Sweet Mother of Fudge! 2/15 A Goodbye Summary~Pimples and Farts
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Mrs. The King
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I jammed my head so hard into the corner of the fridge today, while I was cleaning it, that I rung my own bell.
Do I really, after 34 years, not know the size of my own head? Can that be possible? Did I think I was suddenly boneless, like a squid, able to pass through a hole the size of my eye.
I am not klutzy, just so freaking pigheaded that I refuse to be confined to the limitations of a human body.
Let me dust off this trip report. I think it fell behind the toilet like a used q-tip. Forgotten. Tossed thoughtlessly, with only dust bunnies as company.
I know for a fact the Kings were in Disney. We were headed for MGM. We were able to secure two free strollers. One for PS and one for our stuff. I knew as we stroller up in the joint that I wanted to hit the High School Musical Parade. According to the schedule we were about 15 minutes away for the extravaganza. The kids had went through a phase of uber HSM mania. It was waning now, but I knew they knew all the songs. Heck, I knew all the songs. So I wanted to commando this one part. Forget the rest of the trip. We could be the pampered, pale skinned babies we preferred to be. But we were hanging in there for this one. At just about 12 noon we arrived on the spot. Dead Center in MGM (aka Disney Studios). Not a cotton picking piece of shade to be found. We wheeled up on the tape marking the stage. I thought, stupidly, that PS and PC could stand in the shade with Grandma
and I would hold their spots with the stroller. The Cast member in charge of stroller relocation was seeing things a bit differently. All strollers must be away. He didnt care where, but they must be away.
The spot was exactly 4,556 degrees Fahrenheit. Trying to explain to PS that she must wait in her spot to hold it for the show was like herding cats.
And it was screamingly, crazily hot. It was like being in a the hot skillet, on the gas stove with jalapeño peppers, while a full size adult dragon breathes fire in your face while bouncing the flaming sun off your behind kind of hot. The sweat. Sweet Heavens the sweating, and the sun, and that screamingly white concrete. And the trees!! The puny trees with their puny leaves!!! They were so very far away. PS steals my giant black lensed sunglasses. I get an instant headache without them.
Each ticking second of those 15 minutes lasted 4 days.
Finally, after much, much commando whining and sweating and fretting. -I have a lot of internal fretting. (IS this the right choice? Do the kids have enough sun block? Can I punch the stroller wrangler and still stay to watch the show?)
The HSM show pipes up. The screaming sun is put on mute by the happy, dancing children. PS and PC dance and sing all the words. The high-spirited dancers engage the kids, dragging them out to participate.
After it was all said and done, I congratulated myself for sticking it out. The kids had really liked it. I should have waited on that personal party. We would go ahead and pass the HSM show about 14 more times throughout our visit to MGM/DS. Each time was cooler and more shaded then the last. The site of the dancing and singing more common a sight to us than our own faces in the mirror.
Next up was a nostalgic favorite. Playhouse Disney. PC is really beyond it. Actually, it was the only time he seemed down in the dumps. He did not want to go to Playhouse Disney. I thought the lure of air conditioning would make any of us jump through hoops.
PS was delighted. She jumped and danced. AND followed all the rules.
Not so for the parents of the about 4 year old girl in front of us. Her parents let her stand the entire time. Forcing all the poor souls behind them to tilt and lean in our own private dance to try and see around their little darling. And the parents sprawled out like they were at home on a King size bed. The rest of us were crammed on top of each other like moms at a 90% off sale at Target.
They had upgraded this show from one thing to another. I cant remember what the changes are now, but they were important to me then.
When finally it was time to leave, we left.
Up next Disney Animations..
Did it seem to you like my heart wasnt in this chapter? Honestly. It is hard to put my funny on this week. If you are a reader from my last trip report, you might remember that my best friend was diagnosed with ALS, also known as Lou Gehrigs disease while I was writing. She is a 34 year old Mom to three kids age 10, 7 and almost 2.
ALS is fatal and quick moving. The day she told me about her ALS, she also, in the next breath, told me she wanted to take her kids to Disney, because they had never been. I knew I would get her there. Walking around that day I was numb. I probably should not have been driving at all, but PS was excited to go to a pool party. So, I took her. It was so absurd to make small talk when it felt like the world was losing its air.
I had my back to the pool when another mother said out loud Can someone please grab her? I turned and saw a little girl under the water. I jumped in the pool and dragged her out. I will never forget my relief when she was breathing and coughing. It was so gratifying to pull her out.
I could not miss the irony.
I knew that the pool my friend was in, I couldnt pull her out of. I would be watching. Standing and not able to get her out.
So much has happened since her diagnoses. I started a Share the Care group that manages things like caregivers, benefits, and providing meals. This past week there has been some marked decline. She is losing her voice and use of her hands. Tonight she was fed for the first time.
I know that was tough for her.
I was speaking to her mom tonight. She is an amazing, graceful lady. And talking to her is the hardest. I cant imagine her pain. And I feel guilty for never wanting to.
So, I really feel this past attempt at a chapter fell short. The only way I can get back on track is to talk about her a little bit.
Her biggest message is Say what you mean, now. She also loves when someone else has a better day and appreciates what they have in their life after they have heard her story.
So I wrote this about her, an article that I will, possibly, send into our local newspaper, at the time of our next benefit. :
Every day I try to imagine what it is like to be drowning in slow drying cement. Every day I try to imagine that when I step forward with my right foot, my left doesnt come following along like a fateful dog. I must drag it to catch up, using the force of my wasting muscles, dragging my toes until it comes to rest where it should. I pretend to feed myself. Every spoonful, (and it must be a spoonful, all other utensils are cast aside) like it is attached to a 50 pound weight, my slight arm shaking and wild with the fight. I picture handing my modesty to the next able-bodied person, whether I like them or not. Letting them commit delicate acts on my body in the harsh light of day. Where would I go in my head to make this moment, or minutes, or hours pass without intrusion?
And everyday I fail to know what is like for her.
I give up my imagining and get on with my life, movements uninterrupted. I dont savor my steps enough. I dont treasure each word. I forget to give my kids hugs when I should, feeling their strong warm bodies in my arms and twirling them, just for the hell of it. Just to hear their giggles spill out of them like a sparking stream of cool water. I live selfishly. I dont take off running, hair flying in a breeze.
I should.
Because I can.
And she cant.
Right now.
And she wont.
Right now. And I die inside a little, Right now. Because I cant drag her out of that cement. The cement is named ALS and it comes and dries on its own accord. And I will tell you this. You can cry in the shower all you want, shoving your fist in your mouth so you wont make a sound. You can punch a wall as hard as you can until your hand bleeds. You can stay up all night searching the internet for a cure. You cant stop the cement.
Alone.
So we have banded together to help her. We cant join her, be we can try and make treading in cement easier. Human nature is amazing to watch. The loudest, most religious person leaves in a huff, refusing to help anymore. The rest forgive her. Because behind her stand the knights, angels, and soldiers. Dedicated, unwavering, and determined. Wearing red bracelets they stand, willing to do the amazing, willing to do the impossible. They look so average. Grandmas, uncles, tattooed bikers, moms, dads. You see this army all the time. In Target, in the grocery store. When I lock eyes with one of the many I am so grateful to be here, human.
Everyday, when I imagine she and I switch roles, I fall short. I am never as strong as she is. I never listen as much as she does. I spend my moments, anxious, staring at the sand in a fast-empting hourglass. She, in my head, is a better friend to the me with ALS. She does more. She is firmer with me. She knows what is best for me and head strongly does it. And I am always so grateful. In real life, where her body has dropped away from her, her spirit has taken its place. People meeting her for the first time stumble out of her house stunned. Her beauty is overwhelming, inspiring , and breath taking. Her patience to enjoy every moment, the energy she saves to be an amazing mother, her playtime making the baby squeal with delight, giggles spilling out of her body like cool, sparkling water, makes you realize you should be doing more with your own life. We have made pacts, she and I, with our eyes and a few words that live in my heart. I am more because she needed me to be. But I am not enough and assuredly not as good at this than she would be. I know she forgives me.
She would.
I am always proud, when someone is quick thinking to act courageously in a time of need. But this slow courage, it is in another league. I think it takes more character than most of us have. To behold it is a gift, a lesson. A masterpiece like I have never seen before.
She did get to Disney, with her kids. My mother moved heaven and earth and even had the guts to call the Disney VP. And Disney, after hearing my friends story, out of the blue set up four days of meet and greets, special spots in the parades, shows and culminating in being the parade family on Thanksgiving Day. My mother and my Aunt Jo (who is also a cast member) accompanied the family and made sure it all went off without a hitch. I could not have dreamed a better scenario. Having my mom and Aunt Jo in Disney is the equivalent to having two fairy godmothers. They were priceless. Mom called me when the family stepped foot on Main Street. That was an amazing moment. The DISabilities board here will always have my deepest gratitude for all their knowledgeable help in the flurry of plans we made.
Before she left for Disney, she told me "If I could run again I would run from my house straight to yours." And I told her about Soarin'. I told her it would be like running and flying all at the same time. And she could not wait. To feel that free again. She rode Soarin' with her whole family with a huge smile and tears streaming down her face.
If you would like to pray for my friend, her name is Erin.
Chapter 19 Nudding Around
Do I really, after 34 years, not know the size of my own head? Can that be possible? Did I think I was suddenly boneless, like a squid, able to pass through a hole the size of my eye.
I am not klutzy, just so freaking pigheaded that I refuse to be confined to the limitations of a human body.
Let me dust off this trip report. I think it fell behind the toilet like a used q-tip. Forgotten. Tossed thoughtlessly, with only dust bunnies as company.
I know for a fact the Kings were in Disney. We were headed for MGM. We were able to secure two free strollers. One for PS and one for our stuff. I knew as we stroller up in the joint that I wanted to hit the High School Musical Parade. According to the schedule we were about 15 minutes away for the extravaganza. The kids had went through a phase of uber HSM mania. It was waning now, but I knew they knew all the songs. Heck, I knew all the songs. So I wanted to commando this one part. Forget the rest of the trip. We could be the pampered, pale skinned babies we preferred to be. But we were hanging in there for this one. At just about 12 noon we arrived on the spot. Dead Center in MGM (aka Disney Studios). Not a cotton picking piece of shade to be found. We wheeled up on the tape marking the stage. I thought, stupidly, that PS and PC could stand in the shade with Grandma
and I would hold their spots with the stroller. The Cast member in charge of stroller relocation was seeing things a bit differently. All strollers must be away. He didnt care where, but they must be away. The spot was exactly 4,556 degrees Fahrenheit. Trying to explain to PS that she must wait in her spot to hold it for the show was like herding cats.
And it was screamingly, crazily hot. It was like being in a the hot skillet, on the gas stove with jalapeño peppers, while a full size adult dragon breathes fire in your face while bouncing the flaming sun off your behind kind of hot. The sweat. Sweet Heavens the sweating, and the sun, and that screamingly white concrete. And the trees!! The puny trees with their puny leaves!!! They were so very far away. PS steals my giant black lensed sunglasses. I get an instant headache without them.
Each ticking second of those 15 minutes lasted 4 days.
Finally, after much, much commando whining and sweating and fretting. -I have a lot of internal fretting. (IS this the right choice? Do the kids have enough sun block? Can I punch the stroller wrangler and still stay to watch the show?)
The HSM show pipes up. The screaming sun is put on mute by the happy, dancing children. PS and PC dance and sing all the words. The high-spirited dancers engage the kids, dragging them out to participate.
After it was all said and done, I congratulated myself for sticking it out. The kids had really liked it. I should have waited on that personal party. We would go ahead and pass the HSM show about 14 more times throughout our visit to MGM/DS. Each time was cooler and more shaded then the last. The site of the dancing and singing more common a sight to us than our own faces in the mirror.
Next up was a nostalgic favorite. Playhouse Disney. PC is really beyond it. Actually, it was the only time he seemed down in the dumps. He did not want to go to Playhouse Disney. I thought the lure of air conditioning would make any of us jump through hoops.
PS was delighted. She jumped and danced. AND followed all the rules.
Not so for the parents of the about 4 year old girl in front of us. Her parents let her stand the entire time. Forcing all the poor souls behind them to tilt and lean in our own private dance to try and see around their little darling. And the parents sprawled out like they were at home on a King size bed. The rest of us were crammed on top of each other like moms at a 90% off sale at Target.
They had upgraded this show from one thing to another. I cant remember what the changes are now, but they were important to me then.
When finally it was time to leave, we left.
Up next Disney Animations..
Did it seem to you like my heart wasnt in this chapter? Honestly. It is hard to put my funny on this week. If you are a reader from my last trip report, you might remember that my best friend was diagnosed with ALS, also known as Lou Gehrigs disease while I was writing. She is a 34 year old Mom to three kids age 10, 7 and almost 2.
ALS is fatal and quick moving. The day she told me about her ALS, she also, in the next breath, told me she wanted to take her kids to Disney, because they had never been. I knew I would get her there. Walking around that day I was numb. I probably should not have been driving at all, but PS was excited to go to a pool party. So, I took her. It was so absurd to make small talk when it felt like the world was losing its air.
I had my back to the pool when another mother said out loud Can someone please grab her? I turned and saw a little girl under the water. I jumped in the pool and dragged her out. I will never forget my relief when she was breathing and coughing. It was so gratifying to pull her out.
I could not miss the irony.
I knew that the pool my friend was in, I couldnt pull her out of. I would be watching. Standing and not able to get her out.
So much has happened since her diagnoses. I started a Share the Care group that manages things like caregivers, benefits, and providing meals. This past week there has been some marked decline. She is losing her voice and use of her hands. Tonight she was fed for the first time.
I know that was tough for her.
I was speaking to her mom tonight. She is an amazing, graceful lady. And talking to her is the hardest. I cant imagine her pain. And I feel guilty for never wanting to.
So, I really feel this past attempt at a chapter fell short. The only way I can get back on track is to talk about her a little bit.
Her biggest message is Say what you mean, now. She also loves when someone else has a better day and appreciates what they have in their life after they have heard her story.
So I wrote this about her, an article that I will, possibly, send into our local newspaper, at the time of our next benefit. :
Every day I try to imagine what it is like to be drowning in slow drying cement. Every day I try to imagine that when I step forward with my right foot, my left doesnt come following along like a fateful dog. I must drag it to catch up, using the force of my wasting muscles, dragging my toes until it comes to rest where it should. I pretend to feed myself. Every spoonful, (and it must be a spoonful, all other utensils are cast aside) like it is attached to a 50 pound weight, my slight arm shaking and wild with the fight. I picture handing my modesty to the next able-bodied person, whether I like them or not. Letting them commit delicate acts on my body in the harsh light of day. Where would I go in my head to make this moment, or minutes, or hours pass without intrusion?
And everyday I fail to know what is like for her.
I give up my imagining and get on with my life, movements uninterrupted. I dont savor my steps enough. I dont treasure each word. I forget to give my kids hugs when I should, feeling their strong warm bodies in my arms and twirling them, just for the hell of it. Just to hear their giggles spill out of them like a sparking stream of cool water. I live selfishly. I dont take off running, hair flying in a breeze.
I should.
Because I can.
And she cant.
Right now.
And she wont.
Right now. And I die inside a little, Right now. Because I cant drag her out of that cement. The cement is named ALS and it comes and dries on its own accord. And I will tell you this. You can cry in the shower all you want, shoving your fist in your mouth so you wont make a sound. You can punch a wall as hard as you can until your hand bleeds. You can stay up all night searching the internet for a cure. You cant stop the cement.
Alone.
So we have banded together to help her. We cant join her, be we can try and make treading in cement easier. Human nature is amazing to watch. The loudest, most religious person leaves in a huff, refusing to help anymore. The rest forgive her. Because behind her stand the knights, angels, and soldiers. Dedicated, unwavering, and determined. Wearing red bracelets they stand, willing to do the amazing, willing to do the impossible. They look so average. Grandmas, uncles, tattooed bikers, moms, dads. You see this army all the time. In Target, in the grocery store. When I lock eyes with one of the many I am so grateful to be here, human.
Everyday, when I imagine she and I switch roles, I fall short. I am never as strong as she is. I never listen as much as she does. I spend my moments, anxious, staring at the sand in a fast-empting hourglass. She, in my head, is a better friend to the me with ALS. She does more. She is firmer with me. She knows what is best for me and head strongly does it. And I am always so grateful. In real life, where her body has dropped away from her, her spirit has taken its place. People meeting her for the first time stumble out of her house stunned. Her beauty is overwhelming, inspiring , and breath taking. Her patience to enjoy every moment, the energy she saves to be an amazing mother, her playtime making the baby squeal with delight, giggles spilling out of her body like cool, sparkling water, makes you realize you should be doing more with your own life. We have made pacts, she and I, with our eyes and a few words that live in my heart. I am more because she needed me to be. But I am not enough and assuredly not as good at this than she would be. I know she forgives me.
She would.
I am always proud, when someone is quick thinking to act courageously in a time of need. But this slow courage, it is in another league. I think it takes more character than most of us have. To behold it is a gift, a lesson. A masterpiece like I have never seen before.
She did get to Disney, with her kids. My mother
moved heaven and earth and even had the guts to call the Disney VP. And Disney, after hearing my friends story, out of the blue set up four days of meet and greets, special spots in the parades, shows and culminating in being the parade family on Thanksgiving Day. My mother and my Aunt Jo (who is also a cast member) accompanied the family and made sure it all went off without a hitch. I could not have dreamed a better scenario. Having my mom and Aunt Jo in Disney is the equivalent to having two fairy godmothers. They were priceless. Mom called me when the family stepped foot on Main Street. That was an amazing moment. The DISabilities board here will always have my deepest gratitude for all their knowledgeable help in the flurry of plans we made.Before she left for Disney, she told me "If I could run again I would run from my house straight to yours." And I told her about Soarin'. I told her it would be like running and flying all at the same time. And she could not wait. To feel that free again. She rode Soarin' with her whole family with a huge smile and tears streaming down her face.
If you would like to pray for my friend, her name is Erin.
Chapter 19 Nudding Around
Goofyluver
<marquee behavior=alternate><font color=red>Knock
- Joined
- Oct 31, 2006
- Messages
- 19,055
Deb...
Thanks.
That's all I can squeak out...as I sit here bawling like a baby.
Thanks.
Prayers said.
Thanks.
That's all I can squeak out...as I sit here bawling like a baby.
Thanks.
Prayers said.
Mrs. The King
Jiggler Owner
- Joined
- Apr 20, 2008
- Messages
- 913
Deb...
Thanks.
That's all I can squeak out...as I sit here bawling like a baby.
Thanks.
Prayers said.
Thanks! Sorry to make you cry
The prayers mean the world to her and I am so thankful.
mrsksomeday
My Prince uses a power wheelchair!
- Joined
- Jul 4, 2006
- Messages
- 7,785
I like Jen am sitting here with tears streaming down my face.Your Erin sounds a lot like my mom. This installment was wonderfully written. I can see her beauty inside and out from your post. I feel your emotions, I know many of those emotions dealing with my mom. Erin, her family, and you are in my prayers. You are a fantastic friend.
Mrs. The King
Jiggler Owner
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Deb, I will keep Erin and her family in my prayers and also will pray for you and the others who love her so much.
Thank you so very much.
Your Erin sounds a lot like my mom. This installment was wonderfully written. I can see her beauty inside and out from your post. I feel your emotions, I know many of those emotions dealing with my mom. Erin, her family, and you are in my prayers. You are a fantastic friend.
Thank you so much. My prayers to you and your family. I am crying like a baby too.
Baloo
<font color="red"><br>Laughter is the bloom<br>of
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- 4,527
That was beautiful...you are a dear friend Deb to Erin and my heart aches for you.
It really struck a cord in me as my Mom had Alzheimer and I took care of her .She pasted away last Sept.I watched my strong,opinionated,brilliant Mom waste away and it broke my heart.I know it's so hard...
You and Erin and your families are in my prayers.
I need a tissue.
It really struck a cord in me as my Mom had Alzheimer and I took care of her .She pasted away last Sept.I watched my strong,opinionated,brilliant Mom waste away and it broke my heart.I know it's so hard...
You and Erin and your families are in my prayers.
I need a tissue.
Erin has been added, to the list.
The list is the people i pray for.
The people that this stupid and unexplainable stuff should not happen to.
The people who are stronger, than they should ever have to be.
The people who strike me down with their amazing ability to be whole in spite of the fact that they never will be again.
What do you say when you pray for these amazing people?
"Don't let them be forgotten."
The list is the people i pray for.
The people that this stupid and unexplainable stuff should not happen to.
The people who are stronger, than they should ever have to be.
The people who strike me down with their amazing ability to be whole in spite of the fact that they never will be again.
What do you say when you pray for these amazing people?
"Don't let them be forgotten."
TarzansKat
Not all treasure is silver and gold, mate.
- Joined
- Mar 8, 2008
- Messages
- 12,787
Wow.
I just so was not expecting a good cry before work on Saturday!
But it's a good one. And I will certainly, certainly pray for your friend.
And for you, and both your families. God bless.
I just so was not expecting a good cry before work on Saturday!
But it's a good one. And I will certainly, certainly pray for your friend.
And for you, and both your families. God bless.
mkluvsmickey
DIS Veteran
- Joined
- Sep 3, 2007
- Messages
- 3,990
Praying for Erin here too.
That was beautifully written.
That was beautifully written.
coteau_chick
DIS Veteran
- Joined
- Mar 12, 2007
- Messages
- 1,367
I am joining you and the other in praying for Erin and her family. Thank you for sharing her story with us.
My husband's aunt passed away from that disease. It was so sad. Have you read the book Tuesdays With Maury? It is a true story about ALS.
When my friends cry on their birthdays because they think they are getting old I remind them of women like Erin who would trade places with them. My grandmother didn't make it to twenty-seven years old. She died and left four little girls behind. She would have traded places with a crying thirty year old to see her daughters grow up. Life is a precious gift and I cherish every day I am blessed with. I will take my wrinkles and grey hair as badges of honor. It hurts to watch someone you love suffer. I will also pray for God to give you strength to help Erin and her family.
Laura
My husband's aunt passed away from that disease. It was so sad. Have you read the book Tuesdays With Maury? It is a true story about ALS.
When my friends cry on their birthdays because they think they are getting old I remind them of women like Erin who would trade places with them. My grandmother didn't make it to twenty-seven years old. She died and left four little girls behind. She would have traded places with a crying thirty year old to see her daughters grow up. Life is a precious gift and I cherish every day I am blessed with. I will take my wrinkles and grey hair as badges of honor. It hurts to watch someone you love suffer. I will also pray for God to give you strength to help Erin and her family.
Laura
Mrs. The King
Jiggler Owner
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You know, its weird. Lately I have been developing new, annoying habits. Like tonight, I was enjoying a fudgeicle. A yummy, chocolaty, sweet treat. I realize half way through, I was humming. Just humming and eating. Never did this before in my whole life. Maybe it is from the knock on the noggin from the fridge.
I hope this trick doesnt keep up. It could get awkward. And I have enough working against me as it is.
The Kings were knee deep in the park formerly known as MGM.
The clouds were storming in, soggy and sticky like they always promise to be in Florida in July. Just to set the scene, we hit the HSM show in the blistering festering heat, watched the puppets at Playhouse Disney, now we are headed to Disney Animation studio.
Mr. the King will throw in some pictures. (done-MR.TK
)
We listened to our animator tell us the story of Mushu. This is a family favorite ride That is right, we consider it a ride.
I need to toughen these kids up. I think I will start jumping out of their closets at them. Form a sort of hard callus on their fear responses.
By the way. I am in the middle of designing a new fitness program for the world. You are all very welcome. I have decided that, as humans, we have it too easy. Take the fudgicle I was humming over. I strolled up to the freezer, reached in and plucked it out the box. The fudgicle did not run for its life. It lays there happy, waiting to be eaten. Would I eat it if I had to stay crouched in front of the freezer like a cat? My eyes locked on my prey. Waiting for an eternity for it to make a false move? When the fudgicle starts to lose its essential primal fear and hops out on its stick, I would twitch the jiggler once and launch myself at the treat. It would be hopping furiously towards the dining room while I slap it from one hand to another, stunning it into falling forward. Would I still hum if I was huddled up over a dead fudgicle on my laminate floor?
Or better yet!! Maybe, I should have Billy Blanks chase me around instead. If I step to the freezer, he should blast out of my coat closet shouting things like Discipline is remembering what you want most, not what you want now while pummeling me with couch cushions. IF I can make it past him to the freezer, the fudgicle is mine. Maybe I will title this new program Be the Prey. I like it.
Ok. That was a tangent. That never happens. I am all business now.
We were delighted to find that they were showing a clip from Wall*e. Our favorite movie that Disney has decided to not put out any merchandise over. Why not? Who knows. But I do know I can buy crap for the freaking Fairy movie that they have been pimping but not releasing since 1983. Where is the Tinkerbell movie? The merchandise has been out so long you can buy fairy themed nose hair clippers at the dollar store. But the movie? That is just a pipe dream. But Wall*e, an actual movie, shown in actual movie theaters, has nada.
PS wanted to be Eve for Halloween. Great. I was this close to having to earn my engineering and physics degree to design a free floating egg shaped costume out of pipe cleaners and cardboard. Lucky for me she switched to a cat.
Oops. Another tangent slipped out. Pardon me.
So, we were very thrilled when we saw the Wall*e display.
We took many pictures. The rain was pouring down like God was flushing a non water saver toilet repeatedly. We never mind if we are stuck in the game section of Disney Animations. The kids sing, color and find out which character they are most like. (I was Cinderella
rincess:, as it should be, Mr. The King was the Octopus woman)
PC got his picture taken with Frozone
. Next up, we waited to draw our own cartoons. Maybe Mr. The King can scan them up here. Wow, he is getting quite the Honey do list from this chapter. I am decent at copy drawing, and I love that everyone keeps what they make. PC was very surprised that my Minnie 
was cute. The skills kids dont know their parents have. He ran up and asked our animator to show it on the screen. He is too sweet. There were many much, much better than mine, but I love that he liked it.
We made it out to the little courtyard at the exit. We check our clocks. Mother the King had recommended the Dance Party Parade. She told us it was a great experience for the kids. She rarely suggests anything, content to let us choose our own Disney Destiny. So if she was piping up, I knew it must be spectacular.
We claimed a spot between the creepy heads and the large staircase. It was perfect, because we could sit on the low wall and still have front row legs.
The kids were treated to the iconic Mickey heads
on a stick. We got drinks. We did bathroom runs. We twiddled around. 45 minutes can seem like a long stinking time, but the clouds were a soothing blanket between us and the sun.
Grandma eyed the clouds.
It is going to rain and if there is lightening, they cancel the parade.
I glanced back at her. What makes Floridians such perfect weather people? They can stand there and point out lightening strikes like Babe Ruth calling a home run.
Chip!!! PS hollars. No, she did not see him. Which would have been nice, being that she is wearing her Ode to Nuts outfit. Chipis her small beanie style stuffed animal that she brought with her for the day. We got Chip at the tent last time we were in Disney. He was cheap, because he was without Dale. Loved that cheap Chip. Until we got home and any game she played with him centered on all the crying Chip was doing because he could not find Dale. It was depressing. Finally, Grandma scored a pair of Chip and Dale in their Year of a Million Dreams outfits. They were sent in a package. PS and PC get frequent packages from Grandma and Grandpa. Long distance hugs is really what they are. The packages always include Disney items tailored for each person in the house.
So Naked Chip greeted the fancy outfitted Chip and Dale when they arrived. (Suspicious that when dressed to the nines, few Disney characters have the good sense to put pants on. Common sense would suggest if you had a choice between bottoms or a top, you would go with bottoms.)
Naked Chip demanded the immediate nudding of his long lost buddy. He showed no interest in his doppelganger. I attacked Dale with the scissors. He was soon as naked as his friend.
But before we had Dale, we just had Chip. So just Chipwent with us to Disney Studios.
And now he was missing. MIA. Naked, lonely and his only friend in the world up until the fateful package was a little girl sitting on a wall with chocolate on her face.
Mr. the King does a few things without me asking. Naked Chipmunk rescue missions are one of these things. I immediately switch into my spreading parade posture. This is where you try and take enough room up all by yourself, that your significant other will be able to join as if he had never left. Besides large arm gestures and passing gas, this requires a permanent scowl, to discourage late comers trying to hone in on your long wait time front leg position.
Mr. The King is gone for quite a while, backtracking.
I continue displaying like a gorilla on the parade edge, while trying to comfort a panicked PS. Mr. the King returns.
Chiphas been found!!! Mr. the King relates the story. He was hunting around Disney Animations and a helpful Cast member agreed to check the theater when the next group came out. Mr. The King Stood in the desolate Wall*e display. The Cast member loudly cleared his throat and nodded his head in a very definite direction. Mr. The King followed the motion with his eyes. There, face down on a railing was Chip.
In her amazement in seeing any rendering of Wall*e at all, PS had set him down. Their reunion on the wall was charming with lots of hugs and Chip getting a stern talking to about leaving her.
Grandma suddenly pointed to a bloated black cloud, and as if she was Zeus, the sky cooperated by spitting out a showy, pulsing bolt. Followed by a crack. Grandma shrugged knowingly.
Unbeknownst to us, the Parade had begun down on the Main Street of MGM, whatever that sucker is called. I had no idea parades had two speeds, Slow dawdle and Holy Crap. They shoved all the floats into Holy Crap gear. The rain started pouring, Grandma was already under an awning far away from us when the first juicy drop sizzled on my hot head. How did she move that fast? Dry, she shook her head knowingly again.
Which was kind of frustrating. Is there some sort of Floridian pact where you cant tell the outsiders what is going to hit them next? Unless, of course it is a bolt of lightening, which, if we are being honest, is very hard to outrun. (Unless you have purchased my new fitness program.)
So we stayed in our electric rain dancing. Grandma had said it was fun, so I figured we would stick it out to see what she was so excited about. So the Kings started dancing. The awkward dance of pretending we were not in a deadly storm.
It felt a lot like when you are on a dance floor working your moves
, and you bop over to people having a great time in a circle dancing
. But nobody moves to open up a space for you. So you do the whole I am not offended and this isnt weird at all dancing . You throw in a few smiles. But you are outside of the stinking circle, dancing with other dancing butts. Then you slink away for a soda and shove the whole scene to the back of your mind where clogging the toilet at a party and visits to your gynecologist live.
And the people in the parade were smiling. Their bodies were there, but their minds were somewhere else. Parade stars eyes slid right over my awkward dancing family
, stealing glances at the sky and watching to see if any leathery, super tan guests under awnings were pointing at them.
We slosh back to Grandma who informs me that when not in Holy Crap mode, the characters and parade dancers come down off there mobiles to mingle with the kids. It is supposed to be a blast. Well, we tried our best.
We ran for the interconnected stores and then made our way out.
I heard some pitiful crying.
I checked Mr. The King immediately.
Surprisingly, it was not him.
Then I felt the jiggler shaking from grief. The Fudge that it could smell had not been purchased. Poor Jiggler. It had even danced. Oh the humanity, what a rip off. I gave it a hug. Until some people started staring.
Next up: Mini Golf! Disneys secret nugget of fun.
Chapter 20 Go Ahead. Report Me. Everyone is doing it.
I hope this trick doesnt keep up. It could get awkward. And I have enough working against me as it is.
The Kings were knee deep in the park formerly known as MGM.
The clouds were storming in, soggy and sticky like they always promise to be in Florida in July. Just to set the scene, we hit the HSM show in the blistering festering heat, watched the puppets at Playhouse Disney, now we are headed to Disney Animation studio.
Mr. the King will throw in some pictures. (done-MR.TK
)We listened to our animator tell us the story of Mushu. This is a family favorite ride That is right, we consider it a ride.
I need to toughen these kids up. I think I will start jumping out of their closets at them. Form a sort of hard callus on their fear responses.
By the way. I am in the middle of designing a new fitness program for the world. You are all very welcome. I have decided that, as humans, we have it too easy. Take the fudgicle I was humming over. I strolled up to the freezer, reached in and plucked it out the box. The fudgicle did not run for its life. It lays there happy, waiting to be eaten. Would I eat it if I had to stay crouched in front of the freezer like a cat? My eyes locked on my prey. Waiting for an eternity for it to make a false move? When the fudgicle starts to lose its essential primal fear and hops out on its stick, I would twitch the jiggler once and launch myself at the treat. It would be hopping furiously towards the dining room while I slap it from one hand to another, stunning it into falling forward. Would I still hum if I was huddled up over a dead fudgicle on my laminate floor?
Or better yet!! Maybe, I should have Billy Blanks chase me around instead. If I step to the freezer, he should blast out of my coat closet shouting things like Discipline is remembering what you want most, not what you want now while pummeling me with couch cushions. IF I can make it past him to the freezer, the fudgicle is mine. Maybe I will title this new program Be the Prey. I like it.
Ok. That was a tangent. That never happens. I am all business now.
We were delighted to find that they were showing a clip from Wall*e. Our favorite movie that Disney has decided to not put out any merchandise over. Why not? Who knows. But I do know I can buy crap for the freaking Fairy movie that they have been pimping but not releasing since 1983. Where is the Tinkerbell movie? The merchandise has been out so long you can buy fairy themed nose hair clippers at the dollar store. But the movie? That is just a pipe dream. But Wall*e, an actual movie, shown in actual movie theaters, has nada.
PS wanted to be Eve for Halloween. Great. I was this close to having to earn my engineering and physics degree to design a free floating egg shaped costume out of pipe cleaners and cardboard. Lucky for me she switched to a cat.
Oops. Another tangent slipped out. Pardon me.
So, we were very thrilled when we saw the Wall*e display.
We took many pictures. The rain was pouring down like God was flushing a non water saver toilet repeatedly. We never mind if we are stuck in the game section of Disney Animations. The kids sing, color and find out which character they are most like. (I was Cinderella
rincess:, as it should be, Mr. The King was the Octopus woman)PC got his picture taken with Frozone
. Next up, we waited to draw our own cartoons. Maybe Mr. The King can scan them up here. Wow, he is getting quite the Honey do list from this chapter. I am decent at copy drawing, and I love that everyone keeps what they make. PC was very surprised that my Minnie was cute. The skills kids dont know their parents have. He ran up and asked our animator to show it on the screen. He is too sweet. There were many much, much better than mine, but I love that he liked it. We made it out to the little courtyard at the exit. We check our clocks. Mother the King had recommended the Dance Party Parade. She told us it was a great experience for the kids. She rarely suggests anything, content to let us choose our own Disney Destiny. So if she was piping up, I knew it must be spectacular.
We claimed a spot between the creepy heads and the large staircase. It was perfect, because we could sit on the low wall and still have front row legs.
The kids were treated to the iconic Mickey heads
on a stick. We got drinks. We did bathroom runs. We twiddled around. 45 minutes can seem like a long stinking time, but the clouds were a soothing blanket between us and the sun. Grandma
eyed the clouds. It is going to rain and if there is lightening, they cancel the parade.
I glanced back at her. What makes Floridians such perfect weather people? They can stand there and point out lightening strikes like Babe Ruth calling a home run.
Chip!!! PS hollars. No, she did not see him. Which would have been nice, being that she is wearing her Ode to Nuts outfit. Chipis her small beanie style stuffed animal that she brought with her for the day. We got Chip at the tent last time we were in Disney. He was cheap, because he was without Dale. Loved that cheap Chip. Until we got home and any game she played with him centered on all the crying Chip was doing because he could not find Dale. It was depressing. Finally, Grandma scored a pair of Chip and Dale in their Year of a Million Dreams outfits. They were sent in a package. PS and PC get frequent packages from Grandma and Grandpa. Long distance hugs is really what they are. The packages always include Disney items tailored for each person in the house. So Naked Chip greeted the fancy outfitted Chip and Dale when they arrived. (Suspicious that when dressed to the nines, few Disney characters have the good sense to put pants on. Common sense would suggest if you had a choice between bottoms or a top, you would go with bottoms.)
Naked Chip demanded the immediate nudding of his long lost buddy. He showed no interest in his doppelganger. I attacked Dale with the scissors. He was soon as naked as his friend.
But before we had Dale, we just had Chip. So just Chip
went with us to Disney Studios. And now he was missing. MIA. Naked, lonely and his only friend in the world up until the fateful package was a little girl sitting on a wall with chocolate on her face.
Mr. the King does a few things without me asking. Naked Chipmunk rescue missions are one of these things. I immediately switch into my spreading parade posture. This is where you try and take enough room up all by yourself, that your significant other will be able to join as if he had never left. Besides large arm gestures and passing gas, this requires a permanent scowl, to discourage late comers trying to hone in on your long wait time front leg position.
Mr. The King is gone for quite a while, backtracking.
I continue displaying like a gorilla on the parade edge, while trying to comfort a panicked PS. Mr. the King returns.
Chip
has been found!!! Mr. the King relates the story. He was hunting around Disney Animations and a helpful Cast member agreed to check the theater when the next group came out. Mr. The King Stood in the desolate Wall*e display. The Cast member loudly cleared his throat and nodded his head in a very definite direction. Mr. The King followed the motion with his eyes. There, face down on a railing was Chip.
In her amazement in seeing any rendering of Wall*e at all, PS had set him down. Their reunion on the wall was charming with lots of hugs and Chip getting a stern talking to about leaving her.
Grandma
suddenly pointed to a bloated black cloud, and as if she was Zeus, the sky cooperated by spitting out a showy, pulsing bolt. Followed by a crack. Grandma shrugged knowingly.Unbeknownst to us, the Parade had begun down on the Main Street of MGM, whatever that sucker is called. I had no idea parades had two speeds, Slow dawdle and Holy Crap. They shoved all the floats into Holy Crap gear. The rain started pouring, Grandma was already under an awning far away from us when the first juicy drop sizzled on my hot head. How did she move that fast? Dry, she shook her head knowingly again.
Which was kind of frustrating. Is there some sort of Floridian pact where you cant tell the outsiders what is going to hit them next? Unless, of course it is a bolt of lightening, which, if we are being honest, is very hard to outrun. (Unless you have purchased my new fitness program.) So we stayed in our electric rain dancing. Grandma had said it was fun, so I figured we would stick it out to see what she was so excited about. So the Kings started dancing. The awkward dance of pretending we were not in a deadly storm.
It felt a lot like when you are on a dance floor working your moves
, and you bop over to people having a great time in a circle dancing . But nobody moves to open up a space for you. So you do the whole I am not offended and this isnt weird at all dancing . You throw in a few smiles. But you are outside of the stinking circle, dancing with other dancing butts. Then you slink away for a soda and shove the whole scene to the back of your mind where clogging the toilet at a party and visits to your gynecologist live.And the people in the parade were smiling. Their bodies were there, but their minds were somewhere else. Parade stars eyes slid right over my awkward dancing family
, stealing glances at the sky and watching to see if any leathery, super tan guests under awnings were pointing at them.We slosh back to Grandma who informs me that when not in Holy Crap mode, the characters and parade dancers come down off there mobiles to mingle with the kids. It is supposed to be a blast. Well, we tried our best.
We ran for the interconnected stores and then made our way out.
I heard some pitiful crying.
I checked Mr. The King immediately.
Surprisingly, it was not him.
Then I felt the jiggler shaking from grief. The Fudge that it could smell had not been purchased. Poor Jiggler. It had even danced
. Oh the humanity, what a rip off. I gave it a hug. Until some people started staring.Next up: Mini Golf! Disneys secret nugget of fun.
Chapter 20 Go Ahead. Report Me. Everyone is doing it.
Mrs. The King
Jiggler Owner
- Joined
- Apr 20, 2008
- Messages
- 913
You're too sweet! I don't want to take up space on your trip report. Perhaps I'll do a little flashback on mine...
I love the space you take up!! But Flashbacks in yours sounds awesome!!!
I am glad my armpits amuse you and her.
I am not brave enough to post our pictures and I am too stupid to edit us out to of the video. I wish I did post pictures, beacuse I always love getting to know who is writing. I hope you will forgive me
I have never really had an urge to try Chef Mickey's becasue of all of the reviews contradicting each other. It seems to be a love it or hate it place. After your story though it seems like it might be a place DS would like. I will have to put it on the maybe list for next year
Three cheers for a maybe!!! Maybes can go either way!!
I wish I had had the big pen to offer, I wound up just worrying over the sharpie. I wonder if you are still here?
Gosh we had a ball. We go ever time. I hope you love it.
thanks scott
Great news!
Good eyes! PS insisted I include Clarice.
I bet you will have a wonderful time. We never celebrated a birthday there. What fun.
Mrs. The King
Jiggler Owner
- Joined
- Apr 20, 2008
- Messages
- 913
That was beautiful...you are a dear friend Deb to Erin and my heart aches for you.
It really struck a cord in me as my Mom had Alzheimer and I took care of her .She pasted away last Sept.I watched my strong,opinionated,brilliant Mom waste away and it broke my heart.I know it's so hard...
You and Erin and your families are in my prayers.
I need a tissue.
I am sorry that this rings true for you Baloo
I appreciate our prayers for Erin so very much. Thank you for sharing about your Mom. Erin has been added, to the list.
The list is the people i pray for.
The people that this stupid and unexplainable stuff should not happen to.
The people who are stronger, than they should ever have to be.
The people who strike me down with their amazing ability to be whole in spite of the fact that they never will be again.
What do you say when you pray for these amazing people?
"Don't let them be forgotten."
Well that was so beautiful. Thank you so much from me and her
Wow.
I just so was not expecting a good cry before work on Saturday!
But it's a good one. And I will certainly, certainly pray for your friend.
And for you, and both your families. God bless.
Sorry to make you bust a cry
Thank you so much for your prayers. Deb that was beautifully written, you are an amazing friend and I'll be thinking of Erin and her family
Thanks Jo. You rock
Thank you for telling me this touched you.
Thank you!
And thank you for the prayers. I am joining you and the other in praying for Erin and her family. Thank you for sharing her story with us.
My husband's aunt passed away from that disease. It was so sad. Have you read the book Tuesdays With Maury? It is a true story about ALS.
When my friends cry on their birthdays because they think they are getting old I remind them of women like Erin who would trade places with them. My grandmother didn't make it to twenty-seven years old. She died and left four little girls behind. She would have traded places with a crying thirty year old to see her daughters grow up. Life is a precious gift and I cherish every day I am blessed with. I will take my wrinkles and grey hair as badges of honor. It hurts to watch someone you love suffer. I will also pray for God to give you strength to help Erin and her family.
Laura
Sweet Laura, I did read Tuesday's about Morrie. What an amazing guy. I read it before she had ALS and I can't bring myself to read it again now. Maybe someday. Thank you for sharing about your Grandma. I think any of us that learn to cherish our moments are winners
Thank you for your prayers!!And a quick word to all of you, thank you for reading about Erin. I find sometimes I can't sleep and when I write it puts my worries or expresses an emotion so I can get it out of my mind and to bed. I thank you for letting me have that outlet. I even got my funny on tonight for a what I hope is a readable chapter
carrieannie
DIS Veteran
- Joined
- Jun 4, 2007
- Messages
- 4,726
Deb, Your writing is beautiful! Erin is very special person. She will be in my prayers.
I will go back now to read your latest update.
BTW: I love,love HSM!!!
Never seen the show at DHS though.
I will go back now to read your latest update.
BTW: I love,love HSM!!!
Never seen the show at DHS though.
carrieannie
DIS Veteran
- Joined
- Jun 4, 2007
- Messages
- 4,726
I lied! I`m tired and still have to iron Hubbys uniform. I will read the latest update tomorrow. well, today, since its 12:20 A.M already....
coteau_chick
DIS Veteran
- Joined
- Mar 12, 2007
- Messages
- 1,367
I just wanted to say something else about Erin's cituation. You are doing the right thing. You are being there for her when she needs you the most. You are praying for her. You are loving her. She is blessed to have a friend like you. My cousin Lisa who is also my best friend had ovarian cancer. When they found out it was also in her uterus and her apendix and a spot on her liver. She had two surgeries and a year of chemo. When she was down she would drive the hour and a half to visit me. She would call me and say I need some porch time. I have a nice swing on my porch and when she visits we drink coffee and talk. We laugh and cry. I just let her be herself. She can tell me anything. She holds her tears in alot not to upset her family. We made a decision that we are going to be next door neighbors in heaven. We are both going to have a swing and a porch there and we will visit everyday. She was doing fine for about a year but now her blood work is not too good. She is going to have another MRI in a couple of weeks. I am praying it is nothing. One weekend she had come to stay with me and had left. I was in my house crying because we always cry when we have to say goodbye. My phone rang and it was Lisa. She was laughing and she said go look outside. When I went to the front door she was standing in the road laughing. What happened was she had taken her wig off because it was hot. She put it on top of her car when she was hugging me bye. She forgot it and drove off. When she realized what she had done she had to go back to look for it. She found it in the ditch in front of my house. We laughed until we peeed . Laughter through tears is so awesome. One minute you are boo hooing and the next you can't breath because you are laughing so hard.
I told Lisa I used to be scared to die until this happened to me. I already told you about my grandmother dying young. Well her husband lived until he was sixty something. He had lung cancer and I went to stay with him. My aunt and I were on a death watch. My step grandmother was worn out and we sent her to bed. My aunt fell asleep and I was just watching my Paw paw sleep. He hadn't opened his eyes for a couple of days. He suddenly opened his eyes and was looking at the ceiling. He was definitely looking at something. I went wake up my step grandmother and my aunt. My step grandmother told him it was ok he could go. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes and he was gone. The only other moment in my life I can compare this moment to is when I was in the delivery room with my SIL. It was that kind of special moment. I have read that when you are born God is in the room and he breaths your first breath into you and when you die he is right there and he takes your last breath back from you. I believe it. It was one of the most sacred moments in my life. I really felt God that morning. I never thought of death the same after that moment.
I just want to tell you one more thing. My mom's best friend died two years ago. I never told her about Lisa and my plan to live next door to each other in heaven. Well I had a dream that my mom's friend came and told me bye and she loved me and she would visit me on my porch swing in heaven. When I woke up the phone rang and I got the news that she had died during the night.
Death is not the end of our life we just move on. Just continue to be there for Erin and love her. Let her just unleash all her tears and worries on you. Listen to her be there for her. I am going to pray for a miracle. It just breaks my heart to think of her leaving her precious children.
I told Lisa I used to be scared to die until this happened to me. I already told you about my grandmother dying young. Well her husband lived until he was sixty something. He had lung cancer and I went to stay with him. My aunt and I were on a death watch. My step grandmother was worn out and we sent her to bed. My aunt fell asleep and I was just watching my Paw paw sleep. He hadn't opened his eyes for a couple of days. He suddenly opened his eyes and was looking at the ceiling. He was definitely looking at something. I went wake up my step grandmother and my aunt. My step grandmother told him it was ok he could go. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes and he was gone. The only other moment in my life I can compare this moment to is when I was in the delivery room with my SIL. It was that kind of special moment. I have read that when you are born God is in the room and he breaths your first breath into you and when you die he is right there and he takes your last breath back from you. I believe it. It was one of the most sacred moments in my life. I really felt God that morning. I never thought of death the same after that moment.
I just want to tell you one more thing. My mom's best friend died two years ago. I never told her about Lisa and my plan to live next door to each other in heaven. Well I had a dream that my mom's friend came and told me bye and she loved me and she would visit me on my porch swing in heaven. When I woke up the phone rang and I got the news that she had died during the night.
Death is not the end of our life we just move on. Just continue to be there for Erin and love her. Let her just unleash all her tears and worries on you. Listen to her be there for her. I am going to pray for a miracle. It just breaks my heart to think of her leaving her precious children.
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