keep a piece of my beloved Igloo and move on. I tried to buy a turnstile, but was outbid. I thought about buying a ticket window, but that would turn into a Kohler commercial: “design a house around this (ticket window).” I let that one go. My friends bought an enormous sign of the section where they sat on their first date together. Everything was for the taking. The toilet from Lemieux’s luxury suite was even listed, but later taken down. But the bench: it was mine.

Just remember, when you’re pining over the Civic Arena, the characters and props in this tragedy are still there. The players, the fans, the people in the beer line (that ALL look familiar), the excellent mullets that still abound, the kids going to their fist game, the jersey-ed masses, the nachos and beer, **the cotton candy guy. They are still there, just as they were in a stainless steel dome against a gray and dirty background. Only now, that stainless steel dome has been replaced by a shiny glass and brick building and that background is now beige and very, very clean.

If I couldn’t have Mario’s toilet, by God, I’d have something else that his ass had sat on: a 13 foot team bench. Come on over and have a seat if you’re ever getting nostalgic.

**Updated June, 2011: Sadly, Cotton Candy Guy, Kenny Geidel, 64, passed away in May, 2011.