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Sick of hearing about Disney by now?  Truth be told, I’m sick of writing about it, but this is the last one – now it is all recorded for posterity.  So hold on to your shorts; we’re almost at the end.

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By Saturday, we were running on fumes.

Our crowd was really starting to thin out; Julie and her daughter had gone home Thursday morning.  Mike left in the middle of the night on Friday.  Everyone else (but us) was slated to leave at the end of the day on Saturday.  We were set to move to a regular room since we would be the only ones left; we had our bags packed and held by the hotel until our new room was ready.  We hadn’t visited MGM (“Disney’s Hollywood Studios,” if you are being fancy and calling it by its new name) yet, and we were lucky that the first bus to arrive was ready to whisk us off to “the park with the Toy Story ride in it, Mom!”

Spoiler alert; we didn’t get on to a single ride, Toy Story or otherwise.  Ninety minutes in line with two teeny kids?  I don’t think so.


Over the many visits we’ve made to Disney World over the years, we’ve managed to eat at a large chunk of the restaurants.  I had never been to The Sci Fi Drive-In Theater – it is themed like a 1950’s drive-in where you eat at a table that looks like a ’57 Chevy – heck, I didn’t even know where it was in the park.  Finn was game; he still talks about the “TRIPLE! Drive-In” from Ohio.  We didn’t have a reservation, but luckily arrived three minutes before they were open and successfully snagged one of the tables in the back.

Verdict?  Meh.

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After we realized that the wait was way too long for Toy Story and pulled one of those “Oh, FINNY!!! LOOK OVER THERE!  IT IS AWESOME!” parenting moves to draw his attention in the opposite direction as we raced past, we went to the Honey, I Shrunk the Kids Playground, which we knew would entertain them.  It did. To the tune of double tantrums as we pulled out of that station.

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There was another tantrum over something concerning The Little Mermaid and another over an ice cream bar…  And another as we lost a leaf that Finn was playing with.  Really?  A LEAF??

How many times did we have to make the same mistake?  The kids are not firing on all cylinders in the hot, early afternoon sun.

We checked into our new hotel room.  In the elevator, Finn lamented over the departure of everyone else.

“Grandma Sue is gone…  Elise is gone…  We are all alone.  Uncle Mike and Uncle Rick – they look the same, and talk the same, but they aren’t the same Uncle – they are gone.  Ooo-oooohhh!”  (Insert faux drama here, complete with overdramatic pouty face and wail AND a sniffle.)

Finn stripped to his undies, scrambled under the covers and watched television for two hours while Alice napped, and when she woke up, Nathan was just getting back to the room with donuts.  Aye-eeee!  She was happ-ay.

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We visited our favorite parts of Epcot – pastries in France (where Finny had his final meltdown – involving peeing on my feet – DO NOT ASK), Nemo, the toy store in Germany and hoped to hit the “big ball” (Spaceship Earth) on the way out.  It was broken, and after hanging around for three or four minutes, we decided to head out before the everyone exited the parks en masse after the fireworks.  Just as we turned away, a cheer rippled through the small crowd that had been waiting in line despite the technical difficulties.  Finny let out a cheer of his own.  We walked right  on, but a certain small boy decided to punch the buttons on our ride vehicle to have the narration in Spanish…  Nathan translated for him.

Photorealistic, no?

Photorealistic, no?

No matter how many days we visit the parks, the last one always seems to be just one too many.  We shuffled out of the park, vowed that we would wait at least two years before coming back (like we always do), and dreaded waking up at three thirty to catch the un-Magical Express back to the airport in the morning.  Good god, we were f’ing exhausted.

The next morning, we got to the lobby at four a.m. with just seconds to spare to catch the bus.  It took us over two hours to get to the airport and we nearly missed our plane.  The kids were still in their jammies when we rolled into the terminal (I broke one of my own parenting rules), we got them pottied yet still had not managed to get breakfast for the two of us.  The bonus side to flying at the ass-crack of dawn is that you have a choice of “fresh” items – for purchase, yes! – on the plane.  I ate my puny, ten-dollar cheese plate while I wrestled a very unhappy Alice.

Have you ever been on a flight with a baby that screams like it is NEVER going to stop?  Yeah, that was us on the way home.

We landed in Denver seven hours after we had woken up, but realized that it was only NINE THIRTY and McDonald’s was still serving breakfast.  We ordered waaay more food than we should have, but ate every, last, greasy crumb.  Bloated and greasy ourselves, we braced ourselves for the hour and a half car ride home.  I felt like shit.  Nathan felt like shit.  The kids felt like shit.  And we spent most of Sunday sleeping and bathing.

Now that it is over, and Alice is finally back on her regular schedule, I’m feeling two completely opposite emotions.  Part of me never wants to leave the house again, and the other cannot wait to get out on the road and have another adventure.  While we were getting ready a few mornings ago, I asked Nathan if he wanted to take a road trip to California this fall.

“Maybe we could stop for a couple of nights in Anaheim…  You know, to go to the Not So Scary Halloween Party at Disneyland?”

“DisneyLAND?!?”  Finny nearly lost his mind.  “They have a Jack the Pumpkin King Haunted Mansion at DisneyLAND!  Let’s go there!  Yes!  Oh, I’m so excited!!”

Two years, my ass.