Happiness and HAAAAmony

I micro-managed my children's eating to the point of the perfect amount of everything. They weren't happy, but I was keeping to the schedule. By Wednesday night, night before departure, night of butterflies in the bellies and evasive sleep, I had just enough in the house for two pepperoni pizzas, 4 bowls of salad and milk all around. My little bites ate almost all of one pizza, leaving the whole plus two slices for lunch on the road. Perfect. Again my micro-management skills, while perhaps creating issues for my bites in the future, were working beautifully. The morning of departure required nothing more than tossing zip-locs full of pizza and some juice boxes into the cooler, and we're off.
They should engage you to streamline our Health Care system.....or at least assist with our Armed Forces procurements. Impressive organizational skills! ::yes::



And outlet shopping.
Dagnabit....you had me thinking "what a cool lady"...into history & culture...educating her children on our nation's oldest city. I'll even give her a pass for not stopping for Gator Pics....& then comes the *&%$&%% outlet mall reference. :sad2:



& yes SharkB8, the book is normally better than the movie....but the popcorn tastes better at the theatre. popcorn::

hound
 
There are those that are born shoppers. People who find it entertaining, exhilarating, intoxicating. My in-laws can make a trip down the East coast a four day event by stopping at every shopping center within sight along the road. I once knew a woman who drove from NY to Florida every fall and stopped at every (EVERY) Cracker Barrel. That's a lot of chicken n' dumplings.

Then there is me. I am not a good shopper. It's not that I lack shopping sense or fail to be a saavy consumer. It's more that I have a built in timer, and once I've reached my limit, I'm done. There is no "Oh, I think I've had enough", or "I'm reaching the point of completion". There is just "GET ME OUT OF HERE!" Some stores have longer time allowances than others, but generally speaking, I loose it rather quickly.

So with that in mind, we headed into the outlet mall off of 95 with a cooler in hand and a plan. We were going to break all rules of society and eat our left over pizza in the food court. The food court not only has easy access to restrooms, which by now we all needed, but it is a mere 25 feet to the Disney Store. See, Little Bite 2 needed a new autograph book. He got his first one at the age of 3 and had filled it on our last trip. He loves to flip through the pages and try to make out the signatures. Rafiki is a favorite. It's very cool how his "i" looks like a tree. And he has a smooch from The Fairy Godmother. That woman has some seriously long lasting lipstick. That company needs to get on that marketing campaign.

SO, we unpack our cooler and pop straws in juice boxes and talk about our plans for the evening. Once we check in we are heading for Downtown Disney for dinner and the much loved Lego store. We'll take the boat over from POR. It will be fantastic. All the while we are getting more than a few looks as we eat our pizza. The mall food court offers Chinese food, gigantic pretzles, subs and salads, ice cream treats and fancy coffee drinks. No pizza. Yet there we sit, pepperoni in hand. Nothing like being obvious.

After we eat we walk the 25 feet to the Disney store where I think I am going to get the deal of the century on a new autograph book. They are right at the counter. I zone in on one like a chameleon on a cricket. Grab it. I stand at the counter waiting for assistance. I just want to get out. Then little bite 2 reminds me that we couldn't find his hat before we left. I searched high and low, but no hat. So, I reluctantly left the counter and headed to the hats. Another deal of the century. A bucket hat for $2.99. I'm again heading for the counter when I notice a stuffed Timon walking across the store. Seems little bite 3 found his way to the stuffed area, and thinks Timon needs to go back to WDW. I stand my ground at the counter and get DH to escort Timon back to the other stuffed stuff when I find I can't find little bite 1. WHAT is going on here? He's been lured by the pins. "NO! Not the PINS!"

It was not my micro-managing skills that got us out of there. It was my timer. I was done. Mayhem was on the horizon and I wanted out. I needed out. If it wasn't in my hand it wasn't coming home. Little Bite 3 had other plans. I often think he micro-manages me far better than I do him. This time it was Stitch who came to the counter with him. It was the Stitch with the hats. He was wearing Mickey ears, holding Goofy's hat in one hand and Donald's in the other. I caved. That's what happens when I want out.

Like speed walkers in training we got to the car. Everyone buckled and secure? Check. Pre-WDW souveniers? Check. Bellies full and bladders empty? Check. I-4 was a mere 30 minutes down the road. Oh, to head westward!
 
That's why the lil' bites were grabbing stuff all at once.....they knew mommie's "timer" was about to go off.

& I bet those folks munching on salad & pretzels were eyeballing your Peperroni Pizza. :tongue:


Great Report.

hound
 

If you've ever driven to Disney World from 95, then surely you've seen the huge parcel of land home to many, many cows as you get onto I-4. It's one of those moments where the smell in the air lets you know you are getting somewhere. Ahhhh.

To make a long drive short, we drove as fast as our collective conscious's would allow, past the cows, past the countless exits, past the WB station with 37 satellite dishes out front, past HolyLand Experience, and started to see signs. I'm like Rabbit in that I don't need signs, I had a map. Besides, we've done this several times, and DH and I brag about our navigational skills.

Side bar : I am the child of a divorce. Said divorce allowed for 2 weeks of vacation with my dad each year. My dad is a gypsy at heart, and we almost always went away for those 2 weeks. I am before the days of Ipods, gameboys, and portable DVDs. I would sit in planes and read the barf bag, then the emergency information, then the backs of the carriers' magazines. In the back was the map. I loved to look at the maps, and while my education failed to provide me with geography skills, my time in planes taught me well.

Having said this, I confess I am a map spinner. My weakness is left vs. right under pressure, and my North/South/East/West is downright pitiful. SO, I spin maps. I determine what direction we are going in, and I spin the map so that I am travelling with the line. Then my left is on my left, not my right, and my North is truly North, not South. Sad, I know.

I know from my map that I want exit 67. Off we go. Happy. Very happy. We've made it. We are approaching property and we are giddy. Under the arch we go and we all let out our traditional (if not obnoxious) yahooooo! Okay, down to the business of getting to Port Orleans-Riverside. We know we are heading toward DTD. Straining my eyes for signs I realize I really need to get a new prescription for my glasses. My little bites are signing in the back and DH and I are searching.

Have you noticed that there are very few actual road signs on Disney property? All I needed was Osceola Highway. Then I could spin my map and get us there.

I saw a blurry sign for DTD resort areas. "There we go" I said. Funny. We were passing the exit.

"Why didn't you get off?"

"Because you said 'NO'" said DH.

I apparently was guilty of what I tell my little bites NOT to do all the time. I was making eye contact with the window and my DH misheard me. Not a problem, we should turn around, right? Impossible. There is absolutely no place to turn around. We are forced to press on down what ever road it is that we happen to be on. I so desperately wanted to just do a U-turn on the manicured median, but I knew that was a recipe for bad pixie-dust. And that's worse than bad Karma.

So on we went until we saw an exit. We took it. Seemed reasonable. It wasn't. I had my map and was learning as I spun that we were heading for AK. That was SO the wrong direction. So we took another exit. Spun my map and found we were going for Blizzard Beach. Ugh.

I was thinking the thing to do was to take a road back off property and get back on properly, when we saw a McDonald's. A familiar McDonald's. We knew where we were, now we just had to get away. For where we were was not where we wanted to be. I said left, DH turned right, and the next thing we knew we were at a gate. NO! Not our gate! "Back! Back! Over the falls!"

The kind woman at the gate told us to turn around and go straight for 13 lights. Thirteen. Then we had to make a left. That was it. We had been wandering the property for 45 minutes and I was a mere 13 lights away? What's with the map? How did my spinning skills fail me so? I suppose it didn't really matter. We were only 13 lights away.

So, we did the U-turn and counted in unison as we passed beneath each and every of the next 13 lights. Even little bite 3 counted. It was on the lucky 13th light that we made our left and saw the sign for Port Orleans. All my map spinning tension was instantly gone. My guilt for talking to the window vanished. We had made it.

Little Bite 1 had stayed at Dixie Landings, back when it was Dixie Landings, on his first trip to WDW. And as we pulled into the parking lot I remembered vividly that journey. We had driven down as hurricane Floyd approached the states. We spent the night before in a hotel in St. Augustine with the windows boarded up and the wind howling through them. The morning brought with it darkness, sticky buns and an almost 3 year old so tired he threw up in the car on the way. But that's a whole other TR.

And with the drive behind us, we had one more thing to do....

Check in.
 
You are funny! And ITA about the Wonka thing. I love JD, except in that movie. Creepy-dee, I say.

Thank you for explaining about your timer, too -- I apparently have one too, I just never knew what it was!!! :rotfl:
 
Kim,
Yeah! :woohoo: I'm so happy to have another reader. I was beginning to think Hound was my one and only, and happy to have Hound I am, but it's always nice to have company.

How was your Utah salt water taffy?

Oh, and beware the timer...Walmart is the worst!
 
sharkB8HooHaHa said:
How was your Utah salt water taffy?

How did you KNOW about that? Are you stalking me or something?




;)
 
NurseMommy! You ARE still out there. Thanks for letting me know.

And Kim, I read about it on UMama's TR. I'm not stalking you, honestly. Was it yummy?
 
Feeling very much like Star-Bellied Sneetches with stars upon thars, we approached OUR gate, not the nameless, faceless gate of 13 lights ago. This one was OURS. We had a room and the paperwork to prove it. No guy in a uniform with a clipboard was going to stand between me and my long overdue moderate resort time. DH approached slowly and I must admit to the thousand of things that went rushing through my mind. What if we weren't one of the chosen? What is something had gone wrong and we were NOT on the clipboard?!? Where would we stay? What would we do? A gate, a clipboard and a uniform stood between me and bliss. I clutched my confimation paperwork and DH said the magic words...."We are checking in".
Yes, we were checking in. Uniform looked at his clipboard, flipped a page, flipped back again .....(WHAT?!?! WHAT IS THE PROBLEM?? JUST STOP FLIPPING!!!!) (That was me in my head ~ advice to the uniform AND myself.)

"Yup, right here. Go ahead."

That was IT? "YUP?" And "GO AHEAD"? No horns? No welcome mat? No tossing of pixie dust into the car? What was the deal with the guy with the clipboard?

Then the gate magically opened and all was well. We were going in.

Parking proved uneventful. We quickly made an entry plan which involved getting little bites to the bathroom as quickly as possible and me to the line even quicker. Unfortunately the urgency of both situations meant that the walk in lacked the awe I envisioned in my head. Honestly, I hardly took a moment to notice the begonias outside.

I was pleasantly surprised to find that at roughly 4 o'clock in the afternoon, just when I thought everyone would be arriving, no one was. I had two people in line in front of me, and there were about 5 CMs working desks. I got to look up, a great thing to do in POR 'cause the big ceiling fans are so cool. I generally dislike the ceiling fan, but living in SC they are a necessity. I only wish I could install POR ceiling fans in my house. ( I digress.)

Heather is my official checker-in-er. She is sweet. Happy. And speedy. All good things. Here's the scoop on our reservations. We, like many fall WDW travellers, took advantage of the free dining. I had originally booked for 6 nights. Once I book, the mouse on my back tends to get loud. At which time I usually add a night or two onto the trip. This was such a trip. The mouse hollered at me, and so DH and I decided to go down a day early. And the mouse on HIS back hollered at him, so we decided to stay a day later. The day early was a room only at POR. Check in was a bit messy with our reservations. But Heather was in control.

I asked about the split reservation and our room being switched. The last thing I wanted to have to do was repack in the morning. So, I smiled sweetly and she "looked into it". She banged away at those keys like Little Bite 3 does when I've asked him not to. She was a machine. After what seemed like 3 minutes, and probably was, she said she arranged it so that we could keep the same room. Fabulous. Now, whether she truly arranged it or not is open to discussion, but really doesn't matter. We were there, we were almost finished checking in, and my little bites found the horse drawn carriage outside. This place was going to be fantastic!

I refused to give my Little Bites charging privledges (I AM cruel, aren't I?), signed what I needed to sign, got my map, keys, welcome kit and we were off to find our room. Building 14. Very good digs.

I walked to the room with bites 1, 2 and 3 and DH drove the car around. We met in an almost empty parking lot and thought "This is the week of free dining that no one booked! We are SO lucky!"

We were SO wrong.
 
sharkB8HooHaHa said:
Side bar : I am the child of a divorce. Said divorce allowed for 2 weeks of vacation with my dad each year. My dad is a gypsy at heart, and we almost always went away for those 2 weeks. I am before the days of Ipods, gameboys, and portable DVDs. I would sit in planes and read the barf bag, then the emergency information, then the backs of the carriers' magazines.

:lmao: I only got this far and had to stop - you just described my chidlhood! To this day, I'm compelled to read EVERYTHING in the seat-back pocket. Okay, back to reading your TR....
 
Alright, I was feeling all warm and happy with you, about to post my "Congratulations on reaching The World! Can't wait to hear about your days..." etc., etc., but now you've got me a tad worried - that last installment ended on a most ominous note......
Will some pixie dust help at all?! :wizard:
 
I love it when "checker in-er's" bang away at keys. It elevates the suspense & the experience. Glad you're "in".

Great report & writing! :thumbsup2

hound
 
Thank you V, Hound and NurseMommy for hanging in there with me. I know it's a bit drawn out, but I tend to be long winded. I'm hoping to get back to you tomorrow. :)
 
Our room was on the second floor. I didn't argue with Heather. I was just so blasted happy to finally be off Osceola, beyond those 13 lights, and standing beneath ginormous ceiling fans. In fact, second floors don't bother me, even without elevators. I think I was a sherpa in a past life. I think DH is one in this life.

Unpacking the car was easy. Keeping all our stuff contained for 6.5 hours was the hard part. We opened doors and it poured out, spilling onto the ground like water seeking it's own level. Luggage, hats, DVDs, the cooler, Disney Store bags, sunscreen, empty juice boxes...you get the picture. We looked like the people in the airport that travel with a change of clothes in a used Wal-Mart bag. It was not a pretty sight. So, with much haste, we gathered up just enough to make ourselves fold with the weight of our parcels. Everyone except Little Bite 3, who thinks he should have nothing to do with assisting anyone in any way, shape or form. He had new Stitch with the hats, and he was doing his part.

Up we go to our room. Opening the door was much like when Mike and Sulley find themselves in the Himalayas. The blast of artic air was enough to make each of us pause. Did we REALLY want to go in there?

Well, of course we did. So in we went. DH and I dumped stuff, Little Bites 2 and 3 ceremoniously jumped on the beds (something that is forbidden at home, but highly encouraged at hotels) and Little Bite 1 explored the room. Drawers were opened, curtains pulled and pushed, toilets flushed with a zeal found only at WDW resorts. We had made it. This was our space for the next 8 nights. And it was awesome.

But why were we dilling-dalleying in our room? We had a boat to catch.

The plan was to take the boat over to DTD and eat at Earl of Sandwich, then hit the lego store, then give a very long lecture to little bite 1 about the benefits of saving money. So we left the room in complete shambles, grabbing only what we thought we needed for the evening. We headed for the boat dock and found a short line in front of us. One boat came and went without us, which was fine, for it gave us time to look around at the resort. The turn-around for the boats was impressive, and our wait was no longer than 10 minutes. Our skipper, Scott, welcomed us aboard and we were off.

It was an informative ride to DTD. Captain Scott filled us in on all sorts of resort stuff, like what the Tree House Villas are currently being used for and why. Then he slammed on the boat breaks and told us all to look "over there". A vague request when you have one hand on the wheel and one on the speaker-thing (sorry, what is the technical name for it?) So there we are, all 25 people on the boat, looking aimlessly around for something. I was on the lookout for alligators, what with my issues with them and the fact that we were in Florida and on the water, but nothing. Nothing in the sky, nothing on the water's edge. Nothing. Finally Captain Scott points to one of the Villas and quietly says "It's a wild peacock". Wild peacock? Who knew? I still don't see anything. Then there are those people who start to make "ooooHHHHHH" noises and "LooooOOOOOk" as if they really see it. Now, I know I need a new prescription, but I think I'd see a peacock if there was one. I just figure those people didn't want to make Captain Scott feel bad. Feelings might be hurt if no one sees what the good Captain sees.
Then Capt. starts telling us that someone who lives in the Villas feeds the peacock, so it sits on the balcony until this mystery person comes home. Well, I've watched enough Jeopardy to know that sometimes the biggest clue to the answer is right in the clue itself. ON THE BALCONY!

Lo and behold, there was the peacock. It was brown. It was a brown bird. Maybe if I had had that new prescription....
 
Brown Peacock?!!???? Who knew?

Only peacocks i ever saw were the big multi colored, slow moving kind. (or the one our 1962 RCA Color TV - first color tv on the block - that came on right before "The Wonderful World of Disney" ::yes:: ) ...which dang sure wasn't brown.

hound :smooth:
 
sharkB8HooHaHa said:
Unpacking the car was easy. Keeping all our stuff contained for 6.5 hours was the hard part. We opened doors and it poured out, spilling onto the ground like water seeking it's own level.

LOL!!! :rotfl2: :rotfl2: :rotfl2:

We drove to AL last x-mas; 10 hours in the caravan, and that was exactly what happened!
 












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