Eleven days in Florida, many of them spent at the House of Mouse, have left my brain a bit fried. But, let me share with you my single-most favorite photo from the trip:
Rebel Without a Cause
October 28, 2008
FollowSomebody Slip Me a Mickey
October 23, 2008
Three clues:
1. It’s a world of laughter, a world of tears. . .
2. My feet hurt. . .
3. My 4yo, D, wants to go back home to Mattatutetts.
Yes, we are about halfway through our “vacation” in Walt Disney World, the one place where there is no energy crisis or mention of recycling, the food is always “fast”, and able-bodied people riding in scooters seems perfectly logical.
All of us (except D) are having fun, although all this “it’s about the children all the time” stuff is making me twitch. This may sound odd considering I’m with my kids an awful lot when we’re home, but these close quarters and the pack mentality is a bit challenging.
Tonight I take the girls alone to Mickey’s Not So Scary Halloween Party. I will be dressed as The Old Hag which considering how tired my body and mind feels, sounds about right.
Damn the 90’s
October 16, 2008
File this under: Maybe this is her second life?
Belly, my oldest at all of 7 1/2, was describing her dance class today in her usual animated fashion.
Apparently, they are trying to decide the “theme” for this year’s highly anticipated dance recital (all snarkiness intended). There were three options.
Her favorite was the “Kids Under Cover” theme which would allow her to wear a black hat tipped over one eye, all “spy-like”. I wanted to tell her that no self-respecting spy would creep around with a hat tipped over one eye, but held my tongue.
The other favorite was some sort of “Parasol Stroll”. She liked this option because it had a great prop—the parasol, which would surely take out the eye of at least one girl in class before the recital. Yawn.
The last option? She didn’t like it one bit. The name was “Freeze Frame” and involved what sounded to me like voguing, but she insisted that wasn’t right after she watched me demonstrate my stellar voguing moves.
“No mom, not like that! Like this. . .” and she proceeded to do a great Robot dance.
“Oh! The Robot!” I answered with enthusiasm.
“Yeah”, she signed disgustedly and then tossed her hair, “it’s like SO 1990’s”.
