Middle Child's Birthday Extravaganza

Middle Child has come a long way, socially.

Last year, he didn't really have any friends in his class. It could have been because of the bullying. It could have been because he can have a bit of a superiority complex. It could be because his kindergarten classmates were not interested in chemical reactions, planetary sciences or were tucking into chapter books.

This year, he learned he needs to give a little and he found himself a little niche. There are even a few of the popular athletic boys who eagerly seek Middle Child to play with "because he's smart and has neat ideas." My cup runneth over.

But given the chance to have a birthday party with classmates or spending a weekend with family in Niagara Falls, Middle Child picked the latter.

Middle Child is completely obsessed with facts. The books he reads are often stuff like trivia books or the Guinness Book of World Records. More than anything, though, he loves the Ripley's Believe It or Not series.

So when we went to Baby Sister and Home Chef's wedding in Niagara Falls, he made a decision to go to the Ripley's museum of oddity for his birthday. And he talked about it on a daily basis, believe me.

Last Friday after school, we piled the kids in the car. I booked us a room at the HoJo near Clifton Hill, where all the funhouses and rides and museums are. Middle Child had his list of things he must do and, thankfully, weren't unattainable.

One thing NOT on the list was to see the actual falls, though. There were no complaints when, after checking in, we walked down to the falls. We stuck around until dusk, watching the light shows on the American Falls, but were more mesmerized by the one on Horseshoe Falls. Of course, the kids got all puffed up when we told them that Horseshoe was entirely in Canada. "Ours is the best. Ours is the best," they sang and did some funky chicken dance. I'm sure it was very amusing to the Republican American tourists nearby. They had tons of energy considering it was way past bedtime and they did all that walking. So we stuck around until 10 when the fireworks started. Walking back to the hotel, Daughter sighed, "That was so nice–and it didn't cost us anything!"

Cost was a factor the next day. We ate at the Denny's next door with their inflated prices. The kids' meals were still $1.99 but Husband's bacon, eggs, hash browns and pancakes were something like $13. I had an egg, toast and grits for $8. Anyhow, it was totally palatable despite my conviction that no self-respecting Maltese person would willingly eat at a place called "Denny".

For those reading this who are not lucky enough to be Maltese, "denny" in Maltese means something along the lines of "gut-rot". I am not joking.

After breakfast, Husband took Baby Boy to the pool while we hit Must-See #1: Ripley's 4-D Moving Theatre. Baby Boy wouldn't make the height restriction, so off we went alone. We were the only ones there, but they put it on for us anyway. We were shaken about, imagining we're on an out-of-control logging truck, snowmobile, dune buggy and a bunch of other reckless vehicles. Fake snow shot around us, steam, rain. It was fun but Middle Child left a little green. Guess we shouldn't have come so close after eating breakfast.

Back to the hotel, the kids went into the pool for about a half-hour and got bored even with the curly slide and stuff. So we went back to the room, got clean in the completely red bathtub and shower (thumbs-up on Jen's tack-o-rama meter), checked out and hit the hallowed Ripley's museum. It was lots of fun for all of us, but Middle Child was in his element. You can easily tell when the boy is happy because he has this walk, walk, skip, walk, walk, skip. Anyway, he insisted on reading - I swear - every display. We were there for almost two hours.

The building itself was a marvel. It looked like it was a tower tipped over on its side. Wicked.

Next on Middle Child's Must-Do List was eat at the Rainforest Cafe. His teacher raved about it once and he's wanted to go ever since. The restaurant is right next to the Marvel Adventure City. If you know my kid, you'd know that place was on the list as well. But, disappointingly, it was only an arcade and not even specifically Marvel either. When Middle Child stated, "This probably isn't the one they advertised. Or maybe they changed it" we took it as a cue that we could shuffle the kids out of there. And, by now, Hollow Leg Husband was hungry again, so we went next door to the Rainforest Cafe.

Ever left somewhere feeling you got royally ripped off and felt really dirty? Our experience at the Rainforest Cafe did just that, and left me in a very sour mood afterward. Not only was the prices outrageous, but the food was lacklustre. Of course, it would have been nice had we been served together. Yup, just to prove a point yet again, I get bad service almost everywhere. My food (a simple grilled vegetable panini) came to me 15 fucking minutes after the rest of the family was served. Husband was long done his burger, as was Middle Child. Was it worth the wait? It was okay, but, c'mon. It's a sandwich. AND it would have been an extra $2 if you replaced the potato chips side with a salad or fries. I'm already spending $14 on a meatless sandwich. It should be wrapped in fucking gold for that price.

They sat us next to a fountain largely emblazoned "Protect the Earth". Meanwhile, their menu was mostly beef, beef and more beef. We waited for the fountain to do something crazy when the next rainstorm happened. The maitre d' really pumped this storm up to us as we were being seated. Whoop-dee-fucking-doo. We heard thunder and some of the large mechanical animals came alive. Niiiice.

Anyway, I could go on about the washroom attendant who practically held hygiene hostage for the sake of a tip (I carry Purell so shove your soap up your ass), or how the waiter threw our bill on our table with it landing between Daughter and Middle Child, but let's just leave it as one of those places we will never, ever, ever go back to. I mean, if the $78 bill wasn't enough of a battlecry, I could go on and on.

We hit the Guinness museum (world records and, unfortunately because I could have used one, the beer). That was a little dull. It was completely lost on Baby Boy because there wasn't really any hands-on exhibits. "I could just read the book," Daughter said with that pre-teen attitude just starting to bubble up.

Husband and I really wanted to go under the falls or take a Maid of the Mist ride but the kids were exhausted. We took one last look at the falls, bought some ice cream for the kids and got outta Dodge (with a quick photo pit stop at the Flying Saucer Restaurant.

And, since it was on the way, we dropped in on my parents to wish my old man a happy 63rd birthday.

Tucking in Middle Child that night, I got a very rare hug and kiss. "I love you, Mom," he said. "Thanks for making my dreams happen."

Again, my cup runneth over.