Disney World: The First Day

My daughter was very intrigued by the idea that real princesses lived at Disney world and had been asking us if we could go there for vacation.  My husband does not have a job that allows for much time off.  Don’t get me wrong, he has over 60 sick and/or vacation days that he has never used.  But inevitably if he tries to go somewhere, there will be a problem that only he can fix.  So, it was almost my son’s second birthday and I said that if we wanted to go to Disney, that we should go now while little man can fly free.  My husband agreed and said that he could take three days (two nights) for the trip.  I had a week and a half to plan our, last minute, trip to Disney World.

I looked online and finally chose the hotel with the safari animals that grazed right outside of your room.  I then called the Disney phone number to book the trip.  They tried hard to sell me on the food plans, but we were going to be there for two nights.  They did tell me about the princess dinner and makeover and I booked both for the second day.  Since we were booking so last minute the flights were expensive, but luckily my husband has a lot of air miles.  A week and a half later, we flew to Florida and our trip to Disney World began.

We flew in very early the first day and got to the hotel well before check-in.  They had one room available and we took it; it was smaller than the one I had booked, but it still had a good view of the animals and it was ready now.  We could go drop off our bags and head straight to the park.  After leaving the room, we went straight to Magic Kingdom.  My cousin said that they kept their daughter‘s stroller turned backward so that when they got up to the Cinderella’s famous castle, their little girl would be shocked.  I tried the same thing and my daughter said, “WOW” but then when we got up to it, she said, “Wait!  It’s too small!  Is there anything upstairs?  Where are all the rooms?  Where is the ballroom? Where do they dance? I want to see Cinderella’s bedroom!  You just walk through it!  Is this really her castle?”  I did not realize how much thought she had put into this!

We had just eaten lunch and were waiting to ride our first ride, when my daughter lost her shoe.  It was the weirdest thing ever!  We were in line for the “It’s a Small World” ride.  The ride was almost underground and lines were up above the ride.  Since you were up so high, they had pieces of aluminum between the top railing and the floor, but they left a few inches open at the bottom.  Well, my daughter’s favorite purple crystal flower flip flop came off her foot.  She scooted her foot forward (to inch her toes back in it) when suddenly it slid under the tiny opening in the wall and fell two stories below into the ride’s rushing water.  She burst into tears and I was shocked that such a freaky thing just happened.  After 35 minutes of waiting, we got on our very first Disney ride with our crying, one-shoed daughter.  My daughter looked sad during the ride, while my son looked very confused.   When the boat docked, my husband got the manager and asked if he could quickly look for the shoe.  He looked for a while, but no shoe.  We headed to the gift shop and bought her some very hard and uncomfortable princess shoes.

We then walked around and tried to find the shortest lines.  We got on the teacups very quickly, and then got in line for Dumbo.  We had finally made it to the very front, and were the next ones in line, when the ride shut down; the ride completely stopped working after we had waited for 25 minutes.    People were still sitting in the little elephants, waiting to be flown around, but the employees just could not get it working.  My husband whispered, “I bet it is a storm.  I’ll be there is a system that shuts down these outdoor rides if there is lightening.”  I said, “Wouldn’t the employees know that?”  He said “I doubt Disney can afford to leave safety decisions up to individual employees.”   He had a point.  I looked up at the sky, it was barely drizzling but, it was pitch black.  There definitely was a storm close by, so we decided to leave the ride.   The kids were devastated that they did not get to ride Dumbo, but it was probably for the best because I realized that my son had pooped his pants.  I headed for the bathroom to change his diaper and when we came out the rain had picked up.

We found another ride, which was indoors, and the line was protected from the rain. The peter pan ride was fun, but still scared my kids.  My daughter did not like that you were flying in the dark and could not see where you were going.  My son did not like Captain Hook or the alligator.   When we got off the peter pan ride it was storming.  It was not just raining, it was dumping water.   Everywhere you looked, people were scattering like bugs.  Everyone was running for cover.  I found a shop and spent $40 on ponchos, and we decided to make a run for it.  We ran back to the bus that went to our hotel.  We all looked like a family of wet rats as we walked through the hotel to our room.  My husband put the stroller out on the balcony to dry out and we put our bathing suits on and went down to the pool.  We were already wet and the worst of the storm seemed to be over.  We played in the pool for a while and then went in for dinner.

At dinner, my daughter spoke of her absolute devastation concerning the fact that she spent an entire day at Disney world and had not yet seen a princess.  We went back to our room, watched the zebras and giraffes from our balcony, took a bath and tried to get the kids to bed.  I brought an inflatable toddler bed for my little man.  I put a clean blanket on the floor and put his little bed beside me on the floor.  I lay beside my daughter, but he kids were too excited to sleep.  After two hours of them chatting, (around 10:00) they finally went to sleep.  I woke up around midnight because I heard banging on the wall, and it was my daughters head.  She had sleep apnea at the time and would thrash around in her sleep.  She had thrown herself against the wall – ouch.  I pulled her back on the bed, put my pillow against the wall and tried to go back to sleep.  No time later, I was up again because I heard mumbling.  I looked at my daughter and she was sleeping, but then looked down to check on my son.  I looked for him, but he was not in his bed.  I popped up and saw him standing at my husband’s bed.  He was talking to my husband, who was sound asleep and snoring up a storm.  My son would ask my husband a question and then my husband would give a loud snore (as a response) and for some reason my toddler found this hilarious!    I was like, “Seriously! Go back to bed!”

I got my little guy and laid him back down, but he just got up and went exploring again.  I   finally put him in the bed with me (and my daughter).  They were all over each other and kept pushing each other; it was a nightmare.  My daughter kept hitting the wall and trying to sleep sideways, while my son kept flipping upside down and almost falling off of the end of the bed.  We were all up by 5:30 because the kids were pushing and fighting over the pillows.  After about 5 hours of broken sleep, I got up and showered and while the kids watched the animals from the balcony.  I needed caffeine, and a lot of it, so we headed out for an early breakfast.  I thought about those stupid hats you see in magazines that hold cans (or drinks) on the top and have straws that come down and reach your mouth.  I wondered if I could find one and keep it filled with diet coke.  I was going to need a caffeine drip if we had to accomplish so much in one day.  I was pretty sure that margaritas were not allowed but, maybe, diet coke.  Besides, I was too tired to care about looking foolish today.  Today, we were on a mission; a mission to meet a “Real Princess” before our flight tomorrow morning.  Today I had to just put on my big girl panties and do what I had to do to make our first trip to Disney world a success – no pressure though!

Day two:  Now it gets interesting!!!!  Yikes!



Just Rest, Well Maybe Not!

I find it interesting, the times that my children decide to actually listen to me.  Yesterday, I asked my son to “sit back and rest”.  He did just what I asked, but he made a huge scene in the process!

So, we were sitting in the waiting room at my son’s Ear, Nose and Throat doctor.  We have to go to that office, every week, for his speech therapy session.  His appointment time is at 1:45 and the office is usually very quiet.  The doctors and staff must take lunches around 1:00 because the place is always pretty empty.  Today there was one other couple sitting in the waiting area.  The couple looked to be in their late 60’s.  The man had his mouth hanging open and was sound asleep, while his wife was reading magazines. I told the kids to go sit down while I waited for someone to show up behind the desk and check us in.

The kids ran over to a little sofa, which was exactly across from the couple.  They kept getting up and switching seats and giggling.  When I finished paying at the desk, I walked over and told the kids to calm down and not bother the other people in the waiting room.  “Keep it quiet guys!” I said, but they just kept standing up and sitting back down.  A few minutes later I said, “Come sit beside me!  You must be tired from school! Just sit back and REST!”

My son jumps up beside me and starts to get comfy; he is actually starting to relax until he hears the man, who is sitting directly across from him, make a loud gasping snore.  My son pops up and looks at the man and (on my sons face) I see an expression of sheer intrigue.  My son leaned toward him, raised his eyebrows, and studied him in great detail.  My little guy then gets in the exact same position as the older man.  My child leans over on the arm of the sofa, puts his head back, crosses his ankles, opens his mouth and pretends to be sleeping.  The sleeping man’s wife, looks over and sees my son open his eye when the man, once again, snores.  My son then looked down and realigned himself so that he was in the correct position.  My son was now the snoring man’s mirror image; his little sleeping double.  The wife realizes what my son is doing.  She looked back and forth, between her husband and my “sleeping” son, and she started to smirk.  She looked slightly amused but went back right back to reading her article.

The room was very quiet.  The only noise you heard was the man snoring, but then it would get quiet again.  Moments later, the man snored, but instead of silence I heard “CAAAWW SHHHHHH, CAAAWW SHHHHHH”.  I looked over at my son and he was now fake snoring.  My son often does this and it sounds amazingly realistic.  I guess from all the years of hearing his father snore, my boy has it down!  He also does this in the car, when I tell him to close his eyes and rest.  He lays his head back, closes his eyes, and starts the fake snore.  I have heard him make this sound repeatedly, but I still have to look at him to verify that the incredibly loud, and eerily realistic, snore is coming out of my tiny little man.  I have heard his “snore” multiple times, but it is still funny every time he does it!

Anyway, I tap my son’s leg and tell him to “Stop it”, but he will not budge.  My daughter then grabs her stomach, saying, “Mommy it is so funny!  He is snoring!  Look at him!  I can’t breathe!”  I could feel the man’s wife looking at us.  When I finally looked at her, she just looked surprised as she listened to my toddler’s very nasal, very growly, and very realistic snore.  She then looked over at her sleeping, grumbling husband.  Her husband had been letting out some strange nasally gasping snores, but you could tell that she was so used to it, that she no longer even noticed.  Now my son was bringing it to her attention; well, to everybody’s attention.  I watched the woman behind the desk stand and look for the other snoring culprit.  She then left the desk and brought back a few other women.

It just kept getting worse!   Now, my daughter was howling, the ladies at the check-in desk were laughing and waving for other women to come look, and I was closing my eyes trying not to laugh.  My son’s snore was just getting louder and more similar to the old guy’s snore. My son would occasionally crack open an eye to make sure he was still copying the man’s position, determined to perfect his “sleeping man” imitation.  Now, why he decided the needed to imitate this man is something that only a toddler could understand. So, the wife had just been sitting there and taking all of this in, when all of a sudden she burst out laughing.  I mean tears were running down her face and she was rocking in her seat.  She slapped her husband (to wake him up) and pointed to my child who was “sleeping” and snoring up a storm.  Luckily, they had a good sense of humor about the whole thing because the entire office was now looking through the check-in window.  The entire building was in awe of the snoring competition that was taking place in the lobby.

Our speech therapist opened the door (while laughing) and called us back.  My son finally stopped his fake sleeping and said, “Mommy, I was tired, so I rested!”  When we headed back for his appointment, we had to walk past the couple.  The woman was still laughing and smiling when we left the lobby and it occurred to me that they were probably in the office to see if the gentleman had sleep apnea.  I had a feeling that we just added “fuel to the fire”.  I imagined his wife was saying, I told you your snoring was bad!

So, my son turned a fairly quiet office upside down but, those women obviously needed a good laugh. I am very relieved that the couple took it so well because, my son was just doing what I told him to do – I told him to sit back and rest!  My son did as requested; he just put that toddler spin on it!  This was one more time that my children made a scene!  Who would have thought that the suggestion to “REST” could have backfired?   Be careful what you ask for, huh!


Mom, Are Boys Gross?

My daughter walked into my room and said, “Mom, are boys gross?”  I replied, “A little bit honey.  Why are you asking?”  Because daddy just asked me to pull his finger again and then yelled “Did you hear that barking spider?”   “You usually say that is gross and stinky.  Jay seems stinky too.  Are all boys gross?”  I looked at my little girl and said, “Honey, boys tend to be a little grosser and stinkier than girls.  They like to poot and burp and make weird sounds.  They are just a little different than us, but it is OK.  They are free entertainment.”

I thought about how often I tell my husband that he is gross.  I didn’t think that I said it that much!  Well, maybe I do!  My husband is one of those guys who is only gross around close friends and family.  He is Mister Manners at most times; his manners are actually quite amazing and people find him very charming.  Then he comes home with gas, quacking like a duck, and cussing like a sailor.  I find him slightly gross, but extremely amusing.  He does know how to behave in public but, unfortunately for me, he leaves little to the imagination.

Recently he asked me to buy him some Metamucil.  I bought it, and a few weeks later he brought in the container and sat it on the kitchen island.   He then asked me to buy him more.  I asked, “Is that already empty?  Did you use it all?”  He said, “I did.  I’ve used it every day and now I’m pooping like a goose!”  I said, “That is so gross!”  He said “No!  That is great!  I am using less toilet paper and my boxers are much cleaner!  What was happening before was gross!  Why do you think I switched to all black boxers?  Because, all the other ones were getting a grayish-brown tinge!”  I shuddered and said, “You seriously have to get your own hamper!  And I think you should have to carry your own underwear to the laundry room.  Actually, just wash your underwear in the washing machine in the garage.  Our indoor washer is not for completely disgusting articles of clothing!  Poop stained pants go in the garage only! You know the rules!”

He laughed and said, “Oh honey, it is no longer a problem, thanks to the Metamucil my boxers are skid-free and safe to handle.  I said “You really are gross!”  He said, “Getting old is not easy.  Come look at my ear hairs!  I can’t believe how long they have gotten; my nose hairs too! I pulled one out last week that must have been connected to my brain!”  I just shook my head and sighed; I mean, what else could I say.  He leaves for work and I took the kids to school.

Two hours later I am pulling the clothes out of the dryer and carrying them into my bedroom.  I lay the clothes out and there are his dreaded black boxers.  Even though they were clean, I still held them like they were toxic waste.  I used a delicate pincher grasp, trying only to touch the waist band and avoid the crotch.  I was stacking up his black boxers and I realized that my clothes were completely stuck to them.  I don’t usually need fabric softener sheets on anything except fuzzy blankets, but for some reason his boxers had serious static cling.  This did not used to be a problem!  His underwear did not used to cling, for dear life, to all of our clothes!  “Why now?” I wondered; this was seriously bothering me.  Maybe it is all of that “pooping like a goose!”  Maybe the sheer amount of times that he is pulling those boxers up and down is causing too much friction in his underwear!

Going through his boxers, I was just getting more grossed out by the minute and then, I got seriously bummed out.  My delicate little panties were favorite t-shirts were static-clinged to the crotch of his black boxers.  Of all the things to get stuck to the crotch of his underwear; he could not have planned it better himself!  I pulled my “dainties” off of his boxers and apologized profusely to my clothes for having to experience that level of trauma. I then promised my lovely clothes that they would never again have to be washed with those vulgar boxers!

OK, so maybe (on occasion) I do tell my husband that he is gross.   And maybe, my children hear this but, honestly, they think that their dad is hilarious.  My daughter screams that “dad is so gross”, but she is laughing so hard that she almost wets her pants.  This is the kind of reaction that just eggs him on; my husband loves to get a rise out of both momma and “mini momma” (as he sometimes calls our daughter).  I only hope that we have not completely screwed up our children yet.  I will try to watch how often I call my husband “gross” in front of the children.  At least, I also say a lot of great things about him!  My husband is smart, strong, determined, caring, and “poops like a goose!”   It’s just like I tell my daughter – “Hey, nobody is perfect!”  But some are grosser than others!