She Points Her Pretty Toes

Every Saturday (or some Saturdays, if we're being honest), Gigi  finds her spot on the floor of the general purpose room at the Parks Department. She waves her hands in the air and counts one, two, three, four, five. And, she waits patiently while every little ballerina tells the teacher her favorite color. Spoiler alert: it's pink. Or purple.

Fifteen minutes later, Gigi finally gets to point her pretty toes. She loves to spin. She loves to tap. She loves to stretch, bend, twirl, and curtsey. The little girl who has made tooting a dinner sport is completely in love with dance.

It's the shoes mostly. She does love an excuse for extra shoes.

We pay a pretty penny for her to point her pretty toes. But, at the end of the lessons comes the big reward--for parents and performers alike--The Recital. Twenty-five minutes of on-stage excitement.  "G," I told her as I fixed her hair, "I hope you dance. I'd hate to go through this just to see you stand still on stage."

Mark Sanders and Tia Sillers wrote it better than I ever could, "I hope you never lose your sense of wonder…And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance, I hope you dance."

She danced.

The butterflies in her tummy nearly stole her thunder, but "they all flew away and turned to excitement." And she danced. It was worth every pretty penny.

Got Day? Go Time: Another Year of Grateful

My purse slid off the passenger seat yesterday morning as I piloted the Swagger Wagon into the parking lot at work. My purse was unzipped. Of course it was. I heard the quarters roll under the passenger seat and the phone knocking against the console, no doubt on its way to nestle snugly in the crack, just out of reach, requiring me to scrape my knuckles to dig it out. I grumbled as I stretched across the Swagger Wagon to collect my things, and I carelessly scooped everything back into the bag.

It’s almost Thanksgiving. I haven’t posted 25 days of gratitude. Christmas teddy bears are mingling with the pilgrim bear and ceramic turkey in the dining room. I'm trying to get a jump on decorating, and frankly, I think the pilgrim and the turkey looked lonely. It’s not that I don’t feel grateful. I do. But, my Facebook "words of the year" are "Go, day, got, time." Go day, got time? Got day, go time? No matter how you arrange them, they tell the story of my life. In one word? Busy.

My purse tells the story pretty well too:

I’m grateful for pink and purple hair bows that remind me of a fluttering fairy princess preschooler who loves her teachers and her mommy too. I’m grateful that she has enough hair to pull into a ponytail and that she wants to wear a ponytail just like me.

I’m grateful for a Batman whistle that reminds me of a million weekend birthday parties—parties for the good friends of a kind hearted first grader who loves them. I’m grateful he has friends and that he wants to go to a million birthday parties to celebrate their special moments.

I’m grateful for happy meal toys that remind me of a Sunday afternoon mommy date. I’m grateful for French fries too. They’re delicious.

I’m grateful for tiny pink ballet slippers that remind me that I am loved. They were my slippers. Real Capezios, saved for 35 years in the hope that another little blonde would wear them and love them. She does.

I’m grateful for oranges and runner chow that remind me that I’m not old yet. I can run. I can swim. I can stretch. And I can bounce for hours on a trampoline with a kind hearted first grader and a fluttering fairy princess preschooler.

I’m grateful for real, vintage handkerchiefs to wipe runny noses and clean glasses that saw a rainstorm. I’m grateful for the glasses and the rainstorm too.

I’m grateful for fancy business card cases, because, well, sparkles!  I’m more grateful for the business cards inside it, because they remind me that I have a good job in good company at a good company .

I’m grateful for the three ketchup packets that I’m apparently carrying every day, because they remind me that I can feed my family food that they like whenever they like. That’s a privilege that so many don’t have right now.

I’m grateful for wet wipes because they remind me that I have the means to take care of sore bottoms. I’m more grateful that I don’t have to wipe sore bottoms all that often any more. Potty training is a blessing.

I’m grateful for lip gloss, nail polish, and hair clips because some days, they make me feel pretty or important or more like a grown up woman than a teenage girl, or on the better days, more like a teenage girl than like a grown up woman.  There’s value in self-esteem that goes far deeper than lip gloss and hair clips.

I sighed and grumbled as I gathered my scattered things. I scraped my knuckles digging my phone from the cavern between the seats. And tonight, I'm grateful for all of those things and so much more:

Happy Thanksgiving! 

Capturing the Magic: Family Vacation

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away,

three princesses and two princes parked their Pacific blue chariot and set out to capture the magic.

The castle walls rose high into the Florida sky and were every bit as magical as I remembered. Except of course, for the construction zones. Plastic sheeting printed with castle windows disguised just enough to keep the magic in tact, and the imagineers managed to seamlessly route traffic just well enough that unless a posse of scooter riders blocked the intersections, it was possible to make it from Cinderella's backyard to the main gates in less than 30 minutes. 

This wasn't our first rodeo.

But, it was magical all the same, thanks to careful planning and a few adult beverages along the way.

We dressed for comfort and potty breaks. Because even a plane powered by sparkle fairy dust lands at an ordinary airport with ordinary auto-flushers. Moms, bring stickers or post-its to block the sensors. Or don't. If you're building your immune system, there's no better high intensity training than manually blocking each and every potty sensor between Oklahoma and Orlando. Every single one. 

Flying never gets old. Window seats are the best in flight entertainment, although a few pre-planned princess movies worked pretty well too. 

And when the day gets really long? Vacation mom returns with the power of selfies!

Thanks to our dear friends, we captured the magic of condo living this time. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen and room to color made for a comfortable week. At this point, neither child has any idea we're headed to that most magical place of all.

Because we started the week with a day of rest. Mini golf, naps, and grocery shopping. We stayed at Orange Lake where the grocery stores are stocked (Publix and Super Target), and the pharmacy is just across the way if you happen to need late night supplies (CVS). And, even with all of that convenience, the drive to the parks was only 10 minutes each morning, including entry into the Wally World parking lots. Fortunately for us, the parks weren't closed; but, parking will run you $20 a day. But, this is the most magical place on earth, so $20 also gets you a tram ride and your choice of ferry boat or monorail to the Magic Kingdom. 

Wonder Woman hit a hole in one!

And, Gigi tolerated a lesson or two before chasing her pink ball up and down the sidewalk. You know what steals part of little girl's soul? Hole number 18. Hole number 18 steals part of a little girl's soul when it takes the pink golf ball back to the caddy shack. 

Only Minnie Mouse and ruffles can make it better. She still doesn't know she's going to meet princesses.

This is what we call being an Edmond kid. 

This too. 

We swam.

Conquered the water slides at the resort (which had at least three pools, two mini-golf courses, and two alligators in the fishing pond). 

We found our own fun bowling for cups. 

And made peace with the deep water pool when the family pool was shut down due to an incident. Poop. The incident was poop. It happens. 

We did not make peace with bedtime. 

And of course,

We captured magic.

You have a choice when traveling to the Magic Kingdom: train or boat. Take the boat. For the love of goodness, take the boat. It's open-air. You can see the castle. You see the space on either side of me? Where there are no people touching me? This was the last time that happened for 10 hours. A day at the Magic Kingdom will help you appreciate the magic of hand sanitizer. Or, arm sanitizer. Or, wherever you feel the need to put it sanitizer. I took individually wrapped anti-bacterial wipes. Spoiler alert: still got sick. Take the boat. Unless your little boy wants to ride the rocket train. Then, gird your loins, flip the cap on the sanitizer, and heed the call, "All aboard!" 

We met so many princesses. Because Fast Pass. Seriously. You can tell yourself that the magic is in you. Or, that the magic is in finding the extraordinary in the ordinary. The truth? The magic has been captured, and it resides in the Fast Pass. 

Cinderella has a pet cat named Lucifer. He's hateful, and Gigi is scared of him. She is so scared, in fact, that she nearly refused the magical Fast Pass for fear of meeting him in the castle hallways. You know where Lucifer is? He stays in the pet hotel near the entrance. You want to know why? (Because Gigi did, and that is why we find ourselves in this predicament.). Lucifer stays outside the castle gates in the pet hotel because he pooped on Cinderella's rug. And that is why we spent two days in line to meet six princesses and inspected every rug along the way for the cat poop stains. It's magical I tell you. 

It really kind of is. We managed last minute princess breakfast reservations in Norway at Epcot. The food was actually good--family style bacon and sausage (because Disney is magic, and red meat isn't carcinogenic there), eggs, fruit, pastries, and magical cheesy potatoes. The food should be good; it cost more than a 5 star restaurant. 

But, hugs from Cinderella? Priceless.

And dancing with Cinderella? Indescribable. 

RJ is nearing the age where princesses might be pretty girls in costume, and they might, just maybe, be real. Either way, they're really pretty. When asked if he wanted to tag along to the princess breakfast, he asked, "Will Anna and Elsa be there?" "I bet they're really pretty. Yes, I'll go!" 

Anna and Elsa were not at the princess breakfast, in case you're wondering. They reside inside the castle only; get your Fast Pass early, because the wait is long. 

But, Ariel was there. 

And so was Sleeping Beauty. 

Grandma celebrated 65 years with a magical cake. 

Here's hoping her dreams really do come true. 

And, one special princess hosted the breakfast. 

On our morning, it was Belle. 

I found Belle to be much more charming at breakfast than I did during her story time at the Magic Kingdom. If the line says 20 minutes, it's a lie. And you will be forced to watch 25 children who you will never see again re-enact the life of Belle and the Beast after 10 minutes of rehearsal with a young man of questionable orientation. It's like the worst dance recital combined with the worst school play ever, and Belle doesn't even show up until the very end. Belle, you *itch; I could have been eating a Mickey bar. 

We ate a Mickey Bar too. 

And we saw so many princesses. 

He knows she's not really a fish.

But he'll take the hug anyway. 

I think Gigi was jealous of her hair.

"Mommy," Gigi asked me, "Where is her bedroom? Is it upstairs in the castle?"

She's RJ's favorite. He told me so. 

It's Disney for goodness sake. Could we not find a real blonde to be Elsa? I mean, I hate to be that mom, but even the four year old was unimpressed. Cinderella had real glass slippers, but the imagineers can't find a real blonde? I know, I know, I really should let it go. 

Anna, on the other hand? Amazing. 

100% in character the entire time. 

Gigi was smitten. 

We met Harry Poppins right when we first arrived. She's Gigi's favorite, right after Harry Potter and Mary Poppins. 

Don't let the look fool you; she had been asking to ride Cinderella's carousel ever since she learned about it the month before we left on the trip. She was ever so curious, though, as to why Cinderella's backyard was so crowded. 

Vacation mom loves vacation selfies.

It's a Small World has short lines and isn't scary. It's a great starter ride for little ones. 

And older ones too. 

The go carts are still his favorite ride. 

Sister had a pretty good time too. 

Late comer dining reservations are a thing. Download the Disney App; you won't regret it. We ate at Tony's on Main Street. The food is edible; it's indoors; and if memory serves, the potties aren't auto flushers. 

Dumbo is silly, not scary, and totally worth the wait. They've added a play area inside the line; ditto for Pooh's ride. The line is part of the fun, especially the touch screens--see above regarding body sanitizer. 

Goofy's Barnstormer is a real-deal roller coaster, just long enough to make you think you might puke, but not long enough to actually put you over the top. 

If you get motion sick, do not let the four year old control the teacup. But, if you do get motion sickness, you can ride the teacups; they're controllable and don't spin fast unless you ask them to. 

The wait? 45 minutes. The conundrum? The kid needed to go number 2 just as we stepped up to the cart. The decision? Ride. Worth it? Absolutely. The Seven Dwarves Mine Train is a "roller coaster type ride." This is different than a "roller coaster." It dips and swerves. It makes you scream and hang onto your hat. It does not take you upside down or make you sick. It will be the one thing a seven year old boy talks about for weeks after vacation. 

Grandma is serious on Buzz Lightyear's Space Ranger Spin. She outscored us all. 

This is the perfect ride for little boys. And grandmas. 

Not so much for little ones with sensitive eyes. 

Of course, mom wasn't quite so protective. 

Four times. That is approximately how many times we rode this ride. Download the app. Watch the wait times. Fast Pass. You can do it!

Sigh. He tolerates his mother. His first real haircut was at Disney when he was four. He's bigger and smarter, but he still loves his mommy. 

Legend has it that the sword lifts from the stone for the hero of Fantasyland, and the legend is true. Unfortunately, it was true for a little girl from Ohio, not these two. But, the little show was worth the standing time. Most of the shows are, and Mickey's Philharmonic is a pleasant break from the hoards. 

I loved Epcot when I was 13. I love Epcot now at age 29 (ahem). 

Here's a secret: Epcot is a break for the grown-ups. Sure, it's crowded, but the music is soothing, and most of the rides are air conditioned and slower moving. They still show Michael Jackson's Captain Eo, and the concession stands serve real food. Even the shops in the World Showcase are built to create space and time for grown-ups; they have free coloring stations staffed by delightful international students who seem to genuinely want to listen to your child's chirpy rendition of Cinderella's songs.

I earned this cocktail by jogging through Morocco three times with Gigi in my arms because she had issues. After the third adventure with the auto flusher, a fellow Disney explorer tapped my arm, "You're a good mom." Thanks, stranger. I needed that. And a cocktail. 

We visited coincidentally during the Epcot Food and Wine Festival. I intend to return someday without the little ones to enjoy a day of good food and wine. There was a tremendous selection, and during the day, the crowds were passable, though I did hear that they were unbearable after dark.

Someday she'll be standing in front of a map of the underground in London, ready to take on the world. 

Dinner with the grandmas is a rare treat. "This is my third favorite restaurant," RJ told us, "after Enrique's and Alvarado's." He's a hometown boy. 

She's too little for the Test Track, but the practice car was just her speed. There's a good spot to hang out and dance on the plaza just outside the Test Track and a family potty nearby. Potties are important. I saw every single one. 

We built an awesome car. 

But dad's had bigger tires. 

"Oh!" RJ exclaimed, somewhat stunned after the ride, "I want one of these when I grow up!" Me too, buddy, me too. 

The Test Track was the best ride I've ridden. But I have a not-so-secret affection for fast cars, and while I love the Swagger Wagon, it rarely satisfies my need for speed. Speaking of cars, don't go to the Magic Kingdom or Epcot looking for Lightening McQueen. He's not there. Last I've heard, he lives a somewhat stoic life at Hollywood Studios. The Test Track made up for it. The real magic of the Test Track? Fast Pass. It's the only way. 

We braved Mickey's Not-So-Scary Halloween party--Cinderella and her fairy godmother. 

They say it's not-so-scary. They say the park is less crowded and tickets are limited. I'd like to talk to them.  In my world, scary includes ghosts, green monsters, thunderstorms, witches, and dancing corpses. Lesson learned. Mickey Mouse is braver than I am. 

There were ghosts, green monsters, thunderstorms, witches, and dancing corpses. The Halloween parade included the sights, sounds, and smells of Halloween. And, while the sugary sweet scent of cotton candy nearly overcame the terror of dancing corpses, the dank cold air from the Haunted Mansion float was nearly my undoing.  Daddy gets the credit for declaring the grave diggers as chimney sweeps, preserving the children's innocence for one more year at least. 

You know what takes away the scary? Suckers. 

This. This is where I spent my fall vacation. Not all of it, because there were princesses and rides and candy, oh my! We waited 30 minutes in line for Peter Pan's Flight. I'd love to review it for you, but as we rounded the final bend in the carefully decorated claustrophobic halls, Gigi announced, "I need to go potty!" And away we shoved back through the line. This photo was taken moments after she announced, "Guess my body played a trick on me! I don't need to go now." 

Gigi made a new friend. 

Sweet Marie is her new bestie.

Memories were made.

 Magic was captured. 

The dirt: 

I splurged on the Memory Maker option for photos and traveled without a real camera. It was worth it to get real family photos taken by someone who could get my kids to smile and to not deal with a camera the entire trip. 

There's a little kiosk on the right side of Main Street as you walk in. They'll draw your portrait or cut silhouettes. The silhouettes are 2 framed for about $25 and make a personal, Made-in-the-USA souvenir. It only takes about 10 minutes, and they'll hold your purchase if you prefer. 

I bought a magic band, which comes free if you stay on site. It was about $20 and allowed the ride cameras to automatically link photos to my Memory Maker account. It wasn't really worth the purchase, but if you stay on site, it works as a room key and is "free." 

It's crowded, even when it's not crowded. Schedule some time to decompress away from the parks. You won't regret it. 

Download the app. It's possible to get in-park last minute dining reservations, and if you watch the wait times, you can nearly seamlessly flow through the parks. 

Resist the urge to do it all. It may be the trip of the lifetime, but it won't be if you're stressed or worried. Pick and choose. And bring sanitizer.