Don't Worry, Disney Won't Sink Our Boat

On our trip to Disney World this year, Flik was quite excited to try the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. We rode it once last year, but it was a little scary for him, particularly the part where the boat cruises into total darkness and then drops. This year, he told us repeatedly prior to the ride that last year he was only three-and-a-half and this year he is four-and-a-half, so he wouldn’t be scared. Well, he was right. He did hold me a little tighter when we entered the pitch-black, can’t-see-a-thing portion of the ride, but he seemed to recover quickly. This year he expressed greater concern that we would get hit by a cannonball as the boat drifted through a pirate battle. “What if one of the cannonballs hits us?” I assured him that Disney World was not in the habit of making rides where the boats sank. All in all, the ride was a hit. As soon as we got off, we got the very expected, “Let’s go again!”

On our second time through the line, which wasn't really a line and more a long walk through an empty building with zigzagging barriers that corral the masses during busy season, we paused a couple times to check out some of the props that line the queuing area. One of Flik’s favorite props was this:

This, as Flik will tell you, is a cannonball machine. You know, the machine that launches the cannon balls. (We’ve tried to explain that it’s called, simply, a cannon, but he’s not having any of it.)

As we left the cannonball machine and continued toward the ride, Flik asked me, “Mommy, why do the pirates have to fight? Why can’t the just talk about why they’re upset?” When I looked down at him and smiled, he added, “Why can’t they just say, ‘Pirates, no more fighting!’” How can you even answer such a sweet question?

I answered him with a hug. That was sufficient because then it was time to get on the ride again.

Disney World 2011: Photo Recap

We returned home from Orlando today. Four days in Disney is fun, but exhausting. Throw in a baby with a 102 fever on day three and things become even more unscripted than usual. But everybody had a wonderful time, even the poor baby, who was never out of sorts, even at his hottest. Must have been all that magic in the air.

I have stories and stories to share, some long, most very brief, and all coming in the weeks to come. In the meantime, here are some of the photos from our trip.

Z is One

Today is Z's first birthday. I can't even believe it. His party isn't for almost a month because we leave for Disney World tomorrow and don't want to have it right after we get back. So today was just an ordinary day. Ordinary, except that my baby is one. One!

To mark the occasion, I did pull out my camera and grab a few shots for this official milestone.

Happy birthday, baby Z! We love you so very much!

First Baseball Game

We took Flik to his first Major League baseball game last week. When he found out we were going (and bringing him along), he was beyond excited. (Mostly at the idea that the game starts at 7, which is his typical bedtime.) We left Z at home with our nanny and headed out. The excitement never waned. When the night was over and we were headed home, we asked him what his favorite part was. As expected, his answer was: "My favorite part was every part!" This included: arriving at the park, finding our seats, hot dogs, PEANUTS, throwing shells on the ground, throwing baseballs, wandering the park, fireworks, sitting on Daddy's shoulders, and (oh yeah) baseball. We left the game a little early, but still well past his bedtime. When we planted him in his bed, he was wiped. My favorite part: every part!

This is NOT Michael Jackson

Tonight while we were hanging out in the kitchen, Hubby decided to put on some music. His selection: Michael Jackson: History. Flik is a Michael Jackson fan. He likes to dance and Michael Jackson, well, need I say more? I don't recall what the first song we listened to was, but Flik got all excited. "I know this song!" he exclaimed in his panty, excited voice, "It's Michael Jackson!" He got up and danced a little and then came back to our project at the table. Next song up: Billie Jean. After it played for a few moments, we had the following exchange:

Flik: Who sings this song?
Mommy: Michael Jackson.
Flik: (looking perplexed) No. You're kidding!
Mommy: No, really. This song is Michael Jackson, too.

About a minute passes without further discussion on the song or artist.

Flik: Mommy, you're kidding. This is NOT Michael Jackson.
Mommy: Flik, sweetie. This is really Michael Jackson. Why do you think it's not Michael Jackson.
Flik: Because this doesn't sound like Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson is a boy.

Later, Flik entertained us with some dance moves set to Thriller. Check 'em out. Seriously folks, he's had no formal training.

Baby Butterfly

Tonight I did bedtime with Flik. This is usually a Daddy role, but Daddy was working hard on finishing up a landscaping project and was too caked in dirt to be available for bedtime. Flik is not usually a fan on my stepping in for bedtime; he has a favorite and he is not shy about letting us know his preference.

Ever since his baby brother was born, Flik insists on being wrapped up "like a baby" after his bath and carried to his room. Tonight, with just the two of us, I suggested that maybe instead of a baby, we pretend he's a caterpillar. We could wrap him up in his cocoon and he could come out later as a butterfly. He was skeptical at first, but decided to try it out. I took him out of the tub, dried him off, wrapped him in his towel/cocoon, carried him to his room, and placed him on his bed. I then unwrapped him and "oohed" at the beautiful butterfly. Flik then pretended to be a "baby butterfly" who, of course, couldn't talk. He would just lie there looking sad and pretend talk with no sound coming out (because butterflies can't talk). Occasionally he would "break" to tell me something like, "let's pretend I'm a baby butterfly and I'm sad because I want my Mommy & Daddy butterflies." We then went back to playing while I put on his jammies; I pretended to be the Mommy Butterfly. I told him he didn't need to be sad because I would always be there for him until he was ready to fly away on his own. Another "break."

"Mommy, let's pretend the baby butterfly is sad because he doesn't ever want the Mommy Butterfly to leave, even when he grows up into a grown up butterfly."

I wrapped my arms around him and told him how I would never leave him. How even when he was a grown up butterfly, he would always be my baby butterfly. Always and forever.

Then we crawled under the covers and read a few chapters from our next Magic Treehouse book. We turned off the lights and snuggled together, something my little boy is pretty much never in the mood for unless it means he is about to be alone in his bed. So I snuggled with my usually unsnuggly boy for a few extra minutes. And I stared at his sweet and innocent face on his pillow. And as I left his room, I thought, "I know all parents love their children, but oh my goodness, it is almost unbelievable how very much do I love mine."

Goodnight, Kiddo. And do not worry, I am never going anywhere.

Good Question, Kiddo

Yesterday we went to the Air and Water show. We took public transportation and it was Flik's first time on a Metra train. He was pretty excited and enjoyed the ride a lot. We sat upstairs (of course). The upstairs seats are single seats, but you can flip them so that they face each other. Flik sat facing Daddy and I sat behind Daddy. At one point I heard, "Mommy, look!" I look over Daddy' shoulder to see Flik standing in between Daddy's legs instead of sitting in his seat.

Flik: Look, Mommy! I'm standing WHILE the train is moving.
Mommy: (shakes head slowly) That's probably not a very good idea. It's not very safe.

Flik: But Daddy said it was ok.

Mommy: I know. But it's just safer if you stay in your seat.

Flik flops back down onto his seat.

Flik: (to Daddy) Mommy. Is. Crazy.

Daddy: No, Mommy's not crazy. She is just trying to make sure you stay safe.

Flik: (short pause) Why aren't you doing that?

Mommy: (giggles)

Daddy: Yeah, that's a good question, Kiddo.

Hehe. My kid is so smart.