Legoland

We waited. We crossed off days to the grand opening. We bought annual passes. We were not first in line...but tried to be.  We hit Legoland on opening day. Let me explain why this was a terrible idea.

Massive crowds of like-minded lego junkies aficionados.

Poor organisation by the Lego peeps who failed to realise how seriously Legos are taken in my neck of the woods (or how cray cray their fan base is in one of the largest metro areas in the US...)

Small area of actual Lego play with long lines of adventure hungry children standing about staring intently in a manner not creepily unlike Children of the Corn. Gollum had nothing on these kids.

Standing in line for 45 minutes to buy one of those initial family snapshots they take, only to find that your child closed his eyes and grimaced so well that no one seeing this photo would ever believe he is remotely normal.

Not enough lego parts for the Lego Racer area. Not cool trying to build a car with only two and half wheels. Maybe it could have been a motorcycle race.

What we may return for:

The 4-D movie was pretty good.
If not so crowded it would be much more fun (better planning on my part).
Legoland itself is a a great deal of fun - just not opening day!
Returning to buy Lego sets we rarely ever see in stores.
Why not? It's LEGOLAND!! Even the bathroom stall doors were nifty.

 

 

 

 

 

Routine

I am grateful that most days feel very different and always interesting. Every day is a choice. A choice to be giving. A choice to be kind. A choice to avoid the merry-go-round of negative thinking and to rejoice in all the positive that surrounds us all if we only look for it.

It is not always easy. Last week for example, I found myself in Brooklyn for a deposition (not personal) and one of those giant, union blow-up rats was parked outside the office I had to visit. Traffic had been terrible and I was not looking forward to the next several hours. Yet I noticed the Brooklyn Bridge and thought how marvelous it looked in the morning light.

 

 

 

Even normal routines are full of grace. The strangers who wish me a good day. My child's first warm hug good morning. My husband's terrible jokes and excellent timing. An uplifting chat with an old friend.  Finding a solution that simplifies the complicated and saves time and resources. Partnering with a smart colleague over a challenging project. Intellectually stretching in all the areas that hold my interest, even those that lay dormant for this moment in time. A new song that captures some elusive tie to a million happy moments.

 

 

The chance to improve and grow into the best self I can be. My normal routine is never actually "normal" as much as it is embracing the amazing in the ordinary. Sometimes I enjoy the rush and juggling so much that I forget to breathe. And in those seconds when I do stop and notice all the small things, I see how the small things make for an excellent life that I am grateful for.