Disney Adventures: Part I

Thursday, June 25, 2015

I've been on a bit of blogging hiatus for 2 reasons:
1. My pre-Disney trip anxiety.
2. My post-Disney trip recovery.
We had a pretty great trip, I must say. It was short (5 days, 4 nights), it was hot, it was expensive, but we had such a good time with our family. I've had so many people say to me "Why are you taking him so young? He'll never remember it!" Well, they're probably right. But being able to go together with Lucca's cousins who are so much older than him, this was the time to do it. And no, he won't remember it. But Greg and I will never forget the look of absolute joy and excitement when he got to dance and hug Mickey and all of his friends. If anything, this trip was for us. So what? 
We have been back for five days now, and he keeps asking me "Mommy, we go back castle?" Right now, he remembers. He looks at his stuffed Mickey Mouse like that guy is about to get up and start dancing around. 
But before the trip even started, I was so nervous about taking him on the airplane. I'll be honest, I've always had sympathy for parents with crabby kids on planes. Sure, kids can be jerks. But don't you feel bad for the parent who has to endure the whiny,  seat-kicking, tantrum-throwing, loud child for 2+ hours? All while taking the heat from hateful stares and under-the-breath comments from people sitting around them? I mean, damn. That's tough. They deserve a cocktail, not unsolicited advice about what to do to make them stop crying.

I wasn't so much worried about what Lucca was going to do on the airplane. I was more worried about how I could handle it. Would I be irritated? Would I be embarrassed? Would I want to punch someone in the face? I wasn't sure how things were gonna go down. I wanted to prepare myself for the absolute worse-case scenarios that could ever happen when flying with a toddler.

In the end, I feel like I worked myself up for nothing. We strolled through the airport like a breeze. We let him run around in and out of people's legs through the airport to tire him out. We fed him a gazillion snacks and brought out an arsenal of cheap, new toys for him to keep himself busy. we loaded the iPad with new shows. (I did a lot of blog-type research for flying with toddlers. I was NOT going to go in blind for this adventure!)

The only time he went buck-wild was the last twenty minutes of our return flight. It was the longest 20 minutes of our lives. He was done, he was over it, and just as I handed him an applesauce pouch to eat to help him with his ears popping, he grabbed it and started flinging it around. Applesauce went flying and covered my face and the window. Thank God we were sitting on the inside seat, otherwise I don't think anybody sitting next to us would have really appreciated that.

We made it, we survived, we had a wonderful time and now we're still in recovery mode. I'll post later about our Disney adventure, and how even though Lucca is almost two years old, this kid had a pretty kick-ass time. In fact, I'm feeling pretty inadequate as a mother not being able to entertain him with his favorite Disney characters during dinner time. He's gonna need to get over that...

So Long Sweet Pool Days

Thursday, June 4, 2015

The smell of coconut sunscreen. A cute new bikini. Piles of magazines or a quick-read summer book. An iTunes playlist specifically made for beach or pool sessions. Some food and drinks to snack and sip on while you enjoy laying out under the sun's rays and taking an occasional dip in the water.

Gone are those blissful days. These days it's more like slapping on thick, pasty mineral-based sunscreen all over your kid and then inevitably looking like ghosts. It's packing every noodle, water-sprayer, diving ring and freaking bucket you can possibly carry only to have your kid NOT play with any of them when you actually get there. (And you're so tired of bringing them that you say F it and leave them there for someone else to handle...)
It's trying to fit into your pre-baby bikini knowing damn well you don't fit in it at all. It's tip-toe-running after your kid all around the pool to somehow prevent any extra wiggle and jiggle from happening. It's trying to keep their grabby hands away from your top so you don't have an unfortunate nip-slip.  It's actually having to go IN the water. And like, get WET.

It's convincing your kid to sit in a chair and have a snack of goldfish/popcorn/crackers (or whatever other junk you threw haphazardly in a bag) every hour for 15 whole minutes. 
It's trying your damn hardest not to yell at the jerk kids that splash or push the little ones out of the way. 
It's trying your damn hardest not to yell at the lifeguards for sleeping behind their holographic fake Ray-Bans.

Nope. There's no relaxation here.

Instead, a trip to the pool with a toddler is more like a triathlon of sorts. And what begins as initial excitement: "Yea! Let's go to the pool!" usually ends in exhaustion for you and hopefully a long, 2-3 hour nap for your little one (that is after you strip off all the wet swim clothes...)

Take all the pictures you can possibly take on that first day at the pool. Trust me, you won't have time to Instagram for the rest of the summer.

Now can I go on vacation?