The Happiest F**king Place On Earth

Or, how we took our children to Disneyland and our daughter lost her shoes which led to her being barred from the bumper cars in Bug's Land.

Maybe the brown havaianas weren't the best idea...

Do you think inappropriate footwear as a toddler leads to poor shoe choices as an adult? Do you think this hooker young lady was the victim of stupid flip flops as a 2 year old?

Before I leap into tales-from-the-weekend, let me just thank all of you for your supportive comments... truly, you have more faith in me than I have in myself and just maybe, that is all we really need... knowing that others believe in us and our abilities. I kept calling Hugh all afternoon and doing my Sally Field, "You like me!" impersonation.

Debbie, who is quite possibly one of the best writers floating around the Internet, sent me the most encouraging email of all time and if she thinks that I haven't saved it in a folder where I can, when in need of a pick me up, read it from time to time, well... let's just say she would be wrong.

So, the meeting was very meeting-ish and there was talk of money (as in, how much money would you like) and travel (uh, no thanks) and many articles about fun things like wine, women and song, and how, as a person who leads this lifestyle (Lordy... already, I lie to the boss) I am just the right-o gal for the job. But sadly, Snakes! got tabled until the warmer months.

But, enough of me and the job for which I am not qualified ready for... let's talk about the weekend...

We decided, apparently while drunk and asleep, that we should take the kids to Disneyland on Friday. And my use of "we" is such a lie. It was all me. I decided. It's my fault. And it was fun. Totally fun. But, ohsoveryveryexhausting. Look, I am so tired Ican'tevenspacemywords.

Hugh and I have never had the All Access Disney passes and have been telling our kids, the magic of it all is lost if you can go whenever you want. Which is actually code for: Mom and Dad can't handle the House of Mouse more than once a year...well, fuck that noise. I am so getting the damn passes because trying to do both parks (because you "have" to buy the hopper ticket which includes CA Adventure) is nothing short of a major pain in the arse and, no matter how small the crowds, it basically boils down to one ride an hour.

Eva was out of her small mind with excitment. Minnie! Mickey! Lights! Noise! Over stimulus!

Disneyland is currently an homage to Pirates of the Carribbean. Complete with handsome but very fey Jack Sparrow wandering around to thrill the moms children... there are also a fair amount of hormonally driven teenage girls who trawl the Park in their personal wench-ware... I can't decide if I find the big silent animated characters or the real human ones more frightening... I mean, we walked in and were greeted by Cruella DeVille, but her wig was bad and she was sort of sweating off the pancake makeup and quite frankly, the shoes were all wrong and she looked more like someone who pulled together a last minute costume on Halloween to wear to her stupid company's employee costume party and she only opted from Cruella because her crazy downstairs neighbor has a faux dalmation print bed throw that she can borrow and use as a cape.

But then, a big animated Pooh Bear with a honey pot hat lumbering around is no box of chocolates either. Especially as Pooh wears no pants and the average child's head hits right at Pooh's non-existent junk.

Hugh and Chad pulled a my two dads and took Eva off to the Jungle Cruise while Jen and I got stuck were lucky enough to go on Splash Mountain with it's 50 friggin foot drop and where, just as you plummet to your very possible death, the nasty folks at Disneyland take your picture and try to entice you to purchase, with real American dollars, a snapshot of your open and screaming mouth to document your survival...

Give me the Enchanted Tiki Room... where the birdies play and the flowers bloom... ooh, sorry.

& omg, I have been writing this entry for seriously like 2 days and blogger apparently hates me and the children! Oh the children with their needs for milk and trimmed fingernails... if this gets published before the next month without an "r" it will be a miracle...

Did I mention Eva's G-hetto hair? It bugs the ever living hell out of Daisy that I am not prissier about Eva's appearance. Let me be clear and tell you that I let Eva dress herself... Daisy does not. Daisy would rather be cut off at the knees than show up at the park with that child looking anything less than turned out in model perfection. The striped tights and the ankle boots? They don't happen on the nanny's watch.

What does happen is this... a festive hairdo and Mouse love...