Getting Lost in a 64 Box of Crayons

After 4 months of my "Crayola Experience" tickets sitting in my gmail inbox I finally decided to use them as a mommy-and-zombie playdate. While sitting in Florida Mall traffic I cynically thought "this better be worth the $35 I spent... I do not want to spend more money once inside".

At admissions we were each given a clear bag with 2 silver tokens inside- 2?! What could I possibly do with only 2 tokens...?! I immediately began searching for the token kiosk with zero success.

Fast forward to 4 hours later where I'm arguing with Zombie because I want to make another shark mold but she's ready to move onto the lava stations. The Crayola experience stimulates the right side of the brain through hands on, messy and oh-so-colorful activities, bringing out 5 year old in everyone. You begin with naming your own crayon, making your own puzzle ornaments and Christmas cards, you can even maek your own figurine out of melted crayons... so to answer the question we all have in the back of our minds- YES it lives up to the hype!

I noted a few social trends that scare but excite me about Zombie. She approaches kids her age like they are exotic animals- with added precaution and always starts with a waive to get their attention. While sometimes she's successful, other times kids find her too intense to befriend her. At the watercolor tables when these pompous 6 year olds (who stole our paintbrushes) came back for our paint pallet Zombie stood on her stool and yelled "YOU NEED TO SHARE!" they didn't come back for anything else. My 3 year old is a bad-(M)ass- a socially awkward bad-(m)ass!

At around 6:30 my stomach started to rumble and I remembered it had been hours since we'd last eaten. I would not recommend their "cafe" which has limited choices including: pizza, corn dogs, hot dogs and salad.

Since Hubs was taking us out to dinner in a few hours anyway we relied on a sugar rush of Dippin' Dots and Churros to sustain us for the next hour. After that the hunger was stronger than the urge to make more selfie coloring pages so we called it a day.

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Intimately thankful- a recap of our 2015 Thanksgiving

This past year has been a roller-coaster of mixed emotions and changes for my family. And when I volunteered to host Thanksgiving dinner this year I was nervous as to what it would mean for us and whether I'd be able to meet the expectations of what used to be my favorite holiday before the passing of my grandmother.

Unlike prior years where I make my dishes the day of, this year I prepped everything the night before. Giving me enough time to do some shopping thanksgiving day.For the menu we focused on old favorites (vegetarian style) : Lasagna Sweet Potato pecan casserole Collard Greens- the secret's in the smoked paprika Arroz con Guandules (rice and beans) Dominican pastelon Cranberry and herb stuffing Scallop potatoes (thanks to Brent!) Broccoli Salad w/soy based bacon Pastel en ojas

My mom was in charge of the desert which consisted of: -Sweet potato-coconut souffle -Almond Biscotti, Cranberry white chocolate cookies, mini carrot cakes, apple jam and cheese crackers, tres leche (yum!), Apple Pie (courtesy of Brent)

For the Birds my mom bought a stuffed turkey, hubs did a fall-off-the-bone turkey which was a huge hit and I KILLED a Tofurky roast! My first time (about 2 years ago) making the roast was a bust-but this year I figured out the trick!

This year I seasoned it and let it sit for a day and a half. Then I tossed some orange jam and orange slices and BAM. It was juicy and tender- so good my mom scooped some up herself!

In a long, cut out white and gold dress I felt like a 1920's holiday party hostess (cue the Nat King Cole and Ole Louis).

My family always dresses up and we all happened to wear sparkling gold which complimented our mood lighting, laughter, post-food coma-itis, and jazz music beautifully. It was good food and good energy.

When everyone was gone, and our house was still a moment of overwhelming vulnerability overtook me. And all that was left was hubs and I, dancing to Frank Sinatra at the end of our Gatsby-perfect Thanksgiving night.

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