The Trip From Hell: Part II

As I mentioned in my previous Disney installment, we arrived in Orlando unscathed and with all of our 3 (at the time) children. The first few days in the park were OK. There's always an adjustment period for Mr. MOTH, whose expectations for children's behavior are higher than mine (read: unrealistic). Once we got the hang of it, all was well.

Baby Girl's first birthday was celebrated with a brunch with Winnie-the-Pooh at the Crystal Palace in the Magic Kingdom. They brought her a complimentary cupcake and card signed by all of the characters in attendance (Pooh, Piglet, Tigger, Eyeore):

It was really magical for everyone, but if you're considering taking a child, 3 is the age to do it. It is just so REAL for them. As in, that is REALLY Tigger or Piglet or Mickey or whoever. The magic is so intense when your imagination is running at peak performance. This picture of Youngest Boy, then age 3, speaks volumes I think. It's one of my all-time favorite pics of him. He just kept saying, "Tigger loves me." "Piglet loves me." It was truly priceless:

One of our main objectives for this trip was for Baby Girl to get her very first haircut, just like her brothers had done before her. Mission accomplished:

For those of you who have been following from the beginning, you might remember that Baby Girl had some mobility issues. As in, she wasn't even crawling at her one-year check-up and she didn't walk until just shy of 18 months. I can remember the very first time she crawled. As a matter of fact, it's one of those moments I'll never forget...

We were preparing to head out to the Animal Kingdom on February 8th. Mr. MOTH was supervising the kids while I was packing up our supplies for the day. I heard him yell, "Honey! She's crawling! Get the camera! I'm calling it!" So I rush over to see for myself. My barely 1-year-old crawled over to the TV stand...and threw up. Everywhere. I was hoping it was just an upset belly from all of the movement that she wasn't used to. But no. By the time we arrived at the park she had puked many more times. A call back from our pediatrician confirmed what I suspected: She was going to become dehydrated and she would need IV fluids. We quickly got directions to an Urgent Care type place. I took our daughter in while Mr. MOTH stayed in the van with the boys. I asked up-front if they would be able to give her an IV. They asked me to fill out a bunch of forms before they would answer. I sat in the waiting area to fill them out, all while she was still puking on herself/me. Turns out they were unable to give her an IV and we had to take her to the ER across the way. I may have left the puke-filled bib in the garbage can in the waiting area. Ahem.

Again, I go in with my now-dry-heaving sweetheart and they set me up in the waiting room. However, this place was so different from any hospital ER I've ever been to (and I/my family are very accident prone. We've been to a few). (Florida Hospital, Celebration)They triaged us right away to make sure we would be seen in the order of importance. I was actually OK with this. I expected to wait and I felt better that someone had seen her almost immediately and knew what they were dealing with. I gave Mr. MOTH the go-ahead to leave - knowing I would be there awhile - and he took the boys to ride the monorail to Epcot. They got to ride in the front:

I knew she simply had the flu and was dehydrated. I knew they would probably draw blood and start an IV. What I didn't know was how this was accomplished on an infant. I had to hold her down while they put her little arm in a splint and did their thing. The splint had to stay on while they gave her the fluids and I was allowed to lay with her in the bed. I held it together...until then. I don't cry often. And almost never in front of strangers (Sidenote: this is completely untrue when I'm pregnant. Then I cry ALL of the time, ESPECIALLY in front of strangers). And this was the ugly cry. In the back of my head I just kept thinking that February 8th, 2007 I brought her home from the hospital and one year later - to the MINUTE, practically - I had to take her back.

And all of a sudden, it was like the heavens opened up and dropped a magician down in the room. This young-ish woman walks in with what I'll call her bag of tricks. I think her name was Skylar? Sabrina? Samantha? It definitely started with an "s". I think. Anyhow, she walks in singing and blowing bubbles and making the whole experience much more enjoyable. OK. "Enjoyable" is a stretch. But it was much better with her there. She comforted me (something no one else thought to do) and made sure we didn't need anything. AND THEN, before we left (something like eleventy-nine hours later) she brought me a sandwich. I hadn't eaten since breakfast, so this was HUGE for me. It was such a different experience than one would expect in an ER and I made sure I took the business card of the head of the dept and I e-mailed her and let her know once we returned home. Oh, yes, I did.

We filled prescriptions, wolfed down fast food, and returned to the room. Our discharge instructions said that we could resume normal activities with her as long as she was acting relatively normal (i.e. not lethargic). We had planned to take it fairly easy so we headed out for the day. We got a late start, so we decided to go for broke and maybe see a night show since we had essentially "lost" an entire day at the parks.

There's a night show called "Fantasmic" at Disney MGM (Hollywood Studios, now, I guess). It's really pretty amazing with lights and water and projection stuff and we hadn't seen it with the kids. Oldest Boy was kinda tired, but we figured one of us could just cart him out on our back if he crashed. We showed up relatively late for seating and ended up about 12 rows from the back. There was some sort of tween cheerleader convention at the park that day and sure enough, we were seated behind a group of them. There were little cheerleaders EVERYWHERE in the stadium and they were trying to do "the wave" back and forth. The girls in front of us did their part and when it got to the end (it's not a round stadium) they stood up and yelled, "SEND IT BACK!!" And our Oldest Boy puked all over them. It was one of those moments that seems to be happening in slow motion. (As much as these girls are a part of our Disney story from this trip, I am 100% certain that they still talk about our son when they tell THEIR Disney story). Oh sure, you're laughing. It is funny. NOW. But at the time we had to do some quick thinking. We commandeered a stroller and ran/pushed/shoved our way to the parking lot - with him stopping every few minutes to throw up.

So again I'm covered in vomit. AGAIN. And then a couple of hours later...I was looking for some pom-poms to puke behind. {SIGH}

Next installment: The return trip. What? You thought there was a blizzard in Florida?