Maxed Out at IMAX

I thought we'd escaped the rain that has been plaguing the rest of the state, but, alas, today was a total wash with heavy rain from sun up to sun down. What's a mom at the shore to do?


I planned a field trip, that's what. After lunch and (another) painful quest to locate shoes for everyone in the house, we piled into the car and headed to Atlantic City. We've spent a lot of time this summer learning about sea life, and so I thought a trip to the Atlantic City Aquarium, followed by a viewing of the IMAX movie Life Under the Sea at the Tropicana, would be a perfect experience for us.


Our shoe search and the drive to the Aquarium took longer than I had expected. We no sooner got to the Aquarium then it was time to turn around to get to the Tropicana for a 3:00 showing of the movie.


I'm not a casino fan. It's no secret among those near and dear to me. Too many people, too much noise, too much money being poured down the drain. We walked into the Tropicana and Maggie, baby sitter extraordinaire, commented that Charlotte was on sensory overload. I think we all were. It was Christmas in July in the Tropicana, complete with carols and fake snow. We both felt kind of funny heading into a casino with three kids and no intention of gambling.


The thing about finding a fun activity in the rain at the shore is you are not the only one with the idea. We arrived at the theater about 30 minutes before the show was scheduled to start. I stood in line to order tickets and then in another line to buy snacks--Twizzlers for Carter, popcorn for Will and M&Ms for Charlotte. The lobby was already packed with people in line to go to the movie. It was a true feat of balance, strength and coordination for two adults to get three kids, four drinks, three snacks and a stroller into the theater.


The show was sold out. My goal in a public viewing of anything is to get an aisle seat next to a door, in case I need to make a speedy exit. Once everyone was seated, there was not an empty seat, and much drama as ushers checked tickets to make sure that everyone in a seat had a ticket.

The movie was in 3-D and the special effects were cool. All of the kids in the audience would reach out to try to grab an unsuspecting clown fish or dodge an aggressive eel.

Much of the movie was lost on me. I had been feeding Charlotte M&Ms to keep her quiet and happy during the show. She was, however, fascinated by the 3-D glasses. I should have just gotten her a pair of her own, since she kept grabbing mine and they were soon covered in chocolaty, sticky fingerprints.

She enjoyed much of the movie, making fishy sound effects and jumping up excitedly at the action in the film. Soon, though, she was distracted by Carter's orange soda, wanting so much to grab the straw and wave drops of syrupy drink all over the audience. When I stopped her, she screamed--time for a speedy exit.

As my eyes adjusted to the bright light of the casino again, I realized I was covered in M&M technicolor, smeared all over my shorts and t-shirt, as well as all over Charlotte's face, fingers and shirt.

All in all, I'd sum up the day like a backwards Mastercard commercial: price of IMAX tickets for 5, $60; candy, soda and popcorn, $30; parking at the Tropicana, $5; a new pair of shorts and two new t-shirts, $80; an afternoon of navigating through rainy AC streets, dealing with grumpy old people wanting to watch an IMAX show on their own terms, balancing three kids and their gear all for a 40-minute show, worthless.

Maybe on a sunny day or in the off-season, this would have been a more enjoyable trip. The kids did like the movie and, without prompting, thanked me for the day out. But for the next rainy day, I'll think of something else to do.

Gambling for Family Fun

Our boys beg to go to Atlantic City. Not to gamble, of course, although they have seen the gaming floors, filled with one-armed bandits and roulette wheels, as we trek from parking garage to the infamous boardwalk, but to go to their favorite restaurant, The Rainforest Cafe.

There are many reasons why they enjoy this outing. The restaurant is decorated to look like you're dining al fresco in the rainforest. Every so often, the already dim lights flash and the room fills with mist as life size, animated jungle animals yelp and screech. (The boys love this part. Charlotte, not so much.) The highlight, I believe, is light-up drinking cups. Filled to the brim with lemonade or chocolate milk, these plastic cups sparkle in the restaurant's darkness. Plus, they can take them home, making them a drinking vessel and souvenir all in one. So, when Craig and I feel like driving for 30 minutes, finding a parking spot in an overpriced casino garage, and spending $100 of our hard-earned cash on lunch, we're happy to oblige.

If this were an SAT question, I'd say the Atlantic City Boardwalk is to the Ocean City Boardwalk as Barney Miller is to Andy Griffith. Take the OC Boardwalk, add alcohol, cigarettes, gambling and pawn shops, replace surreys with pedicabs, and you have the AC Boardwalk. I don't know if I'd ever venture there with the kids on my own, not just because it is a slightly rougher destination, but also because I'm not sure I could ever navigate back through the casino to the car.

Yet, people watching and shopping on the AC Boardwalk can't be beat. We dined today at the Rainforest Cafe, the result of some good behavior and several weeks of begging from the boys. With full bellies, and empty pockets, we walked off our lunch by exploring the near-by shopping mall, The Pier Shops at Caesar’s, an extravaganza of overpriced designer stores overlooking the ocean. We never buy, just look, despite the Siren call of the technicolor candy store, It'Sugar, the home of giant gummy bears and other cavity-inducing treats.

At the end of the mall, on the first floor, is a fountain that displays a water show once an hour, on the hour. I wouldn't plan a trip around this attraction, but it sure was fun to watch. Loud music played as the fountain spouted water at difference heights and speeds, accompanied by flashing, multi-colored lights. Imagine fireworks, but with water instead of ammunition. The kids' reaction reminded me of watching 4th of July fireworks on the beach this year. Charlotte, wide-eyed in amazement, clapped away, unprompted by me. She clung to me like a koala bear, slightly taken back by the display, but intrigued nonetheless. Carter jumped in time to the music, raising his fists in the air, giving high fives to imaginary onlookers, his excitement both palpable and contagious. Will watched in awe, as Craig and I did as well. What an unexpected treat for us all.