Disney’s Beach Club Resort - July 28, 2012

I have four prerequisites for picking my temporary home on vacation: comfort, cleanliness, convenience and pool.  We spent nine days at Disney’s Beach Club Resort in early July and here’s the lowdown.  Our digs weren’t quite luxury, but they weren’t a letdown either.

 

Comfort

 

The bed can be the difference between a bad trip and good one; it’s the difference between a zombie vacation and one where I’m actually awake.  I don’t care if the chair or the couch in the room is so firm that I can bounce a coin off of it (this was the case, by the way). 

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Monica, Phoebe or Rachel? - July 27, 2012

When I was single, I used to watch shows and wonder which character I most resembled.  Now, I watch shows and wonder whom my daughter may be like.  Of course, I want her to march to her own beat, which she has already mastered.  I just wonder what she’ll be like when she’s a teenager or a grown woman.

 

Will she have drive in life or be lazy?  Will she be a social butterfly or a recluse?  Will she be awkward or confident?  Will she be self-deprecating or self-motivating or both?  Will she be a leader or a follower?  Will she be a girl with gumption?

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Coughing Up Coffee Grounds - July 26, 2012

Last Tuesday’s sprint-and-save incident reminded me of another time I sunk into the surreal, with fear for my daughter.  It was devastating and is hard to retell.

 

I was one of those mothers who couldn’t produce enough breast milk.  I always envied the women who would complain about hearing babies cry and soiling their blouse.  At least they could provide sufficient and natural nutrition to their child.  I was lucky if I got two ounces.

 

I was the half-formula and half-breast-milk mommy.  I’d make what I could and substitute the rest with pricey formula.  My saving grace was the stories I would hear from the seventies about mothers who were told not to breastfeed and fed their babies rice milk.

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Give Them A Break - July 25, 2012

There is a flurry of judgment around the children of the Colorado killings.  At first I thought I would lay low and give their parents a break from being bombarded by the media about their unfortunate decisions.  I didn’t want to pour more salt into their wounds.

 

I’ve asked all of the same questions that everyone else has without any sensible answer.  How could those parents take such small children to THAT movie?  What were their children doing up at that time of night?  Is seeing a movie more important than the mental well-being of their children?

 

Today, I don’t stand in judgment. 

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5 “Single” Things I Miss - July 24, 2012

Every time I get a night away from my daughter, I feel like I’m missing something.  I check my pockets, my purse and the reminders in my phone.  The feeling never quite leaves me…for about 30 minutes.  Then, it’s PARTY time!  P-A-R-T-Y!

 

Don’t get me wrong.  I love my daughter.  I love my life.  In fact, sometimes, I pretend I’m Julie Andrews on a hilltop, twirling in circles until I pass out.  Oh, wait; that might be the wine because I can have more than one glass without my little sidekick.  I am free!  I’m like Baby in Dirty Dancing, flying into the air and landing that show-ending leap (I only added that last bit because my husband HATES Dirty Dancing more than any movie ever made and I feel like annoying him).

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Teach Our Kids “This”? - July 24, 2012

I’m sinking in my chair as I write this.  The concept makes me cringe.  This entry embarrasses me and makes me want to cover my eyes, but it’s a topic I can’t move out of my mind.  Hopefully, if I share it and write about it, I can forget about it for another ten years.  My husband may vomit while he reads this (Warning to hubby: read with a barf bag present).

 

Recently, a mommy friend of mine and I were discussing teen pregnancy.  It’s a fear all mothers have, especially mothers with daughters.  The question arose: how will you deal with educating your child on teen pregnancy?

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Written All Over Her Face - July 23, 2012

I stare at my kid so much; I probably look like a stalker.  I miss most movies, rides, shows and events because I’m always watching her.  Does she think the jokes are funny?  Is she happy?  Is she frightened?  Does she think the clown looks as creepy as I do?

 

My daughter is very expressive.  I like to think I can read those expressions.  After all, she’s pretty much a mini-me.  Her thoughts are written all over her face, which is both cute and a curse. It cracks me up, which is cute.  It makes for bad lying, which is a curse.

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Princess Groupie at Akershus - July 22, 2012

My daughter has princess fever.  Let me be more specific.  My daughter has Beauty and the Beast fever.  Her favorite color is yellow.  She calls my husband her beast.  She won’t shut up about Belle.  Belle this.  Belle that.  “Mom, where are my Belle slippers?”  “Mom, can I bring my Belle doll with me?” “Mom, do I look like Belle?”  I’m waiting for her to get a Belle-complex.

 

Everyday, I ask her what she dreamt about the night before.  One day, it’s “Belle and I had a tea party.”  The next day, it’s “Belle and the Beast were dancing.”  I’m starting to hope she’ll like Justin Bieber soon (not really).  

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Hero For A Day - July 19, 2012

I sprinted the 100-yard dash in under 2 seconds, yesterday.  Or, at least it felt like it.  Forget Katniss Everdeen protecting her sister in The Hunger Games.  Try putting a mother who is running to her offspring into the mix and you’d have a real fight on your hands.  Her child would be savoring the victory dinner, while she takes a nap.

 

She’d pull the pin, drop the grenade and be the cool chick walking away with a rifle over one shoulder and her child over the other.  She’d be the one wrapping her child in a wet towel and running straight into fire to release them from a burning building. 

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Showering With Spiders - July 18, 2012

I’m thinking about showing my 3-year-old the movie Jaws, just to let her know there are scarier things out there, than the shower.   Not really, but she’s freaked out by the shower, the way I was freaked out by Poltergeist when I was a kid.  Okay, I was several years older, but when does this phase end?  I’m pretty sure I’m going to herniate a disk or dislocate a shoulder if she keeps growing, but continuing with this fear.  She’s already over 1/3 my size.

 

She’s pretty much terrified of the shower, spiders and the dark.  If I were really cruel, I’d plant a daddy long leg, throw her in the shower and then shut off the lights. 

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