What you will never see in a commercial for DisneyWorld

1. The delayed flight which brought us into Orlando at 3 am.

2. Mr. & Mrs. KuKu LaRue in line ahead of us at the car rental place arguing with the clerk for 45 minutes over a difference of $15. 



I'll tell you what begins with F - Four a.m. Check-in!

3. Day 1 in the Magic Kingdom fueled by about 6 hours of sleep, crap food and a lifetime of unachievable Disney expectations resulting in Mom sobbing quietly in the Happiest Place on Earth.  Trust me, I was not the only one.  The mom and baby rooms are as much for the distraught moms as for the babies.  Disney is missing a revenue opportunity by not putting vending machines stocked with anti-anxiety medication into those rooms.  (Hmm, today I pick Valium, no, wait, pass the Paxil, please...) It must be illegal or they would have thought of it.

4. Bankruptcy.  I waited for rain and ran around with my mouth open to avoid paying $3 for a bottle of water. 

5.  Boy 2 screaming at PHD, "Why don't you just let Mom drive!!" after we managed to take the wrong exit, again.  I was supposed to be navigating but I didn't correct him. PHD probably deserved to be yelled at for something I didn't yet know about.

6.  PHD wandering off to look at something shiny, Boy 2 running the opposite way to follow something spinny and Boy 1 running in another direction altogether in a panicked, misdirected effort to chase his dad.  That prompted the "Dad's the leader, stick to him" game.  I could then keep all three in sight and bellow, "Where's the leader?" if one of them so much as twitched in a different direction. 

Well, maybe it is just the MacFuddles you will never see in the commercial, because DisneyWorld really is as magical as you think it will be!  This was what Boy 2 wrote in his own blog before we left:

 

i am going to disny world in six weeks and we are going to ride a rollercoster and we are going swiming at the  hotell cus there is a swimming pool at the hotell it will be fun we will eat popcorn and lolypops and we will jump on the bed

I think we can even do better than that!

We started with the Magic Kingdom.  You don't feel like you are at DisneyWorld until you see the castle!

 



Note the matching bright yellow eye- catching shirts - to go with
ID tags in their pockets and strict instructions to only
talk to park staff if lost!

Dad, the parade is that way, not by those pretty girls

I told you Mom was looking.

Boy 2 is a little overstimulated

  Matching bright orange and red for Animal Kingdom

 

Nothing better than a box of bugs

 Unless it's birds with bums on their fronts, as Boy 1 pointed out

Awww

 Stitch is Boy 2's favorite new character since we went on
the Stitch ride and Stitch belched on us



After "The Lion King" which was amazing, by the way!



Boy 2 not feeling it - profile shots only please



Boy 1 now wants to be a Blue Man when he grows up

There was a whole bunch of other stuff in those 10 days, it's kind of a blur, now.  The whole vacation culminated in a beautiful cloud of fireworks, light parade and pure exhaustion.

One more freakin' smile -  we are in the

happiest place on earth

for crying out loud!

It takes a village

I had to go out of town for work yesterday.  Just a day trip but it meant I had to leave early and come home after 7.  This also means that PHD had to:

1. get the kids to school

2. meet them after school, (don't forget thursday is early dismissal) and

3. take Boy 1 to tennis lessons at 5:30. 

Can anyone guess how many of these things happened?  I will give you a hint - not three of them and not even two of them.  I wouldn't give him such a hard time over this except the night before when I started listing how the day should go without me here to initiate every activity, he got really short with me, "I know, you told me, I can handle it, you know."  So this blog, which has the sole purpose of heckling him, is his own fault.

Anyway, I got home a bit early so I thought I would drive by tennis and see how it was going.  No one there.  Hmm, must have missed tennis.  I get to the house and PHD is all alone.  Good God, did he lose both of them this time?  "Where are the kids?"  "Oh, they are playing at the neighbors' house down the street.  The mom invited them for supper."  We have known these people for 10 years, at least, and he still calls them the people down the street, and the mom down the street, along with a thumb point in a southern direction.  Anyway, "the mom down the street" knew I was away today and was looking out for the boys, thankfully!  So I say, "so you decided to skip tennis, then".  Blank look. "I thought that was at 7."  No big deal, people forget stuff all the time.  I forgot to take them to soccer a couple of weeks ago.  The tooth fairy forgot to come two nights in a row and she's magic, so it can happen to anyone.  

PHD starts telling me how the day went.  The boys wanted to ride their bikes to school so they took off on their bikes and when PHD tried to follow them the pedal fell off his bike.  He was already way behind them and jumped on my bike to catch up.  By the time he reached the school, they were already in.  He had to chase them down because they had talked him into carrying their lunches.  Only there was a BBQ lunch at school that day so he didn't even have to pack a lunch.  I could have let it go but I didn't. I wanted to get to his sheepish look quickly. (Ahh, there it is.  Sooner than I expected.)  Then, he says, "I was pretty stressed because I went to Staples and got stuck in traffic so I was worried I would be home late.  I wasn't late but our two and the two from down the street and the mom (southern thumb point) were all standing on the doorstep.  She said she would take them all to her house."  (I didn't even say anything about the trip to Staples.  Pretty generous-of-spirit of me as he isn't allowed to go there due to an unexplainable addiction to office organizers.  I do try to be kind.) I said "It's early dissmissal today. Maybe you were late?"  "Oh.  right. What time do they get out?"  Doesn't matter.  We'll have to reteach you in September, anyway.  Or maybe I will start a little homeschooling in August, for PHD.  Or not - it seems a little ambitious for me.

So, as you can see, the MacFuddles do need a village to raise their children.  Thank you "mom down the street", who miraculously seems to always know where her kids are, and mine. 

I now need to go google "How to make cool father's day presents out of a file organizer." Ideas are gratefully accepted...

Extreme Makeover

You may or may not have noticed that I haven't posted in a while - we were so busy for the last month or so, we didn't even have time to get the boys haircuts.  That, and they were both trying to grow their hair out.  Not like Justin Beiber, he's dumb.  More like Ron in Harry Potter, he's so not dumb.  I guess.  After the first outdoor swim of the year, Boy 2 declared, "I need a haircut.  My sidebangs are poking in my ears.  I don't like it."




I kind of like the Ace Ventura side sweep


Concerned he might take matters into his own hands, I got him to the hairdresser immediately.  Never one to do things half way, he declared to the stylist, "I need a buzzcut".  Five minutes later, here he is:



Now you can see the nice bruise down the middle of his forehead

 When Boy 1 came in the house with his newly shorn brother, PHD wanted to know who new kid was.  I made fun of PHD for a while then an hour later lost Boy 2 on the soccer field.  I was looking right at him, I just didn't recognize him.  You would think "sidebangs" were poking me between the ears.  Something's not working right.

The Perfect Race

So, it was a really long winter and we got a bit loopy at the MacFuddle house. 

WARNING! If this post begins to seem strange/obsessive or plain boring, feel free to skip. As background, you should know that I belong to the best running group, possibly in the world, but definitely in this city, called "I Beg Your Garmin".  There are six of us with what I mentally call "Gold Status" as we have been running together consistently for almost two years, now. I use the term running loosely because as much as we run together we also gab together, travel together, do girly stuff together, etc.  I haven't cleared the "Gold Status" concept with the group so it is subject to heated debate, and change, if we don't get distracted by something else shinier.  We have other, newer members of "I Beg Your Garmin" who are terrific, too, and I promise to make something special for them when they reach "Gold Status". (Some of these ladies successfully completed another either 5K or half-marathon last Saturday and deserve some recognition so here you go: woot woot!)  For now, to the special "Gold Status" members of "I Beg Your Garmin", this post will eventually, unbelievably, circle back to you. There is a possibility you will be glad you suffered through. Everyone else has my permission to pretend to not see this post and I will never mention it again. 

So, the day PHD and I launched into a diorama discussion (Yes that is a TV in my hallway) and I had to Google dioramas to show him, I started obsessing over dioramas and minatures.   Not old-guy-creating-trainsets type minatures, these are cute ones! I have seen them called them "Art Boxes".  I think that is a better description and it doesn't seem so silly if I call them Art.  I created a display of Art Boxes in my hallway:

I had to crop the photo tightly so you couldn't see all the fingerprints all over my walls...

The Art Box in the centre is called "Magnets" to represent this post: I wouldn't lick that if i were you .  It may be hard to tell from this picture but the little guy is leaning against the monkey bars, with his tongue.

I call the bottom Art Box "Terry Fox" to represent the post QCM Race Report:

Meanwhile, Boy 2 was entertaining himself by building a square turtle on a pile of rocks,



 trying to determine how many shirts he can wear at once.



The answer is 5

 and catching a few rays.

Yes, that is snow in the background

PHD and Boy 1 went a different way...

Can you tell what they are trying to do?  Can you tell me?

While they were doing whatever that was, I made the Art Box on the top of the collection.  Here is the part where it may (or may not) get interesting for my running friends. The art box on the top of my collection (in the bad picture at the beginning of this post) is called "The Perfect Race". 

The picture doesn't do it justice but each one of the little people looks like one of the ladies in our group, Michelle, me, Maryann, Cindy, Margaret and Leanne.  I imagine the little members of "I Beg Your Garmin" running their perfect little race saying things like, "Training Works!",  "Surely she sees that pylon", "I'm not cold, do you think I have too many layers on?", "What a beautiful day!", "Can we go farther?" and "I didn't cry once!!". Then after at least one of them gets a medal, doesn't matter who, they all stop to talk and laugh.  See? The Perfect Race. 

So, we have learned two things today - spring needs to stay or I am in danger of losing my mind and I need a new camera along with some photography lessons, quickly!

This Monday is sponsored by adrenaline

In January, I tried to set up a nice little routine for Monday evenings.  I go to a community association boot camp at the school then PHD brings the kids an hour later and the kids attend a Fit Kids class while we do yoga. I think it worked out that way twice since January.  Usually PHD has some type of injury, somebody's sick or some type of disaster has taken place which prevents this little routine from working out. 

Today's disaster began when I left for bootcamp understanding that PHD would bring the boys for Fit Kids at 7.  Just before 7, I see Boy 1 stroll in with his ripstick.  I see PHD casually stroll in, wave, look around then leave.  By the time he was far enough away that he thought I couldn't see him, he started walking quicker.  Here's a tip - if you are trying to be sneaky don't wear a yellow sweatshirt.  I say to my neighbor, "Hmm, I bet PHD has lost Boy 2."  It's like I have ESP or something. I go to the Fit Kids class and ask Boy 1 where his brother is.  "I dunno, Dad can't find him."  Dad can't find him.  Seems like something you should tell your wife.  I get a few more details from Boy 1.  I think he is with his little buddy, let's call him Norm.  I am not sure where Norm lives or his last name. Off to a great start.  I hop in the car and drive home.  PHD's truck is parked in the middle of the street and PHD is pacing up and down the street cursing.  We are classy like that.  He yelled the story at me, it made no sense.  But, it seems Boy 2 was home since the last time PHD left because he left his blue bike on the step as a clue and his old red bike is missing. This is like a cartoon.  Probably the Simpsons. Everytime the truck leaves and turns the corner, the kid on the bike returns. Kid leaves, truck returns. Maybe this will be hilarious some other day.  Not today.

I send PHD down the street to start knocking on doors.  I roll my window down and start yelling at people on the street, "If you see a kid in a red helmet, send him home!"  I caught a canvasser, a jogger, another mother I know and a teenager that ran in his house and probably locked the door after talking to the crazy lady burning up and down the street, yelling out her window.  After knocking on a few doors we figure out that Norm lives in the apartment building down the street.  I tell PHD, "If we don't find him there, I am calling the police."  For once he doesn't tell me I am overreacting.  When we get to the apartment building we see a red bike on the step, and one of Boy 2's friends coming out of the building.  I got his friend to lead me back into the building to the apartment where Boy 2 is playing.  I note that Boy 2 has left his boots at the front door of the apartment building.  It occurs to me that he has probably never been to an apartment so he thinks this is the front door.  Very polite of him to take his boots off.  Anyway, of course we find Boy 2 at Norm's house right where he thinks he is supposed to be. He says he told Dad where he was going. 

After we were all back home and over the adrenaline rush, somewhat, my mom called and offered to take the kids for a few days over Easter.  I tried to send PHD too.  She kept changing the subject.  I don't think she's taking him.  I don't think he's safe here, either.  But, then, as I type this I think maybe we just have a communication problem.  I only said, "I'm leaving, see you there."  I didn't ever explicitly say, "You are now responsible to keep track of the children" to PHD.  Or maybe, "I am leaving 2 kids, please have 2 kids here when I return."  I could have phoned during water break at bootcamp and said, "Quick head count, how many kids do you have there?"

So, probably all my fault.  Either way, I am going to have wine now.

Sharing

Yesterday, Boy 2 was resisting sharing his treat with his brother because as he says, "He never shares with me."  So I think, this is a good teachable moment, "Well, this is an opportunity for you to set a good example for him.  Maybe if you you share with him, he will see how nice it was and share with you next time."  Boy 1 says, "That's right, and that's why sharing is selfish."  

Do you think he missed the point?  Or maybe he's right?

Art Day at the House of Insanity

Sunday was Art Day at our house.  Boy 2 got really excited telling me, "Remember the time I got my hair cut and I kept the hair in an envelope?  I'm going to use that to make a pool. Can I use one of your frames?"   I told him he was wonderfully creative then  forgot about it, thinking it was chatter in the same category as, "What if we pooped out party hats then wore them?" or "What if the yard was made of cake?  Would we say, 'Yuck that tastes like cake'?"   

Next thing I know, Boy 2 comes into the kitchen with his bangs missing.  He wanted more hair, for his pool, I guess, I didn't think to ask. (As I type this, it strikes me that this may be a bit weird.  Do other kids cut off their own hair for art projects?)  Anywho, when I realized his bangs were missing, naturally, I said,  "What scissors did you use?"  Not sure why that was important, just making conversation, I guess.  He said he used the nail scissors in the bathroom closet.  So I told him, "Dad uses those to cut his nose hairs, you know." PHD got really offended, "I do not!" So I told PHD, in my best stage whisper, as though the child lost his hearing along with his bangs, "Shh, I am trying to gross him out.  I don't want him doing that anymore."  That's all I got.  I have nothing else in my parenting bag of tricks to try to keep my child from cutting his own hair off.  

I think Boy 2 sensed he had beaten me to the point of utter insanity and felt sorry for me so he made this for me:

I said, "Oh, I love it! It's like the little man is falling in love!"  Boy 1 said, "That's very symbolic."  Yes, it is symbolic.  I don't think I understood the concept of symbolism until my first year of university.  They are both geniuses!! Sometimes brilliance looks a bit crazy...Maybe it is a house of genius, not insanity!