We took the girls to Walking with Dinosaurs last night, thanks to the generous PR people. I’ll admit that at first I was a bit disappointed that the dinosaurs were actually mechanized puppets on roller thingies. Not that I expected real dinosaurs, of course, though surely Steven Spielberg could’ve loaned out a few of the Jurassic Park velociraptors?
But as soon as the dinosaurs moved and dinosaur-growled and chomped on each other, it was easy to forget the rollers. As Dick said, they moved so realistically, so special-effect-like — even the baby T-Rex on human legs — that they were a pleasure to watch.
Sometimes I get impatient at educational shows. Sometimes, zoos and aquariums and museums try a little too hard to indoctrinate my kids on the horrors of human behavior like littering and not driving enough Priuses and drinking the milk of another species.
Happily, Walking With Dinosaurs resisted the temptation to blame the dinosaurs’ eventual demise on George W. Bush. He might very well be responsible for that, too, but the fossil record points to a 6 1/2 mile wide comet. (Which some scientists would like to name “The George W. Bush Comet of Ultimate Destruction.”) (Just kidding.) (I voted for the man.) (Twice.)
Instead, the paleontologist-narrator struck a fantastic balance between entertainment and education. We all learned new things, despite Sally being distracted by her bloody loose tooth, and Susan being distracted by the popcorn, and Spot being distracted by the need to be my “special titty.” Her meows were a whimsical counterpoint to the life and death struggle below us.
Dick and I were distracted by the parents directly in front of us, who did everything but dangle their kids over the short (and possibly flimsy, I don’t care if it is reinforced concrete) balcony wall. Our view of the stage was amazing, one might even say pterydactyl-like, but Dick and I discovered that we suffer from parenting-induced vertigo, the feeling that at any moment a wobbly toddler could go hurtling over the edge into a dinosaur-infested abyss.
At one point, when the dad had one of the kids perched precariously on his shoulders, Dick said the soles of his feet were tingling with anxiety. Apparently, some parents are unaware of the fragility of life, even if they do drive Priuses.
Then Sally whispered that she was scared to be so high up. “Nonsense!” I said. “We’re not afraid of heights in this family!” I said, as I relaxed my hold on Spot, slightly.
This morning all three girls begged to go walking with the dinosaurs again. I put them off with a promise to visit the museum soon, but Sally persisted. She thinks she would be able to concentrate much better on the show now that her tooth is a thing of the past.
Jane
{I’ve opened the comments again. I feel so stupid. And so humbled. Thanks for putting up with me and my neuroses. Thank you for your kind emails. I’ll have more to say on my “experiment” soon, but in the meantime, I’m just gathering my courage to ask Dick how to put the Comment link back in the posts (for now a comment box appears in the single post view). Dick is going to be glad for the chance to say “I told you so.”}
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Aah, my boys sooo wanted to go to this and it sounds downright dangerous. With twins running rampid (not sure if that’s a word) I think it was good we passed this one up. Not to mention it’s a bit of a drive for us. And you’re right, it probably was Bush’s fault and therefore probably mine too for voting for him. twice. Not going to tell my boys that it’s my fault the dinosaurs are dead though. Glad the comment form is back, my right arm is reattached. Oh, and just in case you’re wondering, my kitchen still isn’t clean.
Just to check, was Spot doing a toddler pronunciation of “kitty”? Because, you know, down here, titty = booby. Hang on, just re-read that she was meowing, so yeah, it was a cute toddler pronunciation.
The parents in front of you remind me of a walking tour through East Berlin (of course, you expected that similarity, right?). It was a cool tour, we had an ex-New Yorker university student as our guide, and he was a part of a team of guides taught by some former MI5 or KGB agent who’d lived in Berlin pre- and post-wall. Or something cool and impressive in the brochure like that.
Anyway, we were on Unter den Linden near the Brandenburger Tor, and he starts talking about a hotel over the way. Tells us about Catherine Zeta-Jones and Michael Douglas staying there recently for the Berlin film festival. We’re all “oh, ok, that’s nice, it’s the Four Seasons equivalent in Berlin”. Then he tells us that’s the hotel where Michael Jackson dangled his child (Pillow? Duvet? whatever the child’s name is) over the balcony. All of a sudden our deep-set-tourist-instincts come out, and we all take photos. Because a moment before, it was just a hotel. Now, it was *the* hotel where Michael Jackson … yada yada yada.
So, Walking with the Dinosaurs – just like Berlin, but hopefully with less plastic surgery!
(And John Howard’s probably at fault as well, along with Bush. I mean, the Obamas couldn’t move into that guest house because Bush was giving him a medal, so that’s got to make Howard at fault in some way).
Congrats to Sally on losing the tooth!
It sounds like a good time was had by all.
Sorry for being a lurker in the past (and not commenting all that often). I generally lurk on the blogs that I read because I am lazy. I log on to my reader and it is like I am announcing: “Entertain me, for that is why you exist.”
And then I post something on my blog and occasionally, I get a comment. It makes my day.
So yeah. You called me out a little bit. I guess I need to get some bloggy ettiquete (sp?) and offer some comment love as thanks for the entertainment.
Hmmm, are you *sure* GW wasn’t out there shooting the dinosaurs himself? You know, being such a war-monger and all.
a side note, but I OFTEN read but don’t comment simply because I feel I have nothing to add, as all the other comments do a fine job.
Sometimes, all I’d have to say is “Yes, me too!” and it makes me feel silly to not have anything more thought provoking, so I wait patiently for my chance to be meaningful.
Yay! Comments are back!
Oh, and glad you got to see the dinosaurs and all that, too.
We’re all neurotic; some of us just hide it better than others. Chin up and all that, m’kay?
Oh good! Comment back.
First of all Prius(es) or whateve hahaha I’m laughing wayyyyyy too hard at 6:22 AM.
I wanted to take Landon to Walking with the Dinos sooooo bad, but just couldn’t afford it. Maybe I’m glad now since I would have had a hard time repressing my inner “i must mother everyone and take care of everyone as they almost fall off the balcony”.
This show was pretty amazing, I have to say. I can’t believe you didn’t mention the bit about the dinosaurs that didn’t sweat or pee. Not that it was particularly relevant, but it’s too freakish not to include.
We took our kids to Niagra Falls a few years ago and realized that for parents with 4 kids age 5 and under, who are both scared of heights, it is the wrong destination. I’m sure it was Bush’s fault that we didn’t think of that before we left.
You say “even the baby T-Rex on human legs” – I think “those old cigarette commercials that have dancing packs of cigarettes”. Just wanted you to know that toddlers aren’t the only easily distractible people in this world.
It’s hard not to pass our fears onto our kids. We now have a two story house and while I’m fine hanging over the railing to talk to hubby downstairs, if I saw my daughter doing it, she’d be in her room for the rest of the day. I walk hugging the wall away from the railing when I’m carrying my son just in case I trip. Sounds like those people were the let-their-kids-bungee-jump-from-the-railing-types.
By the way, I’m totally a lurker. It’s hard to comment when I never know how much time I have before kids are up and yelling…
Max is really into dinosaurs right now, but all the videos I’ve found about dinosaurs are either way too scary and graphic for a little kid, way too dry and boring for a little kid, or it’s a dumb cartoon where the dinosaurs talk and eat breakfast cereal. We tried a Walking With Dinosaurs one and it seemed great until this swarm of ants descended upon a baby dinosaur that had been left alone in his nest. I had to just turn it off and lie to my horrified child to assure him that the mommy dinosaur had come back and saved the baby.
I can’t believe you admitted you voted for Bush, twice! Just kidding. I thought that dino thing looked intriguing but if I have to watch parents endanger their child’s life, I’m out.
On the heights — maybe all sporting arenas are built so that the upper tier seems to almost hover over the stage, and probably engineers and such have made sure it’s safe, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hold my breath whenever we got in or out of our seats (you know, for the popcorn break and potty break and coke break). (Kirsty — love the Michael Jackson comparison!)
I realize my fears are irrational (probably). I’m sure if we went to some professional sporting events, I’d eventually get used to the extreme stadium seating, but then I’d have to sit through some professional sporting events, and I’ll take my phobias over that, any day!
Marie — I was concerned about whether it would be too scary for my (sensitive, delicate-flower) girls, but it was okay. There was one baby that got eaten, but it wasn’t graphic, and the mommy dinosaur came out in time to protect the other hatchling. I don’t want to terrify my kids, but it’s a fact of life that not everyone’s gonna make it. But they must have taken out the ant swarm (thank goodness!)
hmmm….they are selling tickets for this in tulsa right now….my 4 yo would like to go have to say it looks like a daddy kind of event to me….
glad comments r back
I am very proud of myself in that I have stopped counting the comments.
Ok, I have stopped counting them AS OFTEN as I used to…
Anyway.
I agree. Heights with precious children are way freakier than just me and myself. Much more at risk when your babies are up there…
Have you ever heard of “the secret?” Well, not to give it away, but…the whole idea is the power of your thinking. Whatever you think will happen if you think about it enough. If the secret is to be believed, I will eventually drop my child while carrying them down a flight of stairs…that’s all I can think about when I’m climbing down those crazy/scary concrete stairwells. I totally understand your paranoia
Without comments, it is not really blogging! Blogging is all about the connecting and the conversation, don’t you think so?
And thanks for Twittering my post! Or is that “tweeting”?
Hey Jane! Thanks for stopping by and commenting on my quilled dogs. You’re right – so much easier than the real thing – never need to be fed or walked when it’s only 7 degrees out and they refuse to go until they get to the end of the block – this would be MY dog!
BUT my kid has grown up and I don’t have to worry about my dog being warped by the dinosaurs… then again, I should have quit when the kid moved out. Why was it I wanted a dog?
maybe it was me
I couldn’t open Jane’s blog
I’m writing haikus
I’m late on beads post
have you heard of perler beads?
will send ten thousand