We woke up at Disney World on our final morning of vacation to the bright, warm sun. We packed up five days' worth of souvenirs while you moaned in bed that your tummy hurt. You even tried to throw up in the toilet; I thought you were being dramatic.
Until you threw up on the shuttle bus on the way to the Magic Kingdom.
Yeah, that's something I can cross off my bucket list, now. Cleaning up vomit from me, you, the seat ... all the while going 70mph down the Orlando freeway and fielding polite looks and sighs from fellow passengers. You felt so bad, you kept apologizing and crying.
Our first line item of business was securing Rapunzel's autograph at the Tangled castle. We made a beeline for the line, and were literally the last family they let in for the morning's meet and greet. Daddy and I high-fived each other, marveling at the things now in our lives that bring us happiness! You weren't too sure of Rapunzel or Flynn Rider ... think you still felt crummy. Mama thought Flynn's smolder was dead on!
I let you pick out a new cup, since your princess one did not survive the incident on the bus. You insisted on the babiest of baby cups ... who was I to argue with you?
We asked you what you wanted to do on your final day at Disney. You said the Teacups! without hesitation. I asked you repeatedly if your tummy hurt and you said no. I told Daddy, who loathes rides, he better witness his daughter's absolute joy at least once ... the way you threw your head back and shrieked with glee when you and I rode them Friday!
He said it was worth it.
After lunch, we told you our time at the park was waning ... what did you want to do next? You said, see the princesses! So we got in yet another line as you waited very patiently for 45 minutes. The bonus was the handler said Belle would be behind the curtain, and you needed her autograph yet. Perfect!
This time when you saw Sleeping Beauty, you didn't even hesitate to love on her.
Cinderella was as sweet as they come, and raved about your matching outfits.
She asked you if you wanted to dance and you just nodded, in awe.
It's a moment I don't think any of us will forget.
Belle was behind the curtain! You loved her, too. So did Daddy ... a little.
We randomly spotted Ariel and Prince Eric as we exited the princess tent. We again lucked out by being the last family they let in line to meet them. Ariel tried to teach you the Flounder handshake, but you wanted no part.
We made sure to take as many photos as we could as we prepared to leave the park. By then, your coping mechanisms were deteriorating quickly. Here's proof you were DONE taking photos!
We took the shuttle back to the resort to gather our luggage for the shuttle to the airport. Since it was finally sunny and nice, we explored the resort a little, visiting the 101 Dalmatians wing. This is Mama's favorite picture of the entire trip!
The bus to the airport took almost an hour with the waiting and other stops. You fell asleep hard. When I picked you up to carry you out, I could tell you weren't yourself. The wind had gone out of your sails. It was a good time for vacation to come to an end.
The flight home went well- you called dibs on the window seat. Mama sat in the middle, sleeping, while Daddy took advantage of in-flight Wi-Fi and caught up on the sports world. You fell asleep the last hour, curled in an impossible ball on the seat. Daddy carried you off the plane and back into our frigid state at 10:45pm.
From the airport home is just over an hour's drive. You were nestled in your carseat in the back, sandwiched between Daddy, who was tired and had a headcold, and the Beagle, who we picked up from Uncle D's. We hadn't gone more than 10 miles when, without warning, you threw up all over the place. There was no time to react. I was driving 75mph down the freeway in a wind storm.
We pulled over, you're bawling, Daddy's wretching, the dog's ... "helping" and it's dark, rainy, freezing, and windier than hell. Your carseat was a total loss. We made room in the trunk for it. As I am opening suitcases to get you extra clothes, things are flying across the parking lot. It was chaos. I tried cleaning you off the best I could with what I had left for wipes, water, and Kleenex. You were screaming. So, Daddy took over driving, made room for the Beagle away from you (so he'd stop licking you) and I buckled you in the middle, huddled next to you, and told Daddy not to exceed 60mph. I held a reusable grocery bag in front of you the rest of the way home, and you kept puking.
Vacation was so over!
Thursday, March 17, 2011
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