KandiKin
10-19-2007, 11:02 AM
My 2 year-old Grandson and I are going to see Mickey...oh, and we are letting a few other people tag along.
My (almost) 2 year old grandson and I are going to Disney and we are (rather) graciously (I think) allowing his mother, his aunt, and his grandfather to come along.
WARNING! His mother better stay off my case about the Dole Whips and the Mickey head ice cream I plan on sharing with him, though. She best be leaving her I-am-the mommy-no-sugar-Nazi-ways at the door, baby, cuz I ain’t playin’, ya dig? And if my DH (a.k.a. Pohpoh) says *ONE* word about the 100 or so stuffed toys and various other trinkets I plan on purchasing for him he’s gonna be finding himself in a heap of trouble too.
I am MeeMaw.
Hear me roar.
Let me digress for a tic about the Grandma thing. I have 5 beautiful children. I love them more than my next breath. When they were born I honestly thought no other love could compare. But nothing, and I mean NADA! Compares to how I feel about my grandson. I don’t know why, I don’t get what it is all about, and I don’t understand it—I just know it’s what it is. Grandmas? Any Grandparents out there? Stand up and recognize! I love Jack...
...and I think he likes me okay too.
Our trip to see Mr. Mickey and Krewe is set for December 6 - 11. It was my idea. I planned it. I take full responsibility. And, I am already planning the next one. No one , especially my DH, PohPoh Practical, knows this, however. He would probably break out in a cold sweat if he knew. (PohPoh Practical does not believe in debt. And as we all know, Disney pretty much equals at least some amount of debt. It’s what makes it so darn all-American, oui?)
Me? I believe in fueling the economy with my consumer spending. I mean , honestly; does PohPoh Practical want all those Disney CM’s to lose their jobs? Well, perhaps PohPoh Practical can be that heartless, but not me.
No sir. No Ma’am.
Also PohPoh Practical labors under the false misapprehension that there may actually be other places to take a vacation.
Astonished, I asked, “Like where?”
“Like Yosemite. Canada. Hawaii.”
Pfft. Hawaii! Canada! Yosemite? Puh-leeze. Oceans. Mountains. Right.
I said, “Listen, we’ve already been to Canada. It’s over at World Showcase, remember? And there’s mountains at Animal Kingdom, and the monorail goes over a lagoon. Now do please hush up, darlin’, and hand me the Disney Visa. Oh, and jes freshen up my lil ol’ drink would you? A body gets mighty parched making all these ressies.”
Also, he sometimes acts as if I haven’t contributed to The Cause. Didn’t I put my Botox on the Visa? Hmm? Didn’t that earn big Disney award points? Hmm? Hair highlights? Hmm? How about my scrap booking supplies? Same thing! Big Disney reward points!
Sigh.
I often feel as if I am not appreciated. Like so many wives and mothers, no one notices what we do until we stop doing it. <lifts chin and smiles a brave smile>
And yet I soldier on, dear reader, because I hope to not only entertain you with my PTR, but inspire you as well.
Because that’s the way I roll.
We are going in December because (a) I love Christmas, the taggers along love Christmas (2) it’s not hot and humid, because I really really don’t do hot and humid theme parks–not even Disney ones (3) this trip is a Christmas present to my two daughters–more about that later and (b) it’s value season.
Again, I booked a trip during VALUE SEASON using REWARD POINTS I “earned” getting fabulous! Hello!? A little appreciation here! Show me some love, people!
The Cast :
My Grandson, Jackson Alexander. I would go on and on about how much I love him, how cute he is, how smart, etc., but I think you are feeling me there. JA will turn two shortly after our trip ends, and thus we are celebrating his birthday while at Disney. What can I say? Just knowing he is in the world makes my day brighter.
SIde Bar and HELP NEEDED! If anyone can help me post pics to my report, it would very muc be appreciated.
Moi, The Faboo MeeMaw. No, really. That is what Jack calls me. Faboo MeeMaw. Not sure where he learned that. <snicker> I am 47 years. old, but thanks to expensive injections of newt’s tails and bats’ wings, I don’t look a day over, oh...I dunno....say....45.) :scared1: The most unique thing about me is probably that I am an amateur weight lifter. Keeps me “in shape” –or a valid 47 year-old facsimile thereof–and off the streets at night. Also, and don’t tell anybody this, but I listen to eminem and Nelly on my iPod while I work out. What can I say?
The Krewe, a.k.a. “The Hangers-On”
My wonderful husband, PohPoh Practical. We met at LSU. He was majoring in football, I was majoring in alcohol consumption. His nickname was ‘The Neck’ so that gives you some idea. I am not sure what my nickname was, because people were too polite to say it to my face. We were the perfect Southern collegiate couple–a football player and a budding alcoholic. My mom and daddy adored him. They thought he was a good influence. I loved his mother from the first time I met her when she exclaimed, “Thank the good Lord! My son was fixing to become the world’s most boring young man! I think you may be his salvation yet!” She was hoping I was a bad influence. (And I was. ;) ) PohPoh lived, breathed, ate, slept, and talked football, 24/7. He was a starting offensive lineman, back before linemen were so darn fat. Now it’s all about the pass block; back in the day they ran the ball a lot more. But now I am wandering. Anyway, DH is still verra verra cute. He still works out, and so he could still proudly wear the title ‘The Neck’. But that would be gauche.
My most middlest daughter, Jack's mom, Tink. Tink is 25, and Tink is wonderful. I love her a lot.( And I like her, too!) She’s a fantastic mom, a former national level competitive swimmer, and now the wife of a Marine. Probably this is a harder job than training for Senior nationals. Like many middles she is the peace maker. She is very even tempered, a trait which may come in handy during our little family fun fest.
My baby daughter, Eeyore. Eeyore is adorable, and definitely the baby, 23 and married , or not. Tink has been taking care of Eeyore since grade school, when Eeyore would sit on the floor in the family room and beg Tink to get her shoes, her book bag, her lunch, etc. I love Eeyore, she’s my baby. She’s also maddening at times. This is probably my fault.
Isn’t it always the mother’s fault? <sniff>
Eeyore is married to a man in the Army, deployed to Iraq. Again. ( I mean, he has been deployed to Iraq again, not that my daughter is married again. To another soldier deployed again...oh, never mind.) Tink and Eeyore are very close. I used to say “thick as thieves” but that was when they were in high school and did crappolla like “run away” (they left a note and made their beds, because they were well-raised, considerate juvenile delinquents) to South Padre Island for Spring break after being told NO WAY could they go, and then calling me up two days later sobbing and begging for us to come get them.
Deep Southern Woman Sigh. My little geniuses.
So that’s us.
Is this boring?
Let me know, and I’ll stop.
Otherwise, next up, our itinerary, my preparations (“Mom, I think you’ve gone mad.”) ADR’s, birthday plans, and etc.
My (almost) 2 year old grandson and I are going to Disney and we are (rather) graciously (I think) allowing his mother, his aunt, and his grandfather to come along.
WARNING! His mother better stay off my case about the Dole Whips and the Mickey head ice cream I plan on sharing with him, though. She best be leaving her I-am-the mommy-no-sugar-Nazi-ways at the door, baby, cuz I ain’t playin’, ya dig? And if my DH (a.k.a. Pohpoh) says *ONE* word about the 100 or so stuffed toys and various other trinkets I plan on purchasing for him he’s gonna be finding himself in a heap of trouble too.
I am MeeMaw.
Hear me roar.
Let me digress for a tic about the Grandma thing. I have 5 beautiful children. I love them more than my next breath. When they were born I honestly thought no other love could compare. But nothing, and I mean NADA! Compares to how I feel about my grandson. I don’t know why, I don’t get what it is all about, and I don’t understand it—I just know it’s what it is. Grandmas? Any Grandparents out there? Stand up and recognize! I love Jack...
...and I think he likes me okay too.
Our trip to see Mr. Mickey and Krewe is set for December 6 - 11. It was my idea. I planned it. I take full responsibility. And, I am already planning the next one. No one , especially my DH, PohPoh Practical, knows this, however. He would probably break out in a cold sweat if he knew. (PohPoh Practical does not believe in debt. And as we all know, Disney pretty much equals at least some amount of debt. It’s what makes it so darn all-American, oui?)
Me? I believe in fueling the economy with my consumer spending. I mean , honestly; does PohPoh Practical want all those Disney CM’s to lose their jobs? Well, perhaps PohPoh Practical can be that heartless, but not me.
No sir. No Ma’am.
Also PohPoh Practical labors under the false misapprehension that there may actually be other places to take a vacation.
Astonished, I asked, “Like where?”
“Like Yosemite. Canada. Hawaii.”
Pfft. Hawaii! Canada! Yosemite? Puh-leeze. Oceans. Mountains. Right.
I said, “Listen, we’ve already been to Canada. It’s over at World Showcase, remember? And there’s mountains at Animal Kingdom, and the monorail goes over a lagoon. Now do please hush up, darlin’, and hand me the Disney Visa. Oh, and jes freshen up my lil ol’ drink would you? A body gets mighty parched making all these ressies.”
Also, he sometimes acts as if I haven’t contributed to The Cause. Didn’t I put my Botox on the Visa? Hmm? Didn’t that earn big Disney award points? Hmm? Hair highlights? Hmm? How about my scrap booking supplies? Same thing! Big Disney reward points!
Sigh.
I often feel as if I am not appreciated. Like so many wives and mothers, no one notices what we do until we stop doing it. <lifts chin and smiles a brave smile>
And yet I soldier on, dear reader, because I hope to not only entertain you with my PTR, but inspire you as well.
Because that’s the way I roll.
We are going in December because (a) I love Christmas, the taggers along love Christmas (2) it’s not hot and humid, because I really really don’t do hot and humid theme parks–not even Disney ones (3) this trip is a Christmas present to my two daughters–more about that later and (b) it’s value season.
Again, I booked a trip during VALUE SEASON using REWARD POINTS I “earned” getting fabulous! Hello!? A little appreciation here! Show me some love, people!
The Cast :
My Grandson, Jackson Alexander. I would go on and on about how much I love him, how cute he is, how smart, etc., but I think you are feeling me there. JA will turn two shortly after our trip ends, and thus we are celebrating his birthday while at Disney. What can I say? Just knowing he is in the world makes my day brighter.
SIde Bar and HELP NEEDED! If anyone can help me post pics to my report, it would very muc be appreciated.
Moi, The Faboo MeeMaw. No, really. That is what Jack calls me. Faboo MeeMaw. Not sure where he learned that. <snicker> I am 47 years. old, but thanks to expensive injections of newt’s tails and bats’ wings, I don’t look a day over, oh...I dunno....say....45.) :scared1: The most unique thing about me is probably that I am an amateur weight lifter. Keeps me “in shape” –or a valid 47 year-old facsimile thereof–and off the streets at night. Also, and don’t tell anybody this, but I listen to eminem and Nelly on my iPod while I work out. What can I say?
The Krewe, a.k.a. “The Hangers-On”
My wonderful husband, PohPoh Practical. We met at LSU. He was majoring in football, I was majoring in alcohol consumption. His nickname was ‘The Neck’ so that gives you some idea. I am not sure what my nickname was, because people were too polite to say it to my face. We were the perfect Southern collegiate couple–a football player and a budding alcoholic. My mom and daddy adored him. They thought he was a good influence. I loved his mother from the first time I met her when she exclaimed, “Thank the good Lord! My son was fixing to become the world’s most boring young man! I think you may be his salvation yet!” She was hoping I was a bad influence. (And I was. ;) ) PohPoh lived, breathed, ate, slept, and talked football, 24/7. He was a starting offensive lineman, back before linemen were so darn fat. Now it’s all about the pass block; back in the day they ran the ball a lot more. But now I am wandering. Anyway, DH is still verra verra cute. He still works out, and so he could still proudly wear the title ‘The Neck’. But that would be gauche.
My most middlest daughter, Jack's mom, Tink. Tink is 25, and Tink is wonderful. I love her a lot.( And I like her, too!) She’s a fantastic mom, a former national level competitive swimmer, and now the wife of a Marine. Probably this is a harder job than training for Senior nationals. Like many middles she is the peace maker. She is very even tempered, a trait which may come in handy during our little family fun fest.
My baby daughter, Eeyore. Eeyore is adorable, and definitely the baby, 23 and married , or not. Tink has been taking care of Eeyore since grade school, when Eeyore would sit on the floor in the family room and beg Tink to get her shoes, her book bag, her lunch, etc. I love Eeyore, she’s my baby. She’s also maddening at times. This is probably my fault.
Isn’t it always the mother’s fault? <sniff>
Eeyore is married to a man in the Army, deployed to Iraq. Again. ( I mean, he has been deployed to Iraq again, not that my daughter is married again. To another soldier deployed again...oh, never mind.) Tink and Eeyore are very close. I used to say “thick as thieves” but that was when they were in high school and did crappolla like “run away” (they left a note and made their beds, because they were well-raised, considerate juvenile delinquents) to South Padre Island for Spring break after being told NO WAY could they go, and then calling me up two days later sobbing and begging for us to come get them.
Deep Southern Woman Sigh. My little geniuses.
So that’s us.
Is this boring?
Let me know, and I’ll stop.
Otherwise, next up, our itinerary, my preparations (“Mom, I think you’ve gone mad.”) ADR’s, birthday plans, and etc.