Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Disney Diaries: On the Road. Yes, the Road.

If I ever try to fly again-- which I am doing this summer to go to Vegas for our 10-year anniversary-- I will first of all not bring the kids. Duh. I will also not fly Southwest. That airline is a bunch of bullshit. Ben was so stressed trying to keep a bunch of fat bastards from jumping our rightful place in the boarding line (people turn into fucking animals when they think they don't get the first pick of their shitty fucking seats) that he was totally stressed and when I did my usual holy shit I cannot get in a plane bit, he was like no problem dude and we left. Unfortunately my suitcase went to Orlando. So I  am going on 24 hours in the same underwear, tank top, other tank top, sweater, jeans, scarf, boots, and socks. We are driving through Nashville right now. We spent the night in a gross Louisville Sheraton and hope to hit the park in time  for dinner and fireworks. Kids are still super happy. 20 hours in the car makes me want to jump on a plane. 

I washed my underwear in the hotel sink and blew it dry. My life is so glamorous. 

Before the debacle on the way to the airport

So glad I over packed our carry-ons
 
Thought this double bloody mary would help me fly. Instead it made me hulk out. 
Screens all night. 
 Ugh. 

We added another day at Disney to our trip, so we aren't missing anything, and Harry is super excited to go through Georgia because he has never been there, and we might hit the ocean for a night before we go home. But seriously, I feel like a monster. Who surprises 4 kids with a trip, drags them through airport security, gets in line to get on a plane, and then dashes everyone's hopes and drags them through 7 states in a van that smells like feet?  Worst. Mother. Ever. 

ETA: Southwest just refunded us ALL SIX plane tickets. Forget everything bad I said about them, but remember what I said about the fucking passengers. 

Monday, December 15, 2014

A Very Mickey Hanukkah

Here are Harry and Jack with their screens on Sunday morning (or maybe afternoon-- hard to say because none of us got dressed at all). Look how totally unaware they are of the HUGE SURPRISE that awaits them tomorrow.
What surprise, you ask?

A HANUKKAH TRIP TO DISNEY WORLD!!!

We leave tomorrow!! And our fast passes and meal plans start on 12-17, hence the above shot of my phone countdown app.  Yes, I have a countdown app.  I mean, this is our second Disney trip in 6 months-- we are becoming THOSE people.

But the upshot is, I learned from our last flight and packed 4 really kick ass carry-ons.
By the way, THE KIDS HAVE NO CLUE.  Cannot WAIT to surprise them at the airport.

Saturday, December 13, 2014

2/3 of us rode the Polar Express

 We have had tickets to ride the Polar Express for over a month.  The kids have heard about it at school. We have seen all of our friends ride on Facebook.  We bought the kids coordinating jammies and when I discovered that Cooper's were too small, I took Cooper and Dorothy to the mall to exchange them-- and I NEVER take those 2 to the mall by myself-- NEVER EVER.

Last night, we got everybody dressed as soon as the boys got home from school, loaded up our camera, and raced to the train station for a 4:00 pm departure.

And then Dorothy refused to get on the train.  "Uh-Uh," she said, tightening her legs around my hips. "Bye bye."

Sure, we could have pressed the issue, but first of all, I have a weird phobia about getting on any sort of enclosed moving thing that I am not driving.  Elevators.  Planes.  The monorail at Disney.  The creepy tram from the gate the the baggage claim at the Tampa airport.  And, apparently, trains.  This one was OLD (see the picture down below of the ashtrays in the arm rests), and I figured the doors would probably get stuck and trap us when the thing ran out of power (which has already happened this season-- the power outage, not the trapping).  So I was happy to stay behind with her while the boys chugged away for coca, cookies, and a Santa visit.  As we walked back to the car, she said "Choo-choo," so we went back, but then she balked at the entrance.  The conductor thought we were nuts and assured me she'd have fun when we boarded.  But I didn't want to ride for an hour with her screaming, so we went to Old Navy instead.

Ben and the boys had fun:









 I did sort of freak out about flying on Tuesday, leading Ben to suggest that we eat the cost of our plane tickets and drive instead.  For 2 days.  But then I thought about it, and being in the car with the kids for 2 days seems way worse than being in the sky with them for 2 hours.  So.  I think I can, I think I can.  And if I wake up Tuesday with an I can;t feeling, we'll hop in the car and change our reservations a bit.  No biggie.

And it turns out, we would not have been trapped; Ben and the kids had to exit via the emergency exit which entailed jumping like 4 feet from the train car to the ground because Cooper HAD HAD HAD to pee, and the passengers did not have clearance to disembark yet.

Dorothy also hates elevators, BTW, and she has been saying no uh-huh every time I tell her about our trip.  Apple.  Not far from tree.

She's also a good baking helper.
 Even though they mostly just ate all the chocolate chips.
 At Old Navy.  She's not much of a shopper truth be told.

Thursday, December 11, 2014

Snow celebration and gingnerpeople

 I love reading my blog archives (narcissist much?) because I am always doing the SAME SHIT the same time of year.  My archives assure me that 2 years ago, I was baking my face off, attending Harry's snow celebration, and busting out the Christmas Spode.

SAME THING THIS WEEK.

But, this time,  I have an awesome camera, and my kid was in the front row.  Score.
 Such a little ham.
 He has been practicing his line for weeks.  WEEKS.  And then today, he said it n a funny voice and made everyone laugh.  The only laugh of the show.  Mini-Ben.
 Clearly, he was proud of his work.
 And a little bored.
 Oh, that smile.  He looks just like his baby self.  Peruse Christmas 2008 to see what I mean.
 This kid was a WRECK.  She ran in front of the performers, danced and sang, clapped, went up and down the school stairs.
 Dancing?  Stretching?
 Singing.
 Bowing.
 Posing.
 Jack and girl Jack
 Harry and his friends with first-grade sibs got to attend.  They loved the snack-filled cast party.  Too cool for school.
 VERY SERIOUS ABOUT HER SNACK.
 I made an army of gingerbread people, and they were DELICIOUS.  I sort of had to fit my whole day around cookie baking because the dough had to sit and then I had to bake them and then they needed to cool, and then I had to half-ass decorate them and eat almost half a bag of M&Ms.
 Okay, so this picture is totally misleading  Ben says that Beatrix's ovaries must have been keeping her down because ever since she got spayed, she is INSANE.  She eats EVERYTHING.  Jumps on the furniture.  Pees in our bedroom.  THE WORST.  I want my lazy, lazy, lazy dog back. Her pain pill makes her go crazy, so we cut back on it, but now I feel like she is in pain?  We are giving her half a pill and her anti-inflammatory, but the whole pill makes her hyper as hell.  The vet made a note in her file but was really surprised because she said that drug should knock her out.  Maybe since she is knocked out most of the time it works opposite?  IDK, but she's a pain in my ass.

An amazing discovery.


Tuesday, December 09, 2014

Dorthnado

I have had the busiest day today.  A thousand things to do at work and then another thousand to do at home.  And PTO tonight and decorating an army of ginger people for Jack's snow celebration on Thursday.  Gah.  Oh!  And tomorrow is the department speech contest, the day I work until 11pm every semester.  Gah again.

But let's just take a moment to talk about sweet little Dorthnado.

First of all, she calls herself Dot which is WONDERFUL.

Second, she is digging our library Mondays, but she has 7 (SEVEN) small plush things that she must carry with her at all time, and they make Mondays at the library a pain in my ass.

Two monkeys, a bear, a ballerina bunny, a baby, and two rag dolls she calls mamas.


She brought me these big letters, and we talked about the sounds they made.  She put an M on her monkeys and a B on her babies, and then she put an N on her mamas.  I questioned that choice, and she she looked at me like I was dumb and said "Night night."  Ok then.
 The whole way to the car, she kept dropping various members of her menagerie in the slush and stepping on them.  Then she made a break for the parking lot, and I had to throw all my books on the ground and grab her by the hood.  Then a  really nice chain smoking man walked us to our car and carried all the animals and books.
 And Dorothy enjoyed a caramel truffle at lunch.  I gave one to Cooper, too, and he said "It poop?  Yes.  It poop.  Why mama?"
Basically, when traveling with Dorothy, I have to decide if I want to deal with the ramifications of her doing things exactly how she'd like (so slow! so many dollies! so much darting!) or if I would like to do it my way (quick! uncluttered!  generally safe!) and listen to her scream.  I usually go her way.

Sunday, December 07, 2014

Annual night of debauchery

We went out last night to dinner, drinks, and a neighborhood Christmas party, and I don't think we have been so incredibly drunk since the same party last year.  My liver hurts.

I tore through my closet and all of my junk drawers (I have a lot of them scattered all over the house-- everything is neat on the surface, but if you open a drawer or a door, god help you) to find my little black evening purse, and it was NOWHERE.  I was so annoyed because that meant I had to take my big old mom purse.  But then, when Harry was zipping up my dress, Beatrix became obsessed with the tulle underskirt and tried to eat it and ripped out the hem.  Naturally, I had to duct tape the hem all around the front of my dress, and I was happy to have my huge purse so I could carry the roll and some scissors in case I needed to repair my dress.  I also threw in 12 berry-colored lipsticks and some leggings because we planned to walk home in the freezing cold, and I was bare-legged.

The dress debacle meant we could not get a picture of both of us before we left because we had no child to take it, as the babysitter arrived, the babies lost their shit, and all 4 kids went downstairs.

So we have these.  Also, pretend the laundry room door is closed.

 SUCH a dark restaurant.
 Especially the bathroom. Ew.
 I LOVE how all the party pictures are blurry because I was totally feeling blurry.  So much vodka.  So many selfies on my phone.

 Shortly after these drink-in-my-hand photos, I had to take my damn shoes off because I kept almost falling down.  Because I am the CLASSIEST.
Shortly after we took this picture. we walked home.  About a 10-minute walk.  As we were leaving, a couple we didn't know came into the foyer on their way out and offered to give us a ride, saying they could either move the baby seats or we could "bounce around in the back of the Tahoe."  We declined, and I put my leggings on right there in the entryway in front of those people.  AWESOME.

The whole way home, Ben practice spelling the babysitter's last name because we forgot to get cash and had to write a check.  After she left, he collapsed on the couch SO PROUD that he wrote a check correctly and ate a ton of cold sloppy joe meat straight from its Tupperware with a fork.

I made myself a monster peanut butter sandwich on pumpernickel and drank 2 glasses of water and some milk and watched part of a Parenthood from 2 weeks ago.

I woke up this morning under all my covers in my dress, beaded belt, leggings, and all my jewelry.  My long-wear lipstick was still looking good, and my eyeliner was barely smudged. My sandwich makings were on the counter, and Ben's meat snack was still sitting on the couch.  All the lights were on, and the front door was unlocked. The back of my head hurt so bad-- right at the base of my skull-- that I tried to replay the previous night's happenings, wondering if I fell down or bumped into something, or got hit with a pistol during a convenience store robbery.  But then I remembered the vodka.

Ben left immediately upon waking to retrieve the car and go to an 8-hour hockey coach training session 90-minutes away.  I stayed home with all the kids to make dinner, pack lunches, do laundry, and clean bathrooms.  I am still not sure who had the rougher day.