January 6 Tuesday. The day started out O.K. Plans were to be up, fed and ready to leave the resort at 8:30. I kept waking up all night, but finally got up at 7:00, hoping that was enough sleep. I got showered and dressed, gathered the mugs then got breakfast, two kids meals and one adult to split, plus extra biscuits. The breakfasts are always much bigger than needed. We ate in the room and finally managed to gather everyone together after more runs to the food court for more coffee and to feed Angel and Rack. Everyone is finally up and ready at 9:45, but the edges are a bit frayed, not enough sleep and too-high-strung.
We arrived at Epcot at 10:00. We are still in rush attitude, you know, that way you feel when you are not on vacation. Rushing around, testy and stressed. After all the major mess last night with the computers and tickets, Peter and my cards still dont work, we are pulled to the side and wait 15 min for the ticket-makers at Epcot to finally give up also and give us Park Hopper tickets to use for the day. We finally race, ha, reality, we proceed painfully slowly to Mission Mars, thinking the place will be mobbed. We parked Gma at the benches near Mouse Gear and gave her our hats. She has no desire to ride Space or Test Track. We went to Mission Space, got Fast Passes, then rode Test Track after a short wait. Luckily, the crowds will not be bad for all of our stay. Rack and Angel enjoyed Test Track, their first time on this ride. Everyone liked Mission Space, the blast-off was great, but it made me sicker as the ride continued. I might have been O.K. if the ride had been shorter, or maybe if I had not known how it worked. Made me hot, sweaty and sick. My stomach felt lousy for nearly an hour afterward. A new experience for me with a Disney ride of any type. Then the first fight of the day. Pick up Gma, and no hats. She must have lost them in the restroom. Gone are two brand new Harry Potter baseball caps from the day of book release and my denim cap. I was so mad. We go back to guest services to see if they have been turned in. Knew it would cost $60 to replace them. The kids did not have sun block on. I couldnt go without a hat because my skin burns like crazy from the retin-A I use. Gma bought replacement hats for us in Mouse Gear, but was now mad at me because I got mad at her. Just REALLY did not want her to spend $60 for three new hats, but no choice. Picked out one for myself with Tinkerbell on it that says: Mood subject to change without notice. Perfect for todays peri-menpausal woman, from the sublime of being at WDW to wanting to chew nails. Of course Gma was totally shocked at the prices, too. Now everyone is mad at everyone. Welcome to the world of WDW shopping. We got in line for Universe of Energy, but we, meaning Peter, decided wait was too long. It is better to walk half the park for hours than to stand in one line. He is not, and never will be, a patient waiter. Except when he is taking videos or pictures. Which he does constantly, which he takes a long time doing, which we are all required to wait patiently for him to do and NEVER complain about. Which added immeasurably to the fun of this day. So we jump out of line. Kids are driving us crazy bugging us to go the Ice Station Cool. We are about ready to scream, but give in. The pop does nothing to help my stomach. Walked to Norway and rode Maelstrom. Kids played on the Viking ship and we split a sweet pretzel. Allowed everyone a bathroom break. We have found with groups this large that everyone must be FORCED to take bathroom breaks all-at-once-I-dont care-if-you-dont-have-to-go-we-are-NOT-stopping-again, snack breaks all-at-once-the-choices-are-ice-cream-or-nothing-we-are-not-stopping-at-another-cart or we spend the day waiting for one person at a time to find a restroom or Mickey bar. It is 2:00 and we have managed to ride three rides and walk a long way.
Then Peter wants to see American Adventure and the day becomes farcical. We rush (or as close a facsimile as we can muster, i.e. snails pace) due to a PS at Coral Reef we will probably miss if we see the show. In we all go, perfect timing, we are all escorted upstairs with the wheelchair. We hear the singers, but half-way through Gma decides to get out of her wheelchair and go to the bathroom, Gameboy is complaining about needing to do the same, but we dont let him go. Angel takes off after Gma to give me a break, Gma tends to get lost or trips on things and we are not comfortable letting her take off alone, or we feel guilty if she goes alone. Well, the singers end and it is time to enter the theater. No Angel or Gma. We take the wheelchair, thinking well meet up with them outside after, knowing this is where the restrooms are, knowing Angel and Gma wont be allowed in. Rack, Peter, Gameboy, Whistler and I sit down for the show. The figures of Mark Twain and Benjamin Franklin rise and Peter realizes he has lost the daypack with the digital camera and video cameras in it. Out he rushes to find it, before I know what is happening. I realize that Whistler has the daypack on his lap, so I hustle everyone after him. We get to the front of the theater and Peter is gone, maybe upstairs to look. Rack races after him. We go back inside to find everyone and all manage, miraculously, to meet up. Peter complains bitterly about wanting to see the show, how weve missed it the last few years, so the CM kindly leads us in with her flashlight to sit in the back row to see the last half of the show. (Thank you, thank you, unknown CM, you kept Peter from having a complete melt-down.) And surprise, Angel thought the singers were the whole show, hence the trip to the restroom! We were glad to see some of it. It really is one of Epcots best.
We truck clear back across Epcot to the Coral Reef, they let us in even though it is very late for lunch and we are 15 minutes late for our P.S. We keep trying to reach my cousin, who we know has arrived at the Pop Century and was supposed to call us on our cell phones, but has not called or checked messages left in his room. Peter is gone half the meal trying to call the Pop to find Manchild. We worry about Manchild because we know he is wandering around lost somewhere, hes done it before. We finally give up and eat.
Good lunch at Coral Reef, slow service. Pricey. But a nice cool-off after rushing madly for half the day and seeing very little and irritating each other all day. Our reservations had been for France, to make a slow circuit around World Showcase, but Rack had requested this restaurant today, about the only thing he asked for the whole trip. Worth the trip back across the park to please him. After lunch we walk out to find the day has gone from sunny to cold, windy and grey, and, of course, the jackets are in the car. We go through the Living Seas, looking for the ride, to no avail, since it seems to be gone. But we do like this attraction. It is very calming to watch the manatees. By now it is nearly 4:00. We are worried about Manchild and cold.
So we go back to the Pop Century, call the switchboard looking for Manchild, and just as we go to write a message at Guest Services, since they will not tell us his room number, he shows up at our door. His room is next door to us. Turns out he went to Epcot but left our phone number in his car. We tell him the plan is to spend the evening at the Magic Kingdom. Of course it is 50 degrees and he has on shorts, a short-sleeved shirt and sandals. He has not brought a sweater or anything warm. This guy LIVES in Florida. Gma does not want to go, she is too miserable and cold, so I go to the food court and get her some carrot cake and crackers and cheese and some white zinfandel. Well, the rest of us put on fleece warmers and hooded double layer jackets and head off to Magic Kingdom. Manchild says hell be fine. We have nothing to loan him. He is much larger than us and we only have one warm thing each. Try to convince him to buy something in the gift shop, but he will not. This is the only night of the week for Spectromagic and Wishes. So off we go anyway.
We arrive at the Park, see the parade from below the train station, since Manchild has some mobility issues and we barely make it there in time. Then, parade over, Manchild steps off the curb wrong and hits the ground with a thud. We take him to first-aid where they clean up his bloody knee and ice it. Lucky, he fell so hard we were all expecting much worse. They loan us a wheelchair and we find a sliver of space near the Crystal Palace and first-aid to try to see the fireworks. We have made it out of first-aid in just enough time to see the fireworks. The kids have been nagging me constantly for a treat, so I make Peter take them to find ice cream before the fireworks. Of course, they do not return. Manchild is sitting in the wheelchair and too hard to move so Rack, Angel, MC and I watch the fireworks from in front of the Crystal Palace. A lousy choice. They do not dim the lights and there is a large tree, the only large one, I think, between us and the fireworks. No wonder there was space left here. Peter and the kids return and tell us how much better their view was, thanks-so-much. Oh well, it was still nice to see Spectromagic and what we could of Wishes. We take the ferry back, and MC is freezing, and kind of testy.
We drive back to the POP. Rack and Peter go to Pleasure Island. Angel goes to bed, William retreats to his room, limping. The kids start in on me, wanting to go to the pool. Gma starts in on me because she has constipation, and she claims I didnt pack her laxative, I show her she does have it, in the case where she has been searching frantically, probably the whole time we were gone. Everyone is mad at everyone again. Then, since I didnt get ice cream during the fireworks, I take some of the leftover cake in Gma's fridge and stick it on a plate, pour a plastic cup of Gma's awful white zinfandel wine and place it on my bedside table. I close the connecting doors. I get the kids in jammies and into bed where they fall asleep instantly. I finish unpacking, then sit down to eat my food and hit the edge of the plate flipping the whole thing onto the carpet, cake frosting-side-down. I clean it up, hurling the leftovers into the trash, chugging the awful wine, wishing it was a martini and I had ten of them. I climb into bed, perfect end of a perfect day at Walt Disney World with the extended family. But trust me, the next day does get better. Well, sort of.
Carla (aka Tink)
We arrived at Epcot at 10:00. We are still in rush attitude, you know, that way you feel when you are not on vacation. Rushing around, testy and stressed. After all the major mess last night with the computers and tickets, Peter and my cards still dont work, we are pulled to the side and wait 15 min for the ticket-makers at Epcot to finally give up also and give us Park Hopper tickets to use for the day. We finally race, ha, reality, we proceed painfully slowly to Mission Mars, thinking the place will be mobbed. We parked Gma at the benches near Mouse Gear and gave her our hats. She has no desire to ride Space or Test Track. We went to Mission Space, got Fast Passes, then rode Test Track after a short wait. Luckily, the crowds will not be bad for all of our stay. Rack and Angel enjoyed Test Track, their first time on this ride. Everyone liked Mission Space, the blast-off was great, but it made me sicker as the ride continued. I might have been O.K. if the ride had been shorter, or maybe if I had not known how it worked. Made me hot, sweaty and sick. My stomach felt lousy for nearly an hour afterward. A new experience for me with a Disney ride of any type. Then the first fight of the day. Pick up Gma, and no hats. She must have lost them in the restroom. Gone are two brand new Harry Potter baseball caps from the day of book release and my denim cap. I was so mad. We go back to guest services to see if they have been turned in. Knew it would cost $60 to replace them. The kids did not have sun block on. I couldnt go without a hat because my skin burns like crazy from the retin-A I use. Gma bought replacement hats for us in Mouse Gear, but was now mad at me because I got mad at her. Just REALLY did not want her to spend $60 for three new hats, but no choice. Picked out one for myself with Tinkerbell on it that says: Mood subject to change without notice. Perfect for todays peri-menpausal woman, from the sublime of being at WDW to wanting to chew nails. Of course Gma was totally shocked at the prices, too. Now everyone is mad at everyone. Welcome to the world of WDW shopping. We got in line for Universe of Energy, but we, meaning Peter, decided wait was too long. It is better to walk half the park for hours than to stand in one line. He is not, and never will be, a patient waiter. Except when he is taking videos or pictures. Which he does constantly, which he takes a long time doing, which we are all required to wait patiently for him to do and NEVER complain about. Which added immeasurably to the fun of this day. So we jump out of line. Kids are driving us crazy bugging us to go the Ice Station Cool. We are about ready to scream, but give in. The pop does nothing to help my stomach. Walked to Norway and rode Maelstrom. Kids played on the Viking ship and we split a sweet pretzel. Allowed everyone a bathroom break. We have found with groups this large that everyone must be FORCED to take bathroom breaks all-at-once-I-dont care-if-you-dont-have-to-go-we-are-NOT-stopping-again, snack breaks all-at-once-the-choices-are-ice-cream-or-nothing-we-are-not-stopping-at-another-cart or we spend the day waiting for one person at a time to find a restroom or Mickey bar. It is 2:00 and we have managed to ride three rides and walk a long way.
Then Peter wants to see American Adventure and the day becomes farcical. We rush (or as close a facsimile as we can muster, i.e. snails pace) due to a PS at Coral Reef we will probably miss if we see the show. In we all go, perfect timing, we are all escorted upstairs with the wheelchair. We hear the singers, but half-way through Gma decides to get out of her wheelchair and go to the bathroom, Gameboy is complaining about needing to do the same, but we dont let him go. Angel takes off after Gma to give me a break, Gma tends to get lost or trips on things and we are not comfortable letting her take off alone, or we feel guilty if she goes alone. Well, the singers end and it is time to enter the theater. No Angel or Gma. We take the wheelchair, thinking well meet up with them outside after, knowing this is where the restrooms are, knowing Angel and Gma wont be allowed in. Rack, Peter, Gameboy, Whistler and I sit down for the show. The figures of Mark Twain and Benjamin Franklin rise and Peter realizes he has lost the daypack with the digital camera and video cameras in it. Out he rushes to find it, before I know what is happening. I realize that Whistler has the daypack on his lap, so I hustle everyone after him. We get to the front of the theater and Peter is gone, maybe upstairs to look. Rack races after him. We go back inside to find everyone and all manage, miraculously, to meet up. Peter complains bitterly about wanting to see the show, how weve missed it the last few years, so the CM kindly leads us in with her flashlight to sit in the back row to see the last half of the show. (Thank you, thank you, unknown CM, you kept Peter from having a complete melt-down.) And surprise, Angel thought the singers were the whole show, hence the trip to the restroom! We were glad to see some of it. It really is one of Epcots best.
We truck clear back across Epcot to the Coral Reef, they let us in even though it is very late for lunch and we are 15 minutes late for our P.S. We keep trying to reach my cousin, who we know has arrived at the Pop Century and was supposed to call us on our cell phones, but has not called or checked messages left in his room. Peter is gone half the meal trying to call the Pop to find Manchild. We worry about Manchild because we know he is wandering around lost somewhere, hes done it before. We finally give up and eat.
Good lunch at Coral Reef, slow service. Pricey. But a nice cool-off after rushing madly for half the day and seeing very little and irritating each other all day. Our reservations had been for France, to make a slow circuit around World Showcase, but Rack had requested this restaurant today, about the only thing he asked for the whole trip. Worth the trip back across the park to please him. After lunch we walk out to find the day has gone from sunny to cold, windy and grey, and, of course, the jackets are in the car. We go through the Living Seas, looking for the ride, to no avail, since it seems to be gone. But we do like this attraction. It is very calming to watch the manatees. By now it is nearly 4:00. We are worried about Manchild and cold.
So we go back to the Pop Century, call the switchboard looking for Manchild, and just as we go to write a message at Guest Services, since they will not tell us his room number, he shows up at our door. His room is next door to us. Turns out he went to Epcot but left our phone number in his car. We tell him the plan is to spend the evening at the Magic Kingdom. Of course it is 50 degrees and he has on shorts, a short-sleeved shirt and sandals. He has not brought a sweater or anything warm. This guy LIVES in Florida. Gma does not want to go, she is too miserable and cold, so I go to the food court and get her some carrot cake and crackers and cheese and some white zinfandel. Well, the rest of us put on fleece warmers and hooded double layer jackets and head off to Magic Kingdom. Manchild says hell be fine. We have nothing to loan him. He is much larger than us and we only have one warm thing each. Try to convince him to buy something in the gift shop, but he will not. This is the only night of the week for Spectromagic and Wishes. So off we go anyway.
We arrive at the Park, see the parade from below the train station, since Manchild has some mobility issues and we barely make it there in time. Then, parade over, Manchild steps off the curb wrong and hits the ground with a thud. We take him to first-aid where they clean up his bloody knee and ice it. Lucky, he fell so hard we were all expecting much worse. They loan us a wheelchair and we find a sliver of space near the Crystal Palace and first-aid to try to see the fireworks. We have made it out of first-aid in just enough time to see the fireworks. The kids have been nagging me constantly for a treat, so I make Peter take them to find ice cream before the fireworks. Of course, they do not return. Manchild is sitting in the wheelchair and too hard to move so Rack, Angel, MC and I watch the fireworks from in front of the Crystal Palace. A lousy choice. They do not dim the lights and there is a large tree, the only large one, I think, between us and the fireworks. No wonder there was space left here. Peter and the kids return and tell us how much better their view was, thanks-so-much. Oh well, it was still nice to see Spectromagic and what we could of Wishes. We take the ferry back, and MC is freezing, and kind of testy.
We drive back to the POP. Rack and Peter go to Pleasure Island. Angel goes to bed, William retreats to his room, limping. The kids start in on me, wanting to go to the pool. Gma starts in on me because she has constipation, and she claims I didnt pack her laxative, I show her she does have it, in the case where she has been searching frantically, probably the whole time we were gone. Everyone is mad at everyone again. Then, since I didnt get ice cream during the fireworks, I take some of the leftover cake in Gma's fridge and stick it on a plate, pour a plastic cup of Gma's awful white zinfandel wine and place it on my bedside table. I close the connecting doors. I get the kids in jammies and into bed where they fall asleep instantly. I finish unpacking, then sit down to eat my food and hit the edge of the plate flipping the whole thing onto the carpet, cake frosting-side-down. I clean it up, hurling the leftovers into the trash, chugging the awful wine, wishing it was a martini and I had ten of them. I climb into bed, perfect end of a perfect day at Walt Disney World with the extended family. But trust me, the next day does get better. Well, sort of.
Carla (aka Tink)
