Saturday, January 16, 2016

How Ally Got Her Groove Back (A Review of Style on the Fly with Kat McNeal)

I think I may have posted here recently that I don't have any New Year's Resolutions except to stop saying whatever within ear shot of my toddler.

That's a total lie.

I have tons.

I would like to:
drink more water than wine
stop having a cup of sugar with a little bit of coffee splashed on top
truly get 10,000 steps on my FitBit instead of just walking circles around the dining room table
floss (more than just the week before my dentist appointment...which, I'm pretty sure, is fooling no one)
stop sneak-eating chocolate in our walk-in pantry
spend less time in the Target $1 aisle
spend more time outside
remember that, before Blue, I had style and it had very little to do with black yoga pants, hoodie sweatshirts and baseball caps

It's a lengthy list that I'm not rushing into because there's still 349 days left in the year. And if I master them all in the first month, what will I do for the next 11? However, I've gotten a lot of help with that last one recently and it's rocking my world in some big ways.

My sister once lamented to me that giving birth to 2 kids had ruined her sense of style. I found this completely unbelievable because she had always been one of the most fashionable women I knew. She stayed on top of the trends and knew how to apply them to her own wardrobe. Her make-up was flawless, her accessories perfectly chosen and her overall appearance was completely polished. Even when she was simply junking on a Saturday morning, she still looked as though she had just stepped off the cover of Glamour.
But having kids changes us all. I used to tease her mercilessly about the "Quaker" denim skirts (in her defense, she is a high school teacher but I think she may have worn them out a time or two, as well), the "Mom" jeans, the yoga pants and all the cardigans. Although she held on to several pairs of strappy stilettos and some slinky tops, her closet was mostly geared toward work and relaxation. But that's what you do when you have kids. You work and then you relax, preferably in something without buttons or zippers. (For the record, my sister never lost her sense of style. She can make a track suit from 1984 look glamorous.)

I had been noticing the same trend in my own closet about 6 months ago. As some of the baby weight finally started to come off and I began to feel more comfortable in pants and skirts again, I realized that my jeans to yoga pants ratio was completely off. Especially considering how much yoga I was doing (read: none). But I was OK with petering around the house in Target stretchy pants or leggings and a sweatshirt. The real panic began when I was going out...for dinner with Neal or to a movie with girlfriends or packing for vacation. One cannot live in yoga pants alone. And I am a jewelry designer. Shouldn't I wear something other than my wedding rings and a pair of CZ earrings from Claire's? I had lost all of the joy I once felt from piecing together my look for the day. It suddenly seemed like a waste of time to put on make-up when I was only going to leave the house to run to the commissary. And would anyone really notice if my boots matched my hoodie? I had one purse which was being used well past its natural life.
Before kid...
After kid. I can't believe I haven't deleted this yet. 
More weight came off and while I was still a far reach from my pre-pregnancy size, I could no longer get away with cinching post-pregnancy pants and referring to my billowing sweaters as ponchos. The Empress needed new clothes. But where to begin? Goodwill, of course. It was the cheapest way to completely re-stock...but not necessarily the most effective, as I soon discovered. Although everything fit, it didn't all fit well . My body was, irreversibly it seemed, changed by pregnancy. Even after losing 20 pounds, everything remained a little fuller. My hips were somewhat wider and I had developed some muscle from hauling around a child for 3 years. My waist had become less defined and my butt had flattened. My body had transitioned from hour-glass to apple-shaped and I had no idea how to dress it. The colors I chose were flattering if I stuck to blues and pinks but sometimes I bought a shirt because the cut favored this new body. And I ended up with a lot of black. Thinking I had nailed this style thing once again, I would pull from my new wardrobe, look in the mirror and think At best, I look tired. At worst, I look sick.  I had a closet full of nothing to wear. I threw my hands in the air and waved the black yoga pants flag of mercy.

One warm, breezy Sunday afternoon this past September, my neighbor came bouncing up the walk with a folder and a smile. She had just been to a style consultation with our neighbor down the street, Kat, owner of Style on the Fly. I perused the contents of her folder and the color swatches Kat had given her. That's nice, I thought. But it's not for me. I know how to dress myself, I'm just too lazy to do it. Over the next several weeks, I saw my neighbor put into action the color and style tips Kat had given her. Her face seemed brighter and she seemed more put together, less thrown together. (To be fair, I had always been a little jealous of my neighbor's wardrobe and her waist to butt ratio, however she now played to these assets and I was shiny green with envy.) Clearly I needed an appointment with Kat.
Style on the Fly is the business Kat created based on her training with Christian beauty speaker and founder of Fashion Meets Faith, Shari Braendel and her book Help me Jesus! I Have Nothing to Wear. Ms. Braendel's mission is to help women embrace their God-given beauty. And yes, we all have God-given beauty. The way God created us is absolutely perfect, even though we dabble in hair color and try out colored contact lenses. The consultation is based almost exclusively on eye, skin and hair color so it's best to be as close to natural as possible. I've only had one set of highlights since I shaved my head 2 years ago so my color is mostly me, gray and all. And although my summer tan had begun to fade to my winter white, Kat promised that wouldn't affect my colors at all.
Teaching the importance of color.
The first step was to determine my 36-color palette. To do this, Kat placed me in a chair in front of a window so I was bathed in natural light. She then wrapped several different colors of pashminas around my shoulders until she found the one that made me look the most radiant. You are a light she told me and handed me a packet with 6 layers of swatches (6 colors per swatch with everything from the best shades of blues, reds and purples for me to the size of pattern that best suits me to the color of jewelry that is most complimentary to my skin tone) and 2 cards, one explaining how the swatches should be used and one offering even more style tips for my palette (steer clear of autumn colors, think of watermelon red if you must wear red, if you insist on wearing black keep it away from your face). And at the bottom, most importantly: Remember that you are beautiful...exactly as you are! Your light coloring is a gift from God and you light up a room when you walk into it. 

Oh my goodness how I needed to hear that. Right then and right there. And probably for every day since my belly (and everything else) grew round and ready. I hadn't felt beautiful in 4 years. Pictures from 2012-2015 reflect my increasing apprehension to be digitally immortalized. Thousands of pictures of Blue and Neal, but only random selfies of me and only from the collarbone up. For me, not feeling beautiful affected every other aspect of my life. My confidence plummeted and my insecurity often crept up in the wickedest ways. I called everything into question, from the fidelity of our marriage to the strength of my mother's intuition. All because I felt like a mascaraed potato sack. I did not feel beautiful.

For the next 90 minutes we discussed where hemlines should fall to best flatter my body type and how to accessorize an outfit. Before Blue, I adhered to my Granny's flawless fashion principle: Put on all of the jewelry you want to wear that day and then take one piece off. After Blue, I adhered to the Exhausted Mommy's Guide to Getting Yourself Dressed Enough to Be Seen in Public: You should probably wear a watch so you know what time to feed and nap your baby and your wedding bands because your husband spent a lot of money on them and then maybe a long necklace to show people you still remember what style is. But definitely no dangly earrings of any kind. Ever. Yes, I was still designing amazing pieces for clients and my own wardrobe still boasted quite a few show-stoppers, but they rarely saw the light of day. And who has time for all of that anyway? It will just be more stuff to take off when it's time to nap or bathe or wash dishes. And the only one who will see it is still pooping his pants. Too much work, not enough return.

One of the best pieces of advice from my style session with Kat is a handy guide to accessorizing outfits. It assigns each item a point value and gives you an idea of where your totals should be and how to get them higher (with the idea that a higher number = a more polished look). I use it everyday, even if I only plan to run out and get the mail. I try to get 8-10 points on days where we are at home and 14-16 if we are going out. It seems like such an inconsequential piece but makes a huge difference in how put together I feel when I walk out the door.
Discussing hemlines.
We finished up with some make-up tips (which paid off the first time my BFF said, after seeing a selfie on Facebook, I don't know what you're doing with your make-up these days but you look fabulous!) and any questions that came up during the session. It's a lot of information to take in but all immediately applicable with instant results. I rushed home and cleaned out my closet that afternoon.

New body, new attitude. Not so scared to be in pictures anymore! Also, apparently I can wear gray but not black. Who knew??

Kat just launched her new website, which includes a list of her services (from color analysis all the way to personal shopping), an About Me section and the Style on the Fly blog. If you're local to Leavenworth, she hosts periodic group style classes with the next one occurring Sunday, January 24 from 3:00-4:30. You can email or call Kat to book. If you are reading all of this and thinking I need that in my life! But I live a bajillion miles away, she can complete a color analysis using photos taken in natural light. You can contact her here to get started. Kat is also available for speaking events and has often presented at Mothers of Preschoolers (MOPs) groups and mother-daughter teas (this is particularly effective for encouraging the daughter to dress more appropriately and showing the mother how to help). Her Facebook page is up and running and while she's getting her Pinterest boards in order, you can check out Ms. Braendel's Pinterest page, with many style tips and helpful hints, here

As I wrap up this review, you may be saying to yourself, That's funny...this all sounds vaguely familiar. Like didn't we do this in the late 80's and it was called something else? And yes, you are most likely thinking of Color Me Beautiful. Our mothers spent an afternoon at someone's house and came back flushed with knowledge and declarations that they are a spring! Or a winter! And then a flurry of shopping. Color Me Beautiful still exists, although they are no longer training new representatives. The problem with that program is that within the 4 seasons, there are 4 more sub-categories which makes your palette very specific. A slight tan or a set of highlights would throw your whole wardrobe off. Many women ended up with overflowing closets just to accommodate the slight changes in skin and hair color that occur over the course of a year. And ain't nobody got room (or money) for that. The idea behind Fashion Meets Faith is that less is more and you can go up or down a few shades in skin and/or hair color and your palette still works. Also, your closet becomes more like a capsule wardrobe because everything coordinates, making getting dressed in the morning infinitely easier. I like easy. Because toddlers are not easy. 

I may not be drinking more water than wine (see above statement: toddlers are not easy) and I may still be eating some chocolate in the closet, but I also feel radiant, confident and beautiful, both in and out of the house!

Monday, January 4, 2016

A Sister's New Year's Wish


I meant to write this on Friday, the first day of 2016. But instead, I was grazing on Chex mix and chasing away champagne headaches with a little hair of the dog. I blame my neighbors - one brought the gallon baggie of munchies and the other entertained a total of 15 kids while we washed queso down with wine and critiqued Alabama's defense between runs upstairs to check on the kids. At least I stuck to the clear liquids or it could have all been much worse for me on the first day of the new year. But even through my fog of detox, I could see how lucky we were to land where we did in 2015. We had asked for Newport, Rhode Island, the Navy's approach to this school. We had prayed for Newport, Rhode Island. I found no less than 15 Chip-and-Joanna-approved houses on Trulia...in Newport, Rhode Island. Then one day Neal came home and said "It's Kansas for us." My heart sank. House hunting turned up nothing interesting. I watched The Wizard of Oz after Blue went to bed and leaked self-pity all over my chocolate Cheerios.

I didn't want to live in Kansas. Not for 12 months. Not even for 12 minutes.

Obviously, I was wrong about Kansas. And Missouri, as well, for that matter, since we live less than a mile from the state line. And so I have come to trust the process. Whether it's God's plan for us or the Army's, we are not completely out of control, but we are not wholly in it, either. We must make our wishes known and then accept and bloom in the coming year. And so this note, my 400th post on this blog, is addressed to my fellow Milspouses across the world on the third day of the new year...because my fellow Milspouses made the last night of the last year so knee-walking fabulous that it took 2 days to recover.

Dear MilSisters,
Let me be the first or the twentieth or the eighty-fifth to say Happy New Year! I don't know how 2015 fared for all of you but I hope it was mostly agreeable even if it was rarely boring. Most of all, I hope you awoke on January 1 of 2016 with a song in your heart and a sense of boundless energy for what will be asked of you in the coming year. And if that didn't happen, I hope that at least the neighbor children showed up at your door after you showered and put on a bra to deliver your son's favorite fleece jacket left behind from the night before. I think that's the most any of us can hope for...that the doorbell rings after you've put on a bra.

I know the coming year holds even more changes for our family, most of which have yet to be revealed. We speculate and hope but at the end of the day, we simply don't know until we know. And I know it's the same for yours. Our stages of military life vary so drastically that it seems impossible to feel a sense of camaraderie, to swap similar stories so effortlessly. And yet, we have bonded over something as simple as how much dirt a pair of combat boots can track through a house. (Seriously, I think they looked at tank tread and thought How can we put that on the bottom of a boot?)  But many of us know the feeling of finding a favorite pair of shoes buried under a stack of books in a box. Or the look on your spouse's face when they find us flat on our backs, flapping limbs and making packing paper angels under the dining room chandelier. We are raising kids, gasping at how quickly our kids have grown, moving for the first time or the last, finding comfort in the routine or feeling annoyed that it's interrupted too quickly. We all know what it is to have a closet dedicated to pro-gear and a duty to a mission greater than ourselves. The new year may be full of changes for you, too, or more of the same, at least for another 12 months.

If you are due to move this year, I wish you a flawless PCS. May your driver be on time and not a day earlier or later. May his crew clear the FBI background checks and arrive fresh and ready to work, even when the temperature threatens to hit triple digits and the humidity is already there. May Transportation honor your previously agreed upon delivery date and never once threaten to put all of your stuff into storage for some undetermined amount of time, not to exceed the next time you're due to move. May they not throw your handcrafted burlap tree skirt in the bottom of a box marked "Garage Liquids". May your moving truck be solid, routinely serviced and able to handle the task at hand. And dear God, may they send a truck big enough the first time around. May your new home feel comfy and cozy, even as the unpacking stretches into weeks and then months. May you find the energy to complete your gallery wall, even if you can use number of months instead of number of years to define your time there. May you only need post-it notes to remind you of what's in every drawer and cabinet for a maximum of a week. Unless, of course, you are learning a new language and your cups are now tassens. May you locate the grocery, pediatrician, public library, school, dentist, gym, church, auto repair and no less than 3 coffee shops with relative ease. May they all be conveniently located to your home, just as you had planned. May you find at least one friend who is not crazy, is not trying to defraud the government, understands that their kid is not perfect, will sweat with you, laugh with you, and offer to babysit when all you want is to see Star Wars before it comes to Netflix, will encourage you to take Mommy Time and discourage you from letting the military control 100% of your life 100% of the time. May you never want to leave and when it comes time, may you find the strength to do all of this all over again.

If you are staying put in 2016 but looking at a move down the road, may you find a way to continue to live in the moment, experiencing some things for the second year but seeing each one from a new perspective or diving a little deeper than the first time around. May you finally have your home arranged and decorated exactly as you want it and have enough time to enjoy it in this "finished" state. May you say hello more than you say goodbye. May you see the virtue in helping new families find their way around, asking nothing in return except a tiny chunk of good Karma. May you have the foresight to begin buying gallon baggies in bulk when they go on sale now. May you relax in this state of calm, simply relishing in the routine of day-to-day life as many experience it regularly but is rare for military families. May your best friend PCS the day after you.

If you are staring at a deployment this year, please know that we are a grateful nation. Every single one of us. Even if we don't shake your hand or hug your neck or even say the words. May you always feel lifted to a pedestal that is impossible to tumble from. May you have casseroles delivered to your door, offers to watch your children whenever it's convenient for you, a good cry when you need it and a good laugh when you don't. May you not feel compelled to watch any show produced by Shonda Rhimes until the end of the deployment or any Homecoming videos, especially between Thanksgiving and New Year's. May you always have a project and a bottle of wine to get you through the day. May your days be short and those nights in an empty bed even shorter. And may your children be obedient, patient, understanding and sweet in an unexplainable, almost other-worldly kind of way. Most of have been there, many of us more than once, some of us quite recently. It's Hell but there is always one of us to walk through it with you. Separation makes the heart grow fonder is absolute BS that prints beautifully on a Hallmark card. Separation makes you bitter and resentful and lose sight of why we are doing this in the first place. But many babies are born 9 months after Homecoming so it can't be all bad.

If you are leaving or retiring from the Milspouse lifestyle, let me hopefully be the first to say Thank You for your tireless service and sacrifice during a time when it was popular to be a Milspouse but not at all easy. If you have been serving for any length of time, you've probably endured at least one deployment and several moves. You may have moved overseas or across the country or simply lost track of how long it's been since you've been home. You've probably heard more than your fair share of references to Army Wives or The Unit and you still feel utterly misunderstood by Hollywood and your extended family. You might be packing trinkets that have traveled thousands of miles or discarding furniture that is being held together by extra screws, several layers of duct tape and a prayer to survive one more move. You are leaving a life that has grown comfortable even when uncertainty was the only certainty. And, without a doubt, you will be missed. May your new life be as blissful as you imagined it would be. May you find a well of patience when asked, for the 20th time, where all you have lived. May you resist the urge to move again after the first 24 months, and for every 12 months thereafter. May you stop storing everything in baskets and plastic bins. May your children's first questions of a new friend be something other than, "What's your name and when are you moving?" May you feel the freedom to register to vote, buy a house, volunteer for future events, join boards and councils, feel grief when someone leaves your community. May you find home.

This year, more than ever, I have felt the blessings that military life sometimes bestows upon us. I have made friends, had experiences and discussed ideas that would have never been possible without this year. I've watched our son grow, in all ways, stronger because of the people surrounding us. This life demands much of us but it gives much to us, as well. 2015 was a year of sadness and joy, goodbyes and hellos, love and loss, burnt dinners and the best butternut squash lasagna recipe ever. It was a rollercoaster ride with the very best of my MilSisters riding in the car beside me. Sometimes it feels like a sorority of sacrifice but I hope we always feel more like a sisterhood of service.

With love, admiration and the very best of wishes,
Ally

Wednesday, December 30, 2015

Promises, Promises


New Year's Eve Eve. I never quite know what to do with this day as it still holds a shred of the promise of the current year but also begins whispering the commitments I've made for the coming year. I quit making resolutions several years before Blue but had I not stopped then, I would surely have done so by now. Kids have a way of making you want to be a better person but by way of challenging you every second of every minute of every day.

For example, Blue started saying "whatever" to us about 2 months ago. So, imagine a 3 year old, dressed in a John Deere henley and dinosaur pajama bottoms, rolling his eyes with great exaggeration and muttering "whatever" when asked to do anything besides watch Daniel Tiger or eat chocolate chip cookies. Kind of gets your hackles up, am I right? Or it should anyway...because if he's trying this on for size at 3, imagine what will roll off that tongue without a second thought at 13. So, Dear Old Dad and I brought it all to a screeching halt immediately. I quizzed him endlessly about where he had learned such a thing. I named all of his friends (although even in doing so I couldn't imagine any of them were capable of that kind of disrespect). He simply shook his head no with each one. Eventually we settled on a punishment: time-out for every time he said it. Three years old, three minutes. Three minutes alone in a chair in the back of the house, where we seldom turn on the space heaters because time-out shouldn't be tropical temperatures and a room full of toys. Nevertheless, he continued to push us and almost always as we were walking out the door. Putting on shoes and coats, on our way to the gym/church/a meeting/a party/pretty much anywhere with a defined start time. He would cast his eyes in my direction, bow his head slightly and say it. Whatever, Mommy. Dammit. Now we are going to be 3 minutes late. But that's parenting. Consistency or die. I started building in 3 extra minutes after the 3rd time of this little game. Now we are 3 minutes early everywhere. But as they say, early is on time and on time is late. So...silver linings and all that.

About a week after Blue's attitude adjustment, I was working feverishly to get him buckled in his car seat before all of my limbs froze and dropped right off at the joint. He wasn't doing much to help the process along, something he's been doing since, literally, day 2. In frozen frustration I pleaded, "I need you to help me! Put your arm through!" And he answered with, "But I don't know how." And incredulous at this sudden lack of ability, I snorted, "Whatever!"

Oh. My. Stars.

It was me.

I just stood there for a second and looked at him, already knowing that I had rolled my eyes and dropped the W word. It sounded so much worse coming out of his tiny toddler mouth. It sounded dirty and rude, like he was off to punch a grandma in the face right after he stole a bag of Doritos from the 7-11 and mooned the manager on the way out.

So now, Whatever is banned from our house.

May I be the first to tell you that a 30-year habit is hard to break. And Neal's got 10 years on me. He's been busted more times than I can count. Although my slip-ups are legitimate, eye-rolling, huffing events. Neal is generally saying something like, "Oh you're headed to the commissary? Will you grab some breakfast stuff...yogurt, bananas...whatever." Suddenly, from the frozen tundra of our back room we hear, "DADDY!! You said whatever! You need to say sorry!"

There was a time when I thought this child would never talk. As it turns out, my fears were completely unfounded.

My only resolution for 2016 is to remove whatevereyerollhuff (and any other Ally-ism that may sound like a hooligan headed out to prowl the mall when it comes out of my toddler's mouth) from my lexicon. At least my mom will thank me. Thirty years too late.

Sorry, Mom

Monday, November 23, 2015

All the Cool Kids Will Be There: CCCUCC's 2015 Kristkindl Markt

Although the turkey is still frozen and we've only watched Polar Express once so far, Kansas City is already beginning to glow with the spirit of the season. And really, who can blame them? There are simply too many holiday bucket list items to squeeze into 4 short weeks. From the Christmas Tree Crawl (like a pub crawl but with illuminated evergreens all over the city...I totally just made that up) to ice skating at Crown Center to the inevitable Breakfast with Santa, the list seems to multiply every year. And then there are the annual holiday traditions that seem to fill the rest of December. Growing up in Kentucky meant a mere 8 hour drive into downtown Chicago. Christmas just didn't seem complete without a trip north to shop, see the lights and windows and eat at California Pizza Kitchen (before they sold their soul to chain grocery stores). But nothing enchanted us more than the German festival known as Christkindlmarket. An open-air shopping experience featuring authentic German food, music and crafts, Christkindlmarket was unlike any holiday festival back home. In fact, it was unlike anything in Macon, Richmond or Ft. Knox. So, we have been in a bit of a Christkindlmarket drought.

Just typing that sentence makes me sad.

However, in less than 2 weeks, it's going to rain down accordian music and brats and gluhwein on this happy face of mine. Goodbye, drought...hello, Bier Garten!
Country Club Congregational United Church of Christ (CCCUCC), located in the Brookside neighborhood of KCMO, will host its 23rd Annual Kristkindl Markt on Friday, December 4 (5-9 PM) and Saturday, December 5 (10 AM - 7 PM). The idea for this 2-day, German Christmas festival in the heart of KC was conceived after Reverend Rodger Kube, a former pastor of the church, attended an authentic Christkindlmarket during his Advent season travels in Germany. Hosting a similar festival on the church's lawn seemed like a spirited way to honor the United Church of Christ's German roots.

The festivities were held outdoors for the first 5 years but in 2009, the unpredictable Kansas City weather finally moved the event inside the church. Although I, too, have German roots, I would prefer to be in a climate-controlled building drinking my Dunkel. However, large quantities of gluwein will keep you warm well into March, I've been told. If you are die-hard Christkindl, though, and want the experience of strolling through a German village on a blustery December night, you may be pleasantly surprised by how the church's interior is transformed into a landscape of Low German houses. Whipping, bitter cold wind not included.

CCCUCC's Kristkindl Markt (apparently, Kristkindl and Christkindl are both correct. Those wacky Germans. And they say English is hard...) features all of the staples of an excellent German holiday market:

* A full menu of German food, including roasted pork loin, brats, hot German potato salad, red cabbage and sauerkraut, traditional Spaetzle, Bavarian pretzels and apple streudel.

*Live entertainment on both days and a marionette show at 1:30 on Saturday. The Happy Wanderers, a local German band with a growing fan base, will perform 4:30-7 PM on Saturday.

*Local artists selling blown glass, art, jewelry, wood crafts, Kansas City-themed apparel, fair trade items and much more!

*A Bier Garten featuring hot, spiced wine known as gluwein and a German-style Dunkel from local beer company KC Bier (which must be amazing considering their slogan is "We put the i back in bier." Nothing is more German then bier.).

*The Christkind Angel, a new addition this year and the first in a series. It was designed by artist Angie Pickman in the scherenschnitte (paper-cutting) style. Ms. Pickman's art was recently featured in Martha Stewart Living and she is frequently commissioned to create designs for festivals and special occasions. Christkind Angel plastic and laser-cut wood ornaments and t-shirts will be available for purchase, as well as a variety of cut-paper trees with LED tea lights.

But Kristkindl Markt offers even more!
*"Cookies by the pound" (But to hear the members tell it, it's really dessert by the pound. Cookies, bars, brownies, puppy chow, quick breads...if it all started with a stick of butter, it will probably be there.)

*Raffle baskets for every interest. Last year there was a Duck Dynasty entry. It included an extension cord, a roll of duct tape, biscuit mix, a honey bear, tea bags, 2 "fine dining beverage glasses - with lids" and 2 Duck Dynasty Christmas albums. I'm sure if I watched that show I would understand a little more, but you had me at fine dining beverage glass with lid.

* 2 words: Wine Pull. The idea behind this activity is brilliant. Church members have donated bottles of wine that are at least $10 each. The bottles are then wrapped in brown paper bags and for $10, you choose a bottle to take home. More often than not, you end up ahead. Way ahead. Don't like wine? I bet your boss does. Fortunately for me, my boss is me and I love wine.

*The Christmas Decor Flea Market, which features gently-used Christmas decorations at below yard sale prices. That set of Christmas pickle placemats will bring someone immense joy this year. I personally plan on sending my 3-year old in with $5 and an eye for treasure so he can pick out his Daddy's Christmas gift all by himself. (Which is how we will end up with a mooning Santa ash tray that we can never get rid of because...nostalgia.)

*Father Christmas (Weihnachtsmann) will be greeting visitors and wishing everyone a Merry Christmas.

*Crafts by the Congregation will include Christmas-themed wreaths and centerpieces and jewelry by Daisy & Elm Jewelry and Rosaries. Oh wait, that's me. Yep, the pile grows tall with freshwater pearl bracelets, hot mess necklaces and wine cork rings!

*And last, but certainly not least, is the Black Forest where children of all ages can descend the stairs to decorate pre-assembled gingerbread houses. A couple of weeks ago, local high school students received volunteer credit for building over 700 gingerbread houses for this event. They now sit, ready to be adorned with M&Ms, Red Hots, pretzels, mini marshmallows and individual tubes of icing that were filled today. This activity is free but donations benefit Operation Breakthrough, the largest single site early education child care and social services facility in Missouri. Their website details the many ways they help children (age 6 weeks-13 years) who are living in poverty to develop to their fullest potential.

My only anguish is that I must wait 2 weeks for all of this fun.

If you are interested in attending, I have a few tips.
1. From Ft. Leavenworth, it takes me about an hour to get to church every Sunday. But CCCUCC is centrally located in Kansas City. It is, literally, minutes from Country Club Plaza, Costco and Union Station so we often combine stops into one trip.

2. Parking is mostly on the street and it can be a bit nuts. There is overflow parking for St. Andrews Episcopal Church less than a block away on Brookside. It's a large lot that our congregation uses every Sunday and it's just at the end of the block, down the hill.

3. With the exception of the vendors (who mostly use Square), cash and check are the most efficient methods of payment. Although credit cards are accepted for food and cookies by the pound, the machines are slow and that can make the lines long. I will list the prices for everything at the bottom of this post so you have an idea of how much to bring.

4. When you enter the church (from the south side), a greeter will be there to welcome you and provide a map to help orient you to the market. But in general, you can expect vendors to be scattered throughout the first floor (with some placed in the small chapel, which is the first door on the left as you enter the church and some in the parlor, which is the next door on the left). Cookies by the pound, raffle baskets, the wine pull and Crafts by the Congregation can be found in the nursery. Dining and live entertainment will be held in the social/fellowship hall. And the gingerbread house decorating occurs in the basement.

5. Drinks from the Bier Garten can be purchased directly from the bartender with cash or with tickets purchased from the food cashier (with cash or credit card). For example, you are only here for the gluwein. Bring cash and buy it directly from the bartender. If you are buying food and drinks together and you want to put it all on the card, then go through the food line and receive tickets for the alcohol which you would then give to the bartender. I swear, no gluwein was consumed in the constant re-writing of this paragraph in an attempt to make it clearer.

6. The gingerbread houses require some dry time. If it were me (and it will be on Friday night as I'll be working the event all day Saturday), I would grab a bier from the bartender, take drink and toddler down to decorate a gingerbread house, do some shopping, eat dinner and then pick up the gingerbread house on the way out.

7. Apparently, the lines can get long. I tell you this because I'm an impatient person who groans at the sight of crowds and lines. Especially if they are between me and food or beer or shopping. But in the end, the experience is always worth it and sometimes the people I meet along the way make it all the more enjoyable. I will pack an extra cup of patience and some Christmas spirit to share. But I will also probably have applesauce and fruit snacks. 

8. Take a minute to enjoy the splendid stained glass windows in the sanctuary. Although the entire building is almost Quaker-like in its simple beauty, the windows bring me many moments of quiet reflection every Sunday morning.

Prices: 
Admission: FREE!
Gingerbread House: FREE!
Christkind Angel T-shirt: $12
Christkind Angel plastic ornament: $8 or 2 for $15
Christkind Angel laser-cut wood ornament: $15
Set of 3 cut-paper trees with 3 LED tea lights: $15
Raffle tickets: $1.00/each

Food/Drinks:
MEALS
Roasted Pork Loin Meal (pork loin, choice of 2 sides, roll): $10
Grilled Bratwurst Meal (brat, choice of 2 sides, roll): $10
Pork Loin & roll or Brat & roll: $7
Kids' Meal (hotdog, chips and juice box): $4

SIDES/EXTRAS
Hot German Potato Salad: $3
Sauerkraut or Red Cabbage: $3
Traditional German Spaetzle: $3
Hot Bavarian Pretzel: $3

DESSERT
Hot German Apple Strudel: $3/slice
Whole German Apple Strudel: $15

DRINKS
German-style Dunkel (KC Bier Co): $4
Gluhwein (hot spiced wine): $4
Bottled Water: $1.00
Soft Drinks: $1.00
Coffee: $1.00 

As I mentioned, Blue, Neal and I will be attending on Friday night so I'll post a quick update with photos and any additional helpful hints I picked up along the way. Just looking at this menu is making me drool. Does anyone know where I can get red cabbage at 2:06 AM?

I hope to see you there! If you need Facebook to tell your phone to remind you (it's the only way I am on time to anything), there are 2 upcoming events listed on the left side of the Facebook event page, one for Friday and one for Saturday. Click "going" on the day you want to attend and you're all set!

*Many thanks to Karen Plummer for spending her Tuesday night answering all of my Kristkindl Markt questions!

 

Friday, November 6, 2015

Treated Like Royal-ty



Unless you have been living under a rock (or running for political office), then you know the Kansas City Royals baseball team brought home the World Series trophy on Sunday. After a week of long nights and extra innings for most of them, they shut down the NY Mets, 4-1. 

And now I have a confession.

We only saw about 30 minutes of the entire World Series...and that was just because the University of Kentucky vs University of Tennessee game had become too painful watch. Baseball is simply not my thing...and really hasn't been since the MLB players' strike in 1994. It was all quite complicated but it essentially boiled down to money (which it almost always does) and I didn't think dollar signs should be strong enough to cancel America's past time. So, yes...for 20 years I've been a bit bitter about baseball.

Also, I'm a die-hard, true blue University of Kentucky basketball fan and that has proven to be quite fulfilling, from a sports standpoint. From the night on March 30, 1998, when I stumbled down to the corner of Euclid and Woodland to join the crowd after another NCAA Championship win...
Yes, I'm in this photo. I found me once...across the street beside the blue awning. 
to the time my cousin called me in Georgia to say, "Oh my goodness, they are going to win this  SEC semi-final game! We HAVE to get tickets to the Finals in Atlanta." And then 20 minutes later, I had 3 tickets to the game (thank you, Stub Hub)...
to the time Nana Anna had pity on me and my fractured radius and sent me to the UK vs Auburn game in her place...
...I bleed blue, through and through. Also, I gave thousands of dollars to that school and about 6 years of my life (to say nothing of the hundreds of dollars in apparel I now own). And the crazy part? I'm not alone. University of Kentucky basketball fans are rowdy, faithful and proud (bordering on arrogant). We drive hundreds of miles for games and fill Rupp Arena to capacity, an intimidating sea of blue for any opponent. Well, maybe it's best explained by this t-shirt I wore to announce Blue's impending arrival on the night UK won its most recent title in 2012:
So, yes...it's like that. And I used to think we were alone in our crazy...an entirely separate dimension of fanaticism.

However, as it turns out, Royals fans may have us beat.

I didn't hear the fireworks downtown, bursting with the news of a Royals victory. And I forgot to pick up a paper on Monday morning; the full-color, printed details of a long-awaited and hard-fought World Series title. I didn't even own a single thing to wear when, at last minute and after learning that every local school would be closed for the day, we decided to join the confetti parade downtown. At 5:30 on Monday night, I found myself huddled around folding tables strategically placed through Dick's Sporting Goods, rummaging through piles of mixed sizes and 20 different t-shirt designs. I found one that looked like it would fit and featured the distinctive Royals crown with a proclamation of a World Series win splashed across the front. After adding a subtle baseball cap to match, I was on my way. But I was the only person in the store not already wearing some kind of Royals apparel. Sorry...I'm not from 'round here. I own loads of royal blue that represents a "K" team, but wrong blue, wrong K.

At 6:30 Tuesday morning, I completed my bootcamp workout in hopes that my new shirt wouldn't be too snug. At 9:30 that morning, we were barreling south on I-29, riding the Kansas state line and trying to avoid the absolute gridlock that had clenched around the city. As we parked near the Kansas City, Kansas police department and started walking toward the shuttle stop, we were met with agitated Royals fans walking briskly back to their cars.

That is not a good sign.

We went on because maybe they forgot to leave their Zombie Apocalypse Kit in the car. Or they wanted to pee in the privacy of a gas station. Who knows. But rounding the corner of the police department lawn, we saw a crisscross of lines with no visible end. The longer we walked, the more the line seemed to grow...like trying to find the end of 13 strands of Christmas lights hastily tossed in a bin the year before. City buses arrived one at a time, slowly filling, slowly departing, slowly arriving for the next load. The three moms with the 7 kids, all under the age of 10, quickly decided the shuttle would get us to Grand Boulevard sometime around 11:30..3 days later. Time for plan B.

My biggest fear, as the only parent of a toddler in a party of 700,000, is getting trampled. I'm not sure why I have this fear. I didn't have it before Blue was born. I attended swarming, chaotic events in stadiums, in fields, in the middle of the street. Not once did my heart race with the idea that this calm but cheerful crowd could turn into a deadly mob within seconds of a threat. Maybe it's 9/11. Maybe it's the Boston Marathon Bombing. Maybe it's becoming a mom. I just hate crowds now and it is physically taxing to be in one with a 3 year old in tow, especially by myself. We headed south anyway.

What happened next is something straight out of The Road. As we exited off of I-29, we noticed cars parked everywhere. People were seemingly just pulling off the interstate and parking...in medians, in ditches. One Nissan SUV was almost vertical on an exit ramp embankment.

Well, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em.

We made a plan to find a patch of grass somewhere between here and there, just wide enough for one mini-van and one SUV. We hopped a drainage ditch, leaving a mud track from squalling tires over the curb of a sidewalk, and found a parking space in a lot that was technically closed. Cars behind us followed and the lot began to fill. They can't tow everybody. At least we didn't abandon it in the emergency lane of I-29. That's something, right?

Snacks? Check.
Water? Check.
Diapers? Check. Wipes? Check.
Jacket? Check.
Cell phones? Check.
Cash? Check.
7 kids? Check.
3 moms? Check.

OK, let's go. We were actually doing this. A collapsible wagon full of toddlers and 4 more double-timing to keep up, we headed to 9th and Oak, the turning point for the parade. 25 minutes to spare. We followed the crowd, thick with families and students and Royals fans, blue from holding their breath for 30 years, to the courthouse. Looking up, we saw people on the roofs, leaning over with sunglasses dangling. I calculated how far a pair of sunglasses would have to fall in order to kill upon impact. We played Spot the Sniper, 3 military moms who were only half-joking. And we let the kids eat lunch in the wagon while the spaces filled in around us and people pressed through, trying to get to the front row 10 minutes before it started. We promised shoulder seats to the smaller kids, but not until the first sign of a parade. I began to regret that 6:30 workout.

The oldest of our 7 began a round of "Let's go, Royals" (clapclap clapclapclap) and the chanting soon spread up the courthouse stairs and into the park beside us. I smiled at the idea of this child leading hundreds of adults in a Royals rallying cry. No one seemed to know that it started with him and if they did, they didn't care. Blue, atop my shoulders at that point for a better look, joined in the chant. Stubby toddler hands were cupped enthusiastically around his mouth, in perfect imitation of this older, wiser boy he has come to adore since becoming neighbors 3 months ago. He couldn't tell you what a Royal was if you drew it, colored it in and tacked it on his bedroom wall, but there he was, cheering them on with admirable energy. My UK Wildcat heart died a little inside because he refuses to recite our rallying cry, which happens every Saturday in the fall and at least twice a week during the winter and spring. (Cheering on UK means learning how to spell CATS, which would also look impressive among my homeschooling peers.)

As a news helicopter circled twice and then came to a hover overhead and the motorcycle police chirped their sirens to clear the path, the first band marched up the hill. I felt the cadence in my feet before I heard the melody of winds and horns. Blue, who was squatted on the pavement, picking up found bits of confetti to toss in the air, clamored back up my shoulders and enjoyed the best view. All around us, adults sacrificed their peek at the parade so that the kids could ride high and take it all in. We held up cell phones and blindly tapped, hoping that something important would pass through the frame. But the best indicator of the parade's progress was the roar of applause from those in front and above. Swells of screaming and clapping, always accompanied by (what we called in college) the "Woo-Hoo Girls". Wooooo-hoooooo!!!!! It sounds ridiculous. It sounds like Parliament on a good day. I wish Americans had a more dignified way to show their approval.

But this is not my team. I could correctly identify one player and that's because his nickname is "Moose" and he rode through the parade in a jeep with giant antlers. Also the crowd moaned "Mooooooooooooose" which, initially, always sounds like booing. When they started this at the Royals vs. Cubs game we attended in September, I thought they were booing the opposing team. Nope, just greeting one of their faves. I guess it's distinctive, even if it sounds overwhelmingly negative to an outsider.

As the last of the most popular players passed by, those near the front began to press their way back out. Much has been said on social media since Tuesday about how gracious and polite Royals fans are. Even at an event with 700,000 people, most squeezed through a crowd saying, "Excuse me, please" and "Thank you". And only a handful of arrests that day. No reports of rioting or looting or burning living room furniture. The Kansas City Star boasted, Royals fans don't burn it down, they shut it down. As someone who has witnessed delirious and drunk fans overturning and torching cars, uprooting and carrying off street signs and smashing storefronts, all in the name of Victory, it's refreshing to not have a repair bill when the hangover wears off.

We, too, decided it was time to head home. Our only objective, to live the hype for a single day and not lose a child in the process, was accomplished. Bucket list item 549: To attend the ticker-tape parade for a World Series Champion Team. Check. But still...these were not my boys in blue. They are certainly loved and respected, both for their successes on the field and the lives they lead off of it. This town loves their team and this team loves them right back. It's hard to not climb on the bandwagon as it rolls by, especially as Royals fans are extending a hand to help you aboard. This is their moment in the spotlight and the more, the merrier. We were joking with one very tall gentleman standing behind us, asking him what he could see since he towered over even the totem toddlers. I asked him who was passing by and he said, "I don't know. I'm not really a Royals fan. I'm from Cincinnati but came to play for Mizzou and I just wanted to see this." I bet he woke up on Wednesday morning feeling just a little more Royal. I certainly did.

The next morning, Blue scrambled down the front steps, Jake the Pirate pajamas askew and carrying a plastic sword from Neal's Halloween props box, to retrieve the paper. As we unfolded it, the front and back page became a panoramic view of Union Station and the World War I Museum, the epicenter of the rally following the parade. A sea of blue with pinpoint heads filled the page. Final attendance estimates topped 800,000. And inside, a few of the stories told about the families who braved the crowds to become part of history. But I like our story the best.

Once upon a time, a boy and his mom went to a parade in the big city. There were a lot of people and his mom looked nervous, but as the boy sat on top of the world and rested his hands in the feathery nest of his mom's hair, everything was perfect. Legs wrapped around neck, hands wrapped around ankles, holding tight to one another. We are a team.

Since my photos of the parade are mostly the backs of heads, I will share with you images captured by local media, as well as my pastor's son who was lucky enough to be in the front row of the parade route. It was a good day to be Royal.

Sluggerrr, the lovable lion (and Blue's most favorite mascot ever...we have to get him to a game where the Wildcat is wearing patch-work overalls. That's pretty lovable...)
 Photo Credit: Julian Peeples

Eric "Hoz" Hosmer...one of the favorites.
 
Moooooooooooooose.
 
Ned Yost, the Royals' manager, with the World Series trophy. 
 
The floating baseball. A highlight for Blue.
Photo Credit: Julian Peeples 
 
The view of Union Station from the top of the World War I tower observation deck. 
 
Photo Credit: Julian Peeples 
 
Salvador "Salvy" Perez...another crowd favorite.
 Photo Credit: Julian Peeples
 

 The Country Club Plaza Fountain in Kansas City, MO illuminated in blue for the win.
 These kinds of signs are everywhere. 
Union Station lit up in blue and bustling as news crews and event staff prepared for the parade and rally the next day. 
One of the city's most distinctive landmarks: the gigantic shuttlecocks on the lawn of the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art, glowing blue for one night. 

The Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art is #ForeverRoyal.

Thank you for a great memory, Kansas City Royals!
We now return to our regularly scheduled basketball season. 

 

 



 
 

 

 
 

 


 


Saturday, October 24, 2015

Feeling Deflated: A Review of the Great Midwest Balloon Fest

Remember that scene in A Christmas Story when Ralphie is anticipating his visit with Santa and he's imagining how perfectly the whole thing is going to go? Instead, Santa chastises him for asking for a toy that will destroy his vision and then an elf's boot in the ass sends him careening down the slide?

That's kind of how the Great Midwest Balloon Fest was for me.

Maybe I'm being harsh.

Nope. Actually, the entire event has that carnie/gypsy/I just got screwed by the circus feel to it. In the words of a great friend of mine...I think we've been had.

And that stinks because this had so much potential. I love a balloon festival. Back home, there is a balloon glow and race associated with the Kentucky Derby every year. When Blue was about 18 months old, we took him to a glow and while it was breathtakingly beautiful, there is a 0% chance that he remembers it. Will he remember it now that he's 3? Probably not. But he mentioned something to me today that happened about 6 months ago, so...there's hope.

The entire fiasco started with the Balloon Festival 5K/Fun Run, which was scheduled for Saturday night of the festival. We had purchased our Haunted Ft. Leavenworth tour tickets about 2 hours after they went on sale (literally) so, as much as I wanted to race under hot air balloons drifting overhead, we were already committed. Suddenly (and after an early bird deadline had passed), the date of the 5K/Fun Run changed to Sunday morning at dawn. No mention of why the date changed or even an announcement that it had, I just happened to notice one day on their Facebook page that it said the 25th instead of the 24th. When I asked if I could receive the early bird price since it wasn't my fault they had changed the date (had it been Sunday, I would have registered immediately, thus securing the $25/person original price), I was told that they were sorry but it's all electronic. There was nothing to be done. I could pay the $30/person registration fee before race day or pay $35/person at the door. More than a little grumpy about the whole exchange, I had to sit on it for a couple of weeks before ultimately agreeing to do it anyway (because, again, I'm a sucker for hot air balloons and the allure of being with them in one form or another is just too great). In another unfortunate turn of events, when I went to register for the race, I used the registration address on the festival's website for my GPS and that took me to an attorney's office 1 block over. And they would only take cash or check on-site. However, 5K registration came with wristbands to enter the festival for free. So, we cleared our calendars for Friday night.

Gates opened at 4 PM on Friday and after leaving the house, going back for the wristbands and then leaving again, we arrived around 4:15. Our GPS brought us straight down 4th Street and I think that probably is the most direct route. If you attended the Renaissance Fair last month, you know exactly where to go. There were plenty of volunteers on hand to direct us into a parking lot and then into a parking spot. Since we arrived right after the gates opened, we were about 6 rows back from the entrance but, as with any well-attended event, the later you arrive, the further you must walk. There is VIP parking available, but several people complained on the festival's Facebook page that it was not much closer and in the grass (as opposed to the pavement that was promised). I'm not sure that's worth the $10 price tag.

As you approach the main gate, there are several vendors set up outside the festival, including Dunkin Donuts, an artist drawing caricatures, a jewelry designer and a representative for Thirty-One. If you have not pre-purchased your tickets online, there is a ticket tent to the right just before the gate. (I use the word gate loosely. It's really just a couple of volunteers standing at the entrance checking wrist bands and tickets and handing out festival maps.) I've heard from others that the credit card fee is pretty steep...ranging from $7-9/ticket, depending on whether you buy them online or on site. However, apparently MWR has tickets with no fee.

As you enter, you are standing at the bottom of a slight hill and near the top, directly in front of you, is the stage where polka and jazz bands performed all evening (having the soul of an 87-year old woman, I really enjoyed the music but I can see how the younger crowd would fall asleep from boredom). At the top of that hill and to the left is the balloon field. The queue for tethered balloon rides is to the left of the entrance, between the Acura tent and the Beer Garden (again, "beer garden" should be used interchangeably for "tent" or "table with Sam's Club canopy over it"). Riding in a hot air balloon is on my bucket list, but those things sometimes hit power lines and fall out of the sky so I'm perfectly content with being tethered to the ground while I check that one off the list. We knew something wasn't right, though, when we saw a line of eager bucket listers but no balloons. And no festival staff to give us a hint of when we could expect a balloon and pilot to show up. So, we decided to cruise the rest of the event and come back a little later.

The path to the festival's carnival area is lined with booths promoting area businesses (think Ford, not Minsky's) and some food trucks (think carnival food at the state fair kind of food trucks, not Pigwich or some other gastro-pub on wheels). As you enter the carnival, the KC Kite Club should have some monster kites flying on the hill to the left. We are dorky kite people, too, so we took a record number of selfies with a massive whale whipping and dipping behind us.
Saving this one for the wedding slide show, Blue! 
The clouds finally started to give way but the wind was still strong enough to keep a whale of a kite high off the ground. It wasn't looking good for glowing balloons. 
 
As the novelty of city bus-sized kites finally started to wear off, we wandered into the carnival area. Blue, having just turned 3 a couple of months ago, has never showed much interest in carnival rides. As his helicoptering mother, I was totally fine with that. But after passing the Tilt-a-Whirl, swings and the Dragon Wagon, he began pointing wildly at a merry-go-round type ride with cars instead of horses. We were told the ride was 3 tickets and the tickets could be purchased at the kiosk a few feet away. Each ticket was $1.00 so for $3.00, Blue got to ride round and round for about 2 minutes. When it was over, we coaxed a reluctant (OK screaming) Blue off the ride and tried to explain to him that doing it "3 more times" was equivalent to at least a small set of Legos. 

It was also about this time that I realized I had forgotten to have the "please don't make eye contact with the carnies" talk with Blue. His eye was drawn immediately to a pool of yellow rubber ducks that stood about 36" tall...just waiting to be picked up by a toddler and paid for by a parent. The crowd was light so he drew a lot of attention from everyone who had something to win. "C'mon, handsome! Bring your mommy over. I've got something for you." I had forgotten how creepy carnival people are. And how tight-fisted we are. If we're going to play a game, Blue, let's at least make sure the odds aren't stacked against us. 

Suddenly, he spotted a train ride. Admittedly, even he was a bit old for it, but we caved because we didn't see many other rides intended for his age. The train crept around in a tight oval about 5 times and then it was done. $6 down, $34 left. 

With promises to "maybe come back later...we'll have to see" (with those words I've officially become my mother), we headed out of the carnival portion and back toward the festival. We stopped at the Ford tent to register for a free car because someone has to win, it may as well be us (and if not, at least I'm pretty sure Neal gave them a fake email address) and then by the Nevada French Bulldog Rescue tent. While some booths hung cheap-looking hot air balloon toys from their awnings, this booth featured fabric, hand-sewn hot air balloons of all different colors and sizes. The balloon is placed inside the fabric and then blown up and tied off and...VOILA! Your very own mini hot air balloon! I was in love. 
Even better, all proceeds benefit the Nevada French Bulldog Rescue, which was founded by the lady in the booth. She simply has a big heart for French Bulldogs and tries to find ways to fund her efforts. She showed me a picture of one of her most recently rescued babies. He was badly neglected and quite sick. $3000 later, he is the picture of health and ready for a loving home. Yes, of course, I will buy a balloon. If Neal wasn't here, I would probably buy 10. So, Mommy got to pick out the balloon and Blue got to pick out a "pilot" from a bin of random figurines. My son picked out Cinderella because she's a princess...just like Mommy. Word.
Unbelievably crappy cell phone picture that does not do any justice to the beauty and sturdiness of these balloons. 
A quick search of the rescue's website shows me tons of merch for sale but no hot air balloons so I have a feeling this is an event-specific item. If you go on Saturday, grab one then. I don't think they are available online. 

So, in all fairness, we did get to see one hot air balloon tonight. It was time for dinner. 

The main fare for the balloon fest is quite average carnival food. Hot dogs, chicken fingers, corndogs, brats, German sausages and fries. Blue and I split a plate of chicken fingers that had been battered and fried for optimal heart failure and a handful of fries that nearly sent me into immediate hypertension. (Sadly, I'm not exaggerating. Neal actually sucked the salt off of Blue's fries before he ate them because we just don't do that much salt in our house. Ever.) Neal and I split an Oktoberfest beer and Blue chugged on the water we brought with us. (They say no outside food or drinks...but no one is really checking. Don't roll in with a Yeti and you should be able to get away with some snacks and water in your hobo bag.)While we ate at the 6' tables placed near the food trucks (there was ample seating but it wasn't as crowded as it's likely to get on Saturday so I would suggest a blanket or some camping chairs if you want to guarantee yourself a seat), they held the pumpkin pie contest (with 2 contestants) next to us. With the sun setting and dinner done, we headed up to the balloon field, filled with fading hope. 

Before dinner, Blue and I had approached a cluster of important-looking men wearing important-looking badges. 
Excuse me, are y'all with the festival?
Ummm...sort of. We're with the FAA. 
 Hmm. OK. I'll take that. Will there be tethered rides tonight?
See that flag? When it's red or the American flag, these balloons aren't leaving the ground. 
That flag is definitely red.
Yep. 
 
Bummer. So, here's a little tip that no one from the festival bothers to mention anywhere. There is a flag (much like the ones you see at the beach) near the balloon field. If it's red or the American flag, there will be no rides, tethered or otherwise. Yellow is iffy. Green is go. Apparently, this holds true for the glow, as well. Another tip: if it's windy enough for the kites to fly, the balloons won't. Big red whale was still soaring high. 
Damn. 
 
With heavy hearts and a curse or two for the cold front that pushed through this morning, we decided to head home. The Great Midwest Balloon Fest was going to keep on keepin' on, though. The pilot trick-or-treat would proceed as planned with pilots, who were all sitting in their baskets with fires lit overhead, being asked to blast propane in time with the music. At the end of the Star Spangled Banner (which only a handful of people stopped to honor...which kills my milspouse soul a little every time), all of the pilots lit up the sky with their burners on high and the temperature rose a degree or two instantly. Russell Stover candy was being dispensed to the young and young at heart but we decided that one trick or treat per year is enough. We came to see the glow but were warmed by fires instead. Time to call it a night. 
 
As we made our way against the crowd still entering, we heard volunteers offer to stamp tickets for free re-entry into tomorrow's festival. Promises were made about perfect weather and being worth the wait. I don't blame The Great Midwest Balloon Fest for unpredictable and uncooperative weather conditions tonight. However, I do view the marketing team as a group who over-promises and under-delivers. As an Army wife, I'm used to plans changing, events being canceled or rescheduled and mass chaos resulting from decisions made that are completely out of my control and I'm cool with all of it, as long as my expectations are managed. My husband learned this about me sometime around the second date and he's done a marvelous job of keeping me in the loop and preparing me for what to expect as often as possible. So, when it all goes to hell, at least I knew there was a possibility of that happening. All of the Facebook posts by the festival team promised great weather, balloon rides and a glow. A balloon pilot told me before a festival staff member that the glow would be canceled. As I buckled Blue into his car seat around 8 PM, I heard them announce that the glow would be canceled tonight. Well...duh. There is a difference between the power of positive thinking and making sure that you manage expectations, especially when people are paying money and driving upwards of an hour to attend your event. 

My only other concern about this event is where the money goes. Their website says that they are a not-for-profit and the money raised benefits many other not-for-profits. According to the festival website, the 2015 festival will benefit Wounded Warriors, City Union Mission, Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, Lansing Kiwanis and Heart of America Barbershop Chorus. That is a lot of non-profit organizations. And when someone gave the festival 1-star on their Facebook page and cited expense as the biggest complaint, a staff member immediately called attention to the overwhelming price tag that is attached to an event like this; from paying the pilots, to renting the space to providing restroom facilities. I'm not sure what's left over for these charities at the end of the day. 

So, it seems I'm a little down on the Great Midwest Balloon Fest and I think it's because I expected more...which has nothing to do with a canceled glow or a red flag. I think about how phenomenal this could be. Ditch the carnival rides and food and focus on the inherent magical nature of a hot air balloon. Spark the imagination and provide quality over quantity. Make it all about the hot air balloons, from balloon-shaped cookies to hands-on experiments demonstrating lighter-than-air physics to a photo op with the old guy from Up. Now, that I would pay to see. 

We still have one more Great Midwest Balloon Fest event left. We will be heading to Bonner Springs at dawn on Sunday morning to walk the 5K with balloons overhead. Hopefully. May it finally be as wonderful as they promise. 

If you go: 
1. It's located at the Ag Hall of Fame in Bonner Springs. 
633 North 130th St, Bonner Springs, KS in your GPS should get you there. Then follow the crowd. 
2. Price is $15/adult, $8.50/child and 4 and under is free (but some people mentioned that last year the price jumped to $20 at the door)
3. The festival on Saturday runs 2 PM - 10 PM with the special characters inflating around 5:30 and the standard balloons inflating around 6:30. It was dark enough for a beautiful glow by around 7. 
4. There are tons of port-a-potties but not a single changing table to be seen. They were clean and well-stocked but I only used one and it was 30 minutes after the gate opened on the first day. I would keep some tissues in your bag as someone complained last year of restrooms running out of toilet paper early on Saturday. 
5. We started with $40 cash and bought 6 tickets for 2 rides, 2 meals and 1 beer and left with $13. 
6. Tickets are $1.00/each and each ride is 3-4 tickets. There is only one kiosk that sells tickets and one person in that kiosk. Plan accordingly. 
7. Look for the flag near the balloon field to determine wind conditions. 
8. You can bring strollers, camping/lawn chairs and blankets. If you plan on staying the day, that's probably a good idea.
9. No coolers or bottles or pets. 
10. We parked easily with a Prius and it wasn't at all muddy when walking around, despite having rained all day. Should be perfect tomorrow.
11. The carnival is small and could get crowded. There are several "step up and win it" booths plus 2 or 3 rides for toddlers and about 6 or 8 rides for older kids/adults. In general, I despise carnivals but the small crowd and lack of lines made Blue's enthusiasm for it this time more enjoyable. I can't speak for Saturday. 
12. If you just can't bring yourself to pay admission, you can still enjoy the balloon glow from across the street. Technically, I think you can park in the festival parking lot and get right up to the gate without actually having to pay anything. And hot air balloons, when fully inflated, are huge. You'll have a great view for free and without the crowds.
13. As a "consolation prize", if you attended tonight's festival and got your hand or ticket stamped, you can re-enter tomorrow. Hopefully, the winds from the west will have died down a bit. 
 
I hope this is helpful to anyone on the fence about attending or needing more info about the event. If you know me, you know I try to find a silver lining in everything although usually events we attend are well-organized, fun and interesting. Tonight we met an amazing woman doing great work for the animals she loves and helped to fund her passion. And Neal got to eat some meat on a stick. 

 

Monday, October 12, 2015

We're Down With OP: A Review of Pumpkin Hollow at Deanna Rose Children's Farmstead

*Just an FYI for readers who have been with me since day 1: These posts are meant to inform the families currently stationed at Leavenworth, as well as those who will arrive in the coming years. It's a challenge to know what's worth it and what's not when you only live somewhere for 11 months. These are just my opinions on local events and activities and will hopefully guide families in making educated choices on how to spend their time here. 
The Deanna Rose Children's Farmstead (named for the first female police officer in Kansas to die in the line of duty), has kicked off its annual Pumpkin Hollow event. The fun and games will continue daily until Saturday, October 31st. Located in Overland Park, Kansas, it's a solid 45 minute drive from Ft. Leavenworth with about 3 large construction zones along the route. However, we have been almost every day except Saturday and we've never lost more than a minute or 2 in these zones.

Admission to the farmstead is free Monday - Thursday and $2 per person Friday - Sunday. Parking is free and ample, even on a busy Saturday. There is a cafe near the entrance where you can purchase snacks, drinks and ice cream and a concession stand in the back (near the pigs, turkeys, butterfly garden) where you can buy brown bag lunches. For kids, the brown bags include a hotdog or pb&j (an Uncrustable), chips, gummy snack, drink and a small, plastic farm animal for $5.00. Although I don't love the nutrition values in the sandwich, we only visit about once every couple of months and it's a treat that he'll stop and eat when there are so many things to do other than eat lunch. For adults, there is a similar brown bag meal that can include a pretty tasty BBQ or turkey sandwich, chips and a drink (no toy, sadly). While you are not allowed to bring outside food into the farmstead, you can use one of the many picnic tables (most with shade) near the parking lot to eat anything you brought. And re-admission to the farm after lunch is easy.

In general, we adore the farmstead, especially as a family who doesn't have easy access to local farms. It's a phenomenal and educational experience for everyone. And I could easily spend an entire post describing the many activities available just on the farm, but for now, I'm going to stick to Pumpkin Hollow, their annual autumn event that begins on the other side of the ponds, just past the playgrounds.


The thrill of October begins right at the front gate with an enormous inflated black cat (whose head moves side to side, much to the delight of our son) and some banjo-picking good-ole skeletons. There are several other Halloween-themed inflatables around the entrance. Near the front restrooms, there is a haunted train with a vampire who raises and lowers out of his coffin. There are also several ghosts which, apparently, look a lot like punching bags to any boy under the age of 34.
Signs for everything will guide your way as soon as you enter. There is also a large map to the right of this sign. If you get lost on the farm, you are doing it wrong. So hang a left after the gate and continue down the path, past the playgrounds, over the bridge and hang a right. You'll see the Pumpkin Hollow admission booth on the right.
Goats on the left...
Now, let's go ahead and announce the purple elephant in the room so you can either quit reading now or see what all of that money gets you. Admission into Pumpkin Hollow is $8 per person and children under 1 are free. Do I think $8 is a little steep? Yes. Is that crazy talk for many of the 5-8 person families on post? Definitely.
8 x  8 = 64
64 > reasonable for a couple of hours climbing on hay bales

And that's not even common core math. BUT that price includes a horse-drawn wagon ride to and from the games (reins are wrapped in bells so you can jingle all the way) and a pumpkin of your choosing. OK so a family of 8 gets 8 pumpkins, like it or not. But hey...
8 pumpkins = canned pumpkin for life

In a perfect world, you could pay less (say $4 per person) and opt out of the pumpkin. But that's probably more bookkeeping than is physically feasible on a gorgeous, fall Saturday in October.  So, just to make sure we are all on the same page, if you go to Pumpkin Hollow on a Friday - Sunday, it will be $10 per person. Now you can't say I didn't warn you.

One of the benefits of being a 3-person family with 1 person in school 90% of the time is that this only cost us $16 but our neighbors paid $32. So, let's see what that gets you....
Aforementioned hay ride. The only rule is that kids have to sit in the middle, adults can sit on the edge. But I've learned from growing up on the river that you never let your legs dangle so it's the center for me, too. I'm not sure if Sharp's is volunteering their services or being paid (that could be part of your admission cost) but the driver was friendly and helpful, especially with getting little ones on and off the wagon.

A staff member is there to greet the group, give you a little lay of the land and remind you that it's best to save the pumpkin picking for the end. Also, there are no bathrooms out here. Just so ya know. Then the gate is closed behind you and the festivities can begin!

We visited on a Tuesday morning shortly after they opened. It was overcast but warm and we had maybe 10 other families in the field with us. I imagine that it gets a little nuts on the weekends so I would strongly suggest doing this during the week, if you can....especially if you have very little ones or they are timid around other kids. Also, I think maybe the max age on this would be about 8 or 9. This is the perfect autumn activity for toddlers, up to about 7 years old. If you have kids in a wide range of ages, there is something for everyone, but it's definitely geared more toward the younger ones.
"Horse" riding. Three wooden horses, in graduated size, are fitted with saddles and ready for adventure.

Connect 4. Or 6. Or 7. I thought this would be a bit of a bust but since we have the game at home, Blue took right to it and stayed for a little longer than I thought he would. (For reference, he's 39" tall.)


Shoe Golf. This is one of those things I'm just going to file under Genius Ideas I Wish I Had Thought of First. Mini golf club + toddler = Children's Mercy Hospital. But stick a shoe on it and it's less of a weapon, more of an innovative and challenging game. For the record, the Croc provides the most accurate putt.



Hay bale mountain with slide. At some point in the past 3 years, we have scarred Blue with playground slides and while he will climb up, he almost never slides down. Unless he's with one of us. So, just FYI, this slide is a little fast if you're weighing in at 175+ but perfect for the little ones.

Last weekend, we attended a fall festival in Des Moines that included a corn pool. It was, quite literally, an Olympic pool-sized area, full of corn. It was amazing for about 3 minutes and then Blue was bored and his diaper was full of corn. These corn bins are a better size and the center poles with holes lend themselves to experimentation and play.
But still enough corn to bury your friends, if that's on your bucket list.


The barrel train includes a ride through a tunnel, which is a nice touch and a little different from others we've ridden. Although, this train is for kids only. The barrels are "too delicate" for adults so if you have very little ones, they can ride in the lap of older kids or skip this activity.
There is a milking station near the front of the farmstead so I'm not surprised there is one in Pumpkin Hollow, as well. My 3-year old, thanks to Curious George and the Children's Farmstead, can sufficiently milk a cow...y'know...in case this whole Army thing doesn't work out.
The boys loved this game more than I thought they would. Each side has a bucket with about 4 golf balls. There is a hole at the top of the maze and one at the bottom. They had fun "racing" each other and taking bets on whose ball would be first to the bottom. My only concern is that they are golf balls, but y'know...parental supervision.
Where else can you make a toddler-sized chicken lay a half dozen golf balls? Although I'm pretty sure Blue now thinks that chickens poop eggs instead of laying them. We'll save that lesson for another time.


Giant checkers and tic-tac-toe. It took a little while for the boys to make it over to these games and once they did, it only lasted a couple of minutes, but these would be great for the older kids. The biggest checkers set I ever played with as a kid was the one at Cracker Barrel so I'm sure this would have been a hit with Wee Ally.
The corn maze was perfect for younger kids because they could go in alone without getting lost. And yes, there was a minion made out of rolls of hay.
Other games included
 pumpkin hoops with soft, stuffed balls
 a toddler-sized tunnel
 adult-sized stilts...which I couldn't do and I'm going to 100% blame my foot surgeries last spring
 a short hay tunnel
and climbing hay bales

When you are all done, the patch of (already-picked) pumpkins is just past the curtain.
 
And then you can head to the exit and a wagon will meet you to take you back.

The boys loved Pumpkin Hollow and we stayed a little over an hour. We probably could have stayed longer but it was getting close to lunch and nap time. I have to admit, when I was told it was $8 for games and a pumpkin, I was a bit skeptical. However, a vote on the way home revealed it was Mommy and kid-approved! It is a great deal for a one-time visit and the memories we made with our friends were priceless.
$8 < priceless