After fifteen minutes of sleep I awoke to the first OFFICIAL day of our Disney vacation. I woke up because Tommy was standing beside the bed silently staring down at me. It freaks me out a little. I much prefer the pouncing along with "MommyMommyMommyMommyMommy" etc. You get the picture. The silent staring thing is just plain scary. To me. It's also the reason he will never ever be allowed to be a clown for Hallowe'en. Although part of the blame for that rests squarely on Mr. Stephen King's shoulders, as well. For being so considerate as to write the tale "It" aka "The Book that Scared the Living Crap Outta Me". Twice. 'Cause I tried to WIN that war. And failed. Miserably. Pennywise. Shudder. Anyhow... it was around 7am on the first day of our Disney Festivus. And I was, actually, grateful for the solid quarter hour of sleep because it was something. At least. I admit to being more excited than my own children at the prospect of visiting the Mouse. Or "The Mousehole" as my DH likes to refer to it. In the sense that he feels he and his wallet gets sucked into a massive, cheery, candy-coloured maelstrom whenever we pass through those curved gates into The World. Yes... it's truly a battle for his wallet, you could say... but, still, he loves it. I think. I actually think he just loves me and the kids so much that it doesn't matter, in the end, how much it costs. To see us all so happy that we, actually, cry with excitement upon arriving. And, again, a little bit with sadness when we head back home. It's magical. Really. There's no other way to describe it. So the night before we leave I generally lie awake most, if not all, of the night. Thinking. Planning. Anticipating. Dreaming. I can't help it. Therefore... I really was thankful for at least a few minutes of rest.
Mellyman woke up right after I did. Took one look at me and knew that I hadn't slept much and laughed. He thinks it's funny. That I'm a Disney Freak. At least most of the time. Sometimes, though, when he actually thinks of all the things in our home emblazoned with Mickey and Friends... he is truly disturbed. At least that's what he claims. He turned to me and said, "Melly? Are you feeling sad?" I answered, "Yes". Because he knows that I am always a little sad as well as excited on Day 1. Always. I'm sad that it's FINALLY here. Our Disney vacation. Yep. Sad. Because that means that it's almost over, too. I know. It doesn't make a lot of sense but it's true.
We got up and woke up Calvin and Beth and started to pull all the rest of our stuff together. Took the back bench out of the smelly, old van and loaded it up. Suitcases(6), carry-on bags(6), dirty, peed on, immortal stroller with warped wheel(1 ~ unfortunately), stuffed animals(3), snacks for the road(check), house key for my Mother(check), coffee(check) and American money, map to airport and camera(check, check and double check). I took the 1st official picture of the vacation. Same one as always: Beth, Calvin and Tommy strapped into the van with their one favourite stuffed animal on their heads waving "Bye" to the house. We yell "Bye House!"... then "Driver... all clear!"... then Mellyman beeps the horn and we blast out of the driveway and down our street. Cheering and clapping 'cause we're on our way. Whooooo Hooooo!!!! Whooooo Hooooooooo!! Whooo...
And... then we screech to an abrupt halt. About seven houses down the street. Turn around. Drive back to our house. Wait while Mellyman gets out of the car and goes into the house. To turn off the water. In the house. Because we had... errrrrr... a flood a few months back and we're all a little nervous about going anywhere for the night without turning it off. In fact, my dear Mellyman would prefer I turn if off when I go to the grocery store or the kids' school, too. Anyway... he turned the water off and double checked that the house was locked and we, again, Driver All Cleared, beeped and drove away.
Our destination was the Buffalo Airport. But, first, we had a little side trip. Yep. To a place called West Point aka my childhood home. And to a person called The General aka my dear sweet old mighty powerful Mom. Who would, given the chance, scare the living crap outta 'ol Pennywise himself.
To be continued. Next up: The General makes Me(l) cry. Like a little baby.
