Trip #4: The Harbour House Incident

To set the scene: By this trip we had two children (Oldest - age 3 - and Youngest - age 18 mos -Boy) and I did not adjust well to being the mother of two (for the record, Flylady saved my life. Seriously. We wouldn't have our daughters if I hadn't found a "plan"), so we knew we were probably going to want to have some other adults along for the ride. Thankfully, we were in a position to be able to take my parents along with little cost to them (except spending cash). Also at this point, Oldest Boy was nearly potty trained. Number 1? Down pat! Number 2? Not so much. As a matter of fact, when I told him that I didn't think Mickey Mouse would let us come to his house if he didn't know how to use the potty, he said, "Well, then, you better call and find out!" Yeah.

The plane trip there was unremarkable, save for the fact that Youngest Boy cried for about the last 35 minutes (once we began our descent until landing - at which point he pointed to the planes and said, "Car!").

We did learn a few things about children and Disney on this trip. First, things there are a lot louder to 3-year-old ears than to 1-year-old (or 34-year-old) ears. This wasn't something we had noticed before, but there is noise all around - music, fountains, music, screaming kids, music. Did I mention the music? It's loud.

We also learned that dietary changes on vacation can wreak havoc on the digestive system of a 3-year-old. Case in point: We were visiting the Magic Kingdom on Day 3. We were just settling in for lunch at the Harbour House. The restaurant has picnic-bench-style seating and the boys were getting a bit restless after having finished eating so they were sort of wandering between two tables. The grown-ups were just tucking into our lunches (after feeding the young uns) when I heard Oldest Boy say, "Uh Oh! Mommy! I think I heard poopie hit the floor!" *grunting* *suspicious Splat! sounds* "Yep! Definitely poopie hitting the floor!" At this point, I will point out a couple of things: First of all, he was wearing pull-ups. Second, pull-ups are not leak-proof. Third, I was frozen in shock. I had no clue where the restroom was. I grabbed him (holding him out away from my body with stick-straight arms) and my mom and we headed off to find it.

Turns out, it has to be the smallest restroom in all of WDW. And there was a line. And it was the ladies' room. Never, in my entire life, have I cut in front of other women waiting to use the potty. I know that it's like taking your life into your own hands. In this case, I made an exception and pushed through. I headed straight for the sink and someone said to my mother, "It's OK. Everyone pees their pants when they're just learning." My mom said, "Uh, it's not pee..." - at which point everyone in line took several steps back.

Another lesson learned: When visiting the Magic Kingdom, do not leave the change of clothes in the vehicle. You have to take a ferry or monorail and then a tram back to get said change of clothes and then lather, rinse, repeat to get them back to the park (this is when you stupidly send your husband instead of taking the child your darn self). Also? They don't really sell shorts at WDW. Anywhere. T-shirts? EVERYWHERE. Sweats? You bet. But not one stinkin' pair of boys' shorts to be had. That shocked me!

The rest of the trip was fun, exhausting, hot, hot, hot, educational, emotional, silly, and worth every penny:

**This last photo was taken at SeaWorld. We will not be returning there until our children are all much, much older. They just didn't get it. The Mommy, however, LOVES SeaWorld. A lot. The dolphin viewing area was the only bearable place for the boys in the entire park - it was cool and we seemed to be the only ones who knew it was there.