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Old 08-31-2009, 04:24 PM   #24
DIS Veteran
Join Date: Jul 2008
Location: central PA
Posts: 1,310

Four weeks to go!

Wow – just four weeks to go. This last weekend was the last free weekend for a good while. It was spent doing laundry, cleaning out the garage and trying to get a handle on the weeds around the house. So I guess it wasn’t so free after all. I picked up some disposable waterproof cameras (thanks Flossbolna for the idea!) for the pool as well as any rides where they might get wet (assuming Splash Mountain and maybe Kali River Rapids - I don't know that my mom will want to go on that one, but I think both girls might).

It started out a bit rough when Heckle decided to put her brother in the toy grocery cart and wheel him into the foyer. The ride lasted about 3 seconds and ended with a bloody nose (his), a “what were you thinking, he’s not a doll” (mine), hysterical crying (all three kids but particularly Heckle who was very upset that her brother was hurt) and a near trip to the ER when the Dude’s nose stopped bleeding just in time for him to throw up all the blood he’d swallowed. Nothing works quite like the sight of your child vomiting blood to clear out the cobwebs of your brain that have formed overnight. Later that night, I was at the store with Heckle and got a phone call from DH asking me to pick up some new tub toys since the Dude decided to take his BM of the day while in the tub with his sister (who was remarkably calm about the whole thing and just jumped in the shower to get cleaned off a second time) and DH was tossing anything that looked absorbent.

I have tie dye supplies on the way. Enough to tie dye an army. This will be a craft for our upcoming camping trip the weekend before we go to WDW. DH says he likes tie dye but he’s not so sure about a tie dyed Mickey head t-shirt. We shall see. DH hasn’t been the same since he threw out his old tie dyed Robert Plant shirt, which he swore cost enough back in 1989 he would keep until it fell off his body. He was true to his word, to my everlasting shame. I have no problem throwing out the embarrassing underwear or socks. But I didn’t have the heart to dispose of the Robert Plant shirt, so I was grateful when he finally recognized it was time to let go. We saw Jesus Christ Superstar last summer and they had some pretty nifty shirts on sale in the lobby (tie-dyed, no less). I would have gotten one, but didn’t want to see him wear it until we could start collecting social security.

Camping. My husband is not a fan of camping. Neither is the husband of my dear friend who is coming with us. BTW – this is “camping” only in the sense that there is a fire pit and a grill outside the cabin and there are trees nearby. The cabin itself is a loft cottage complete with hot and cold running water, a flush toilet, cable TV and a kitchenette. It’s pretty much the cabins at Fort Wilderness, except it’s in Gettysburg, PA. This is the closest to camping we will ever come with our spouses. They will be bringing along board games to play in case it is too hot to go outside or raining or in case they just hate the woods so much they have to stay inside and complain about their wives who will be toiling away outside making s’mores. And tie dyed Mickey head t-shirts.

At the very least, the kids will have fun. Our sons are only about a year apart in age and go to the same day care. One day, Jeckle said she wanted to bring the other baby home instead of her brother. I don’t know if it’s because she’s tired of him or he’s too old to be cute. She’s asked to bring home other babies – when I told her that one little girl’s parents would be very sad and would miss her, she said “but if they died, she wouldn’t have anywhere else to go.” I immediately asked her what she wanted to have for dinner, successfully putting an end that rather morbid train of thought.

Now that I think of it, Heckle had her own moment of morbidity one day when at the park several years ago. A little girl had fallen and started to cry and Heckle immediately ran over and yelled “What happened, did your mommy and daddy die?” Mortified, I said, “no, I think she just bumped her knee. What’s say we go and get some ice cream…”

I’d like to believe my children just think of the worst case scenario and because they love us so very much they can’t think of anything more horrible than our deaths. But in reality I think they are just strange.
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