We’re back from the Florida trip. I was so tired yesterday when we got home that I took a 3 hour nap and then brushed my teeth with a toothbrush whose bristles had been accidentally soaked in spilled Johnson and Johnson’s lavender night time baby bath soap. (Which? What? Did I buy that after seeing the adorable naked baby on the commercial get a bath and then GO RIGHT TO SLEEP, because there is no truth in that marketing, lemme tell ya.* You wash 3 crazy boys in purple baby soap – or anything else of any color – and it amps em right on up every time, and that was really optimistic of me to fall for that commercial. Cute baby butts get me every time. )

I was so tired I didn’t notice I had baby shampoo mouth going on. It made me want to throw up.*

If a company your husband does a lot of business with offers your family a mostly free trip to Disney, you’re obligated to gratefully accept and go and be blessed. Which we did. I was constantly flinching at the amount of money that must have been spent on the entire project, as no expense seemed to be spared.

But.

My favorite day was not a Disney day.*  It was the day before, when we went early and spent the day at a beautiful, deserted beach. My mom and Seth-5yr were the most industrious shell collectors. Ethan-7yr built a ‘fish trap’ and actually caught something. (of course he did, brilliant boy.) And Caden-7yr and I had the most body surfing related wardrobe malfunctions and were glad the beach was mostly deserted. Of all the vacation photos, Mike probably took 75% of them on that one day, and they all seem to be bikini shots. Including one directly overhead, aerial view with a zoom that you really would think i’d have noticed, but I didn’t. I was too busy being completely relaxed, lying in the sand where the water just barely came in and swirled around me, leaving new shells to look at each time a wave went out. Heavenly, that day.

We stayed at a lovely place right on the beach and when I pulled back the covers to climb in bed, a small roach objected to the intrusion.* I screamed and jumped and Mike had a shoe off, killed it, and called for new sheets before I could catch my breath and silently talk myself down off the ‘leavingrightnow’ ledge. Which I did. VERY well.

Because later Caden-7yr and Seth-5yr were threatening to get all dramatic about not sleeping and I calmly outdramatized them until they had no other choice but to concede defeat.

“Do you think there are other roaches, Mom?” Said with quivering lips and fear in their eyes.

“OH YES. There are lots and lots more. That was just the smallest roach, probably. They will crawl all over us while we sleep. But we’ll live. I love you, goodnight.”

“But…? Mom! Ethan-11yr said that cockroaches can live for three days without their heads!”

“If Ethan-11yr said that, he was probably right. He knows these things. But roaches are disgusting with or without their heads. There might be decapitated ‘day 2′ roaches running all over us tonight beneath the blankets and dancing in our hair, but that’s all right. We’ll be okay. Goodnight.”

And they were so confused by my calm acceptance of our roach-y circumstances that they went to sleep. (Or they were just so tired that they couldn’t stay awake and argue more.)

That roach got us all a free breakfast, prompt bed re-making services, and a late check out time which was quite handy.

Disney:

If you go, be REAL sure who in the family likes roller coasters and who does not. I always forget how much I love them. LOVE them. Preferably the ones in total darkness, and if they’re not that kind then I’ll just close my eyes. That way, you don’t get freaked out by the stuff you see, but you just get all the fun of the ups and downs and adrenaline. I also forget how much my kids really do not like roller coasters, and so found myself many times at the end of rides consoling distraught children and apologizing and saying, “I am SO sorry. I really thought you’d like that. I had no idea it was going to be so… um… yeah. I know I said that the last time. And the time before that. Um…. I’m sorry. Again. Here let me hold you while you cry. GOSH THAT WAS SO FUN. I mean, for me. Not for you. Obviously.”

I’m covered in roller coaster bruises. You probably get more of those if you insist on riding with your eyes closed.

What all of us agree on is the total and complete avoidance of People In Big Costumes. Also, princesses. And there’s a lot of those types at Disney. I have NO shame in outright RUNNING in order to flee their presence, and did so many times. Even if it meant leaving them with my mom to deal with. Or children. Whatever. I’ll take a dark scary roller coaster anytime, extra bruises, but please dear GOD don’t let a Donald Duck get within twenty feet of me, he creeps me out, put on some pants, man.

We stayed at the Disney Beach and Yacht Club, which made me quite glad we were not paying the bill. Gorgeous. No roaches. The hallways are endless and, for reasons we never understood, are refrigerated to a cool 55 degrees.* I shared a bed with Seth-5yr, who has recently begun grinding his teeth. And sneezing. On me. In another bed, Mike had Caden-7yr, and he would sit up and loudly talk in his sleep. Ethan-11yr and my mom slept peacefully and in well behaved ways that did not wake others and should be thus commended.

If you go, by all means go to Africa on your Animal Kingdom day. But if you join in the African dancing (because they pluck you out of the audience just like in your worst nightmares), then go and have fun. Just be sure that when you’re shaking your butt and learning the dances that your mother is not DIRECTLY behind you videotaping every move of your hips and alternating the camera back to the shocked expressions on your children’s faces. The video ends with all of the women doing a slow, butt shaking turn in a circle move and I get halfway through it and then see my mother and her iphone at waist level and then I freak out and I think there’s a “MOTHER!” and some frantic hand blocking movements and then it’s over.

And by ‘over’ I just mean the video. Because HOURS later Caden-7yr will periodically squint at me and say, “I canNOT believe you know how to dance like that.” With great restraint, i do not tell him that ‘what happens at Disney, STAYS at Disney’ because i really don’t want him repeating that, and also, um, there’s a video, thanks mom, so it really doesn’t make sense anyway.

There’s more. But this post is already too long.

And too bad, because I had another Disney cockroach story!* And that one even has a video from my mom.

If you could take anyone with you to Disney, I do recommend my mom. She and I rode something and she insisted we choose French as our preferred language so I have no idea what it was about – but we had fun. And she will reluctantly but competently intercept and divert any wayward princesses or costumed folk you may be trying to avoid. And when you’re SO OVER IT ALL, like Seth-5yr on the last day we were there, she will rescue you and take you back to the hotel for a much needed nap.

*More proof I’m awful at ‘product reviews’ and companies should never EVER ask me to write them. But they do. Clearly they’ve never read anything I’ve ever written.

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