Thursday, March 1, 2012

Once Upon A Time (Disney Day 1)

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Once upon a time, there were three little girls who left their small home in the west for the big world of Disney in Orlando, Florida. They flew on an airplane, wandered through an enormously beautiful lobby to find their hotel room, dined with Mickey and Minnie, were transformed into princesses by fairy godmothers, road Splash Mountain nine times, and discovered the unimaginable joy of someone leaving chocolate on their pillow... every... night.

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As tempting as it is to write like the Brothers Grimm for the rest of this post, I'm going to snap out of fairy tale mode and tell you, in my own voice, the true story (or saga) of our three little princesses.

The sign at the entrance of the Magic Kingdom reads true. This is the place for memories.

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The first night we arrived, we dropped our bags in our room and scurried off to board the monorail so we could meet Mickey and Minnie for dinner. It was the perfect way to begin our stay. The girls were so excited to see Minnie.

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Donald was my favorite. When he saw Ali and Sami, he held up two fingers to ask if they were twins. They nodded and said, "We have twin brothers too!" Donald threw his arms into the air, then circled his fingers around his head while gesturing to me, saying, "You must be cuckoo!" I laughed because he was spot on. I am cuckoo.

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After dinner we explored our hotel, the Grand Floridian, which was lovely. But here's the scoop when it comes to cost (we'd probably stay somewhere cheaper next time). When you stay here, you're mostly paying for convenience. We were a three-minute boat ride (or one monorail stop) away from the Magic Kingdom. Easy access to everywhere we wanted to go. We could see Cinderella's castle from outside our hotel room and the pool area was fabulous. The rooms were nothing extraordinary, but the lobby and the grounds? Worth swooning over. They had live music every evening. Check out the man in tux and tails sitting at the grand piano, center lobby. He was playing tunes straight out of the twenties some nights. Other nights it was a live band. Charming. And we couldn't help but dance as we made our way to the elevator each evening.


A better peek at the hotel.

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The lobby is over five stories high with white gingerbread trim and two stained-glass domes above the chandeliers. This was taken from the second floor, looking up at one of the chandeliers.

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Victorian in feel, the Grand Floridian has its own white sand beach and all the flavor of the roaring twenties.

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I loved this vintage, rusted ferris-wheel.

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This is Ali and Sami, hanging out in the lobby the morning of our first big day. Sami looking up (and up, and up).

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Our first stop? Downtown Disney for appointments with three fairy godmothers at the Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boutique.

Here's where the story takes a turn towards saga. I assumed the hairstyling at the boutique would be personalized. You know, look at the girls' hair, use their curls for a cute up-do, put on a crown, and sprinkle with fairy dust.

Well, I was wrong. You have three hairstyles to choose from. That's it. And there's no bending the rules. (I tried.) They are:

Super-slick, bun-on-top-of-the-head, have-a-headache-at-the-end-of-the-day-do

The punk-rocker princess

or the

Faux-colored-hair-piece princess

I hope I don't offend anyone here, but all three were well, not very becoming of all the darling innocents sitting in salon chairs.

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We opted for the most subdued look. Super slick bun on top of your head. Wow. I have NEVER seen so much gel in my life. I tried to tell the fairy godmothers that my girls' hair was kinda short and maybe it wouldn't fit up in a bun, and could we leave some of it down and curly? Nope. No can do. They had a plan. And in their defense, I'm sure they aren't allowed to do anything but those three hair-dos.

Lydia here, was very sweet with Ali, and told her all sorts of princess trivia I'd never heard before.

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Sami's hair took the longest to pull into a bun. If you could zoom in you would see tiny tears leaking out the corners of her eyes. How she managed not to squeal I will never know. All that pulling and slicking and bobby-pinning. Yeow!

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As I watched them transform, blue eye shadow and all, I bit my bottom lip and looked away. I leaned over to Doug and said, "I don't know if I should laugh... or cry. They look like... like... concentration camp victims." Am I awful? Bibbidi-Bobbidi- BOO!

I had to force a smile when they were done. Me, the mom who wears lipstick every day (rarely reapplied in a twenty-four hour window) and mascara on occasion, but that's it. I'm not fussy over make-up and I kinda prefer the natural look (my sisters would say I could benefit from a little more fuss). But yowsers... I wasn't prepared for this.

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And I'm not sure the girls were either. When their fairy godmothers spun their chairs around to face the mirror, fairy dust still hanging in the air, the girls smiled but said nothing. I had no idea what they were thinking.

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Here they are seeing themselves in the full length mirror for the first time. Stone face. Except for Ali who was making kissy-faces with her newly glossed smackers.

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The favorite accessory? This jeweled Mickey Mouse pin that Lydia told them has a colored jewel for each of the Disney princesses.

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I was still feeling slightly horrified as we got on the bus to make our way back to the monorail, but the girls seemed happy (albeit surprised) with their princess make-over.

We had a luncheon with Cinderella to attend, and the clock was ticking.

As we passed more and more people, everyone oohed and aaahed over the three little princesses and their new look, and I began to ease up. Everyone else was doing a dandy job of making them feel special. And that's all that mattered, right? If they felt beautiful and special, then Bibbidi-Bobbidi had done their job just fine. So I tried not to cringe every time I looked at that sticky cinnamon bun on top of their heads, and we told them they were the most beautiful princesses in the world.

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This moment though? This was worth every minute of gel and combing. When we walked into Cinderella's Castle, a woman told us Cinderella would be out shortly to meet the girls. Seconds later, she whisked past us and the world (for our girls) stopped spinning. They craned their necks forward, their eyes bulged out and their jaws opened. They were mesmerized. And I have to say, Cinderella was everything we hoped she would be. I had to pry their hands off the railing so we could take our turn meeting her. It was truly magical.

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So sweet. And don't those New Balance Runners make their dresses shine?

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A big hug until next time.

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After meeting Cinderella, we took the spiral staircase up to the dining hall where we met...

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Belle. (Ali's favorite.)

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And Aurora. (Sami's favorite. Sam was already tired of pictures at this point. Can you tell?)

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We also met Jasmine and Ariel, and Eliza's favorite (Cinderella), who met us at the castle door. For dessert, they decorated their own cupcakes and waved their wishing wand in the air.

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Those fairy godmothers from the boutique must have done more good than I thought because just before we left the luncheon Eliza said to me, "Mom, do you know how to make wishes come true?" I said, "No. How?" Clear as a bell she whispered into my ear, "Best Behavior."

What perfect advice. "You couldn't be more right" I told her.

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We rode the Carousel.

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Then we skipped over to the tea cups. And it was that minute, while we were skipping and laughing, and I was holding Sami's hand, that the magic of this place caught up with me. Sam, yelled out, "This is the BEST DAY EVER!" And all three girls ran ahead to get in line. I watched them running, their sparkly dresses flying, and suddenly Ali stopped to turn around and reach for my hand. She looked up at me, eyes twinkling, and I thought, "I am so grateful I have children. I wouldn't want to miss this for the world!"

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We waited in line for a very long time to see this beautiful Pixie. But it was worth it!

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We rode every ride we had time for, the lines were short, and as the moon was rising we made our way past Cinderella's Castle. "When You Wish Upon A Star" was gliding through the air and everyone was happy. What a day.

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I just happened to look to my right as we were passing the Castle and saw Tiana and Prince Navine, all by themselves, under a white gazebo. We hurried over to greet them and they were as charming as could be. With no others waiting in line, they took their time asking the girls about their day, their favorite rides, the princess luncheon. Never breaking character (Navine had a very good accent), they made our night.

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The Castle, draped in Christmas lights, was something else.

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Even Main Street was decked out in Holiday fare.

When we got back to the lobby, a mother and her little girl joined us in the elevator. Her daughter was wearing a princess dress, and her hair was pulled into a darling bun with ringlets hanging down and a simple tiara on top. I raised an eyebrow and asked, "Did you do her hair yourself?" "Oh no," she replied. "We just made an appointment at The Trellis upstairs." The Ivy Trellis is the in-house salon. And guess what? It is cheaper, less wait, and only one stop away from the Magic Kingdom. My recommendation? Try The Trellis.

But would we do it all again? Absolutely.

Thursday, February 23, 2012

To Be Civilized

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Need an inspiring story today? Click over to Segullah. I am writing about Vedran Smailovic and his brave stand for the dignity of human life.

Oh, and be sure to listen to this while you read.


Wednesday, February 22, 2012

End of Day

He looked so dapper on Monday as my Mom stacked his round body, wrapped his scarf, and placed a black hat atop his head. While I peeled wet socks from little feet to make lunch, my Mom stayed outside and built her first snowman of the season. (You'd never guess we lived in the mountains, we've had such little snow this winter.)

Doesn't it make you smile that my Mom is perfectly happy building a snowman all by herself? I wish we'd taken a picture. He was so put-together. Kind of like you and I when we get a shower before children wake. We're dressed, hair done, ready to start the day.

Well, this is how he looked today.

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Can you relate?

My Mom went out this morning to put his hat back on, but when she did, his head fell off! Oh the metaphor. I am running with it.

I feel like this so often at the end of the day.

I'm trying to smile but my smile is forced, crooked. My posture is droopy, I'm rolling my eyes at this and that, one arm hangs down, limp. I am a tired, saggy mess. And sometimes, with one last burden - one final event - like my boys finding jelly hearts on the highest kitchen shelf and pulling down scissors to snip the bag (be still my heart), Eliza and Ali bickering over something silly that turns into a kicking and hitting fight, a urine puddle in the middle of the boys' carpet because they took of their diapers, again. One last proverbial straw, and I lose my head.

Or worse, other heads start rolling.

Well, my Mom stuck his head back on, took this picture, then emailed it to all her kids this morning with her own analogy about the droopy snowman. I love that she gets motherhood - she totally gets it.

I'm going to take myself less seriously tonight, when I think of her snowman, and an army of mothers out there trying to hold it together.

Wishing I could lift up your hands when they hang down. xo

Saturday, February 18, 2012

A Dream

I woke this morning to an email from my friend, Sarah. Most of you know her as the famous mama at Clover Lane. I love Sarah for a boatload of reasons - her mother wisdom, her intuition, her mad cooking, craft and photography skills (yes, she easily tucks all three under her belt). But I particularly love her down-to-earth attitude and sense of humor. Here's what her email said,

Hi Cath -

I had a dream about you last night. How weird! You were pregnant and SNOWBOARDING! Going super super fast down a slope that looked like something out of the Extreme Sports Olympic Edition and I had to keep all your little ones on the edge of the slope from wandering into the path of extreme snowboarders going 60 mph - you being one of them! I was having a heart attack watching you and keeping them safe.

What does that mean? Too funny.

Love, Sarah

Little 'ol me. Tearing up the slope.

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What? Not me? You say I don't have long hair anymore? And you're pretty sure I can't pull a move like that? Grab some air like that?

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You mean this looks more like me? Nawww....

Okay, yes. I haven't strapped on a snowboard since college, and even then, the poor boy trying to teach me figured out rather quickly I was a lost cause.

But back to the question from Sarah - about the dream.

First of all, I'm not pregnant. Definitely not. The docs said our boys were the last. No ifs, ands, or buts. And I'm good with that. Although some days I do get a hankering for a newborn. It simply wells up out of some deep recess in my soul.

We did, however, go tubing last week at one of the 2002 Salt Lake Olympic venues. Soldier Hollow.

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I was the only one in our group who nearly took off her tush because she couldn't get on the tube fast enough. A tow rope pulls you and your tube (if you're smart you'll sit in your tube) to the top of the mountain, then you get a running start on this icy hill and jump onto your already moving tube for a crazy-fast ride to the bottom. I ran and jumped but missed my tube - because I hooked Eliza's tube to mine and was trying to push hers, while jumping into mine. Can you visualize the problem?

Well, I ended up in a sideways plank, connecting our two tubes with Eliza holding onto my arm for dear life. I was afraid I was going to skin the pants off my behind (or the flesh off my face) - not sure which would go first. Somehow I managed to clamor back into my tube while flying at an insane speed. Then, with some coaching from Doug, I perfected the tummy mount - a much safer way to descend the mountain. I guess you could call me an extreme tuber.

Or maybe it's the fact that even I have trouble protecting my kids. Today, I let them out into the backyard to "explore." Dig with sticks, find rocks, fill up buckets with leaves. While putting clothes into the dryer, I looked outside to realize no one was in the back yard anymore. I raced out front and found them in the middle of the street, blazing down the hill at tubing speeds into traffic that was rounding the corner. Of course, the boys were right there with them, pushing their lawnmowers.

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I love Sam's face, tongue and all.

Oh, I know, it all looks benign from the photo. But after an hour of watching them span the length of six houses including a blind corner, having Eliza take off on her own, and standing in the middle of the street (we have no sidewalks - really - who planned that??) to slow down cars and usher children out of the way, I had a huge headache. They were stressing me out! I mean, a mother hen can only take so much.

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Hey Gordo, where are you goooooing??

But Sarah, I'd trust you with my five any day.

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She's cute but she is a kamikaze biker!

Or maybe I'm in need of some adventure in my life. It's tax season and both Doug and I have our noses to the grindstone, with nothing terribly exciting on the horizon. An adrenaline rush sounds rather appealing about now. Something beyond rescuing my kids from certain death in front of our house, pulling boys off the mantel, fishing Mater out of the toilet, or suffering cardiac arrest from finding my kids dropping rocks into the storm drain as a high-schooler races his jeep around the corner going 40.

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You know, something like sky-diving (I jest not - it really is on my bucket list), or a trip to Thailand to sit on the beach in Phuket with my brother and his wife who live in Malaysia...

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My darling sister-in-law, Shirlee, and her daughter Maya

Or just a jaunt to Nordstrom to buy my favorite lipliner that's been out of stock for months. I've got an itch for some adventure these days, something new - for that feeling of being pin-prickingly alive.

What say you? Soothersayers, interpreters? What does Sarah's dream mean?

I really am content with my life, but whatever the meaning (or lack thereof), it sure made for a good laugh this morning. Love you Sarah.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Inclined to Joy

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The last stack of these went out yesterday... late. But it was the best I could do after our printer went berserk and left black splotches all over the envelopes. Doug spent hours trying to get our mail merger to stop leaving extra zeros on the zip codes. So we finally voted for printing sticker labels. Doug manually deleted all the extra zeros (bless his heart). Then together, we pressed addresses, stamped red hearts, and off they went to the post man.

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For us, sending cards is about remembering all those people we love, seeing each of their names on our list as we stamp and seal. Those names have blended into ours, become part of who we are.

It's been a good run these last twelve months. Crib tents, hair cuts, Disney, my mom's health, one thousand gifts... and disasters. But all in all, William Blake is right. True love, deep love, when we let it take over and push everything else that is holding us back out of the way, is always inclined to joy.

Sending you love (albeit a day late) for Valentine's Day. I may not have sent you a card, but I hope you know how much I appreciate your comments and time here. It means a great deal to me that you stop in, and I always find comfort in your words.

xoxo

(A special shout-out to Michelle for the photo and design on our card. Love you M.)
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