Found this draft and thought I’d post, although it’s a little tardy.
Took the kids to see Wall-E and there was some good and some bad. The good part was that the kids wolfed down a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a bag of carrot sticks by the close of the previews. Then, we lasted about 20 minutes into Wall-E before the kids looked at me pleadingly and asked to leave.
In my opinion, the lack of dialogue and effort one must put in to follow the nuances of the robots’ “body language” was just too tough for toddlers. I wasn’t entirely surprised, and knew it had been a gamble. Luckily, the theater I went to gave me three rain check coupons so we could try again with a different movie. And, of course we will. They have a movie goober for a mom.
Just returned back from a week’s vacation in sunny (and half the time rainy) Orlando to take the kids to Disneyworld. I think I returned more exhausted than when I left. However, it’s an “I’ve never seen my kids this exhilarated” type of exhaustion rather than a “case of the Mondays” type of exhaustion that comes around after individuals pass their vacation deprivation threshold (I have a low one).
Highlights
~ Who knew my daughter was so in love with Goofy? It’s the cutest when my son (who at this point <3s everything my daughter does) yells “Ooofy! Ooofy!”
~ Watching my son fearlessly cannonball into his dads arms in the pool at the resort time and time again. Keep in mind he turned two the day after we got back. He’s a crazy lad.
~ Seeing my daughter barrel down a 40 ft tall water slide with perma-grin – and her dad (hey, no need for Social Services, I am no Britney!).
~ Wearing sundresses and shorts every day for a week.
~ Watching my kids spend quality time with their grandparents, and the genuine joy they bring to each other. Yes, Velveeta comment but true.
~ Hearing the story that my daughter told my sister that her shoes were ugly.
~ The Expedition Everest roller coaster at Animal Kingdom. Ask to go in the front car. If you like Space Mountain, but want even a bit more extreme, go for it. My dad howled with delight the whole ride and I swallowed two bugs.
~ There is nothing like returning home to your own bed.
The Hmmms…
~ We had a two bedroom “flat” for me, my husband, our two kids, my sister and my parents. I was no math major but those numbers don’t add up right for me. Now, peanut gallery, be kind – I know my folks (who sported the pad for us free of charge) will probably read this post!
~ How does a three year old have the energy to go-go-go from 6 am to 10 pm every night? Cinderella adrenaline fixes? Dumbo rush?
~ I believe it’s stupid that you have to ask a flight attendant for a barf bag. Obviously, in that circumstance, it’s already too late. To shout out the obvious consequence, my husband and I spent the ~4 hour flight and then the 1+ hour layover in SLC and the remaining 50 minute flight back to ID covered in our son’s barf.
~ My daughter thought for several days after our return that her new bedtime was 10 pm. WRONG.
~ I had grand ambitions of coming back w a tan. It rained at some point almost every day and I am just as pasty as when I left. Dammit.
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