One-tracked Minds 

One-tracked Minds

Today marks exactly one month till we depart for Disney. The kids made (okay, the kids helped ME make) a countdown to Disney calendar, replete with glittering Mickeys, Goofy cut-outs and Magical Quotes. Then they watched the "planning your disney vacation" video nine thousand times. Connor has obviously picked up some of Mom's ravenous pregnancy appetite-- he was watching the resort part of the video and yelled, "THAT hotel has a FOOD COURT! I want to stay THERE!" We went out to dinner and all the way to the restaurant Connor and Rory argued over which movies they'll watch in the van on the way to Disney. We've decided to drive this year, since the plane gave Rory and Chris ear infections, and the hectic pace of getting up at four a.m. to catch a plane left all of us pretty ill by the time we arrived on last year's trip. During our last Disney trip, we managed to rack up two ear infections, one ruptured pubic bone, one severely bruised hand (thank you, Epcot sliding doors), one upper respiratory infection, and a nasty case of gastric side effects of antibiotics that left Ror vomiting all over Katie at least ten times during the vacation. We figure driving will be more restful and less likely to cause otological complications.

This evening we went to Maggie Moo's, an ice cream place where you choose your flavor and then choose the "mix-ins," much like the Cold Stone Creamery national chain. Ror picked cotton candy ice cream with m&m mix-ins-- he was completely blue (as was the dining room table) by the time he finished. Connor picked a disgusting mix of chocolate ice cream with gummy bears, sprinkles, and reese's pieces. I picked a much more dignified fudge ice cream with sno-caps. Chris skipped the ice cream altogether, citing his discomfort with the entire practice of smushing stuff into your ice cream.

During dinner this evening, Connor and Riley Kate were really loving it up-- Riley Kate would lean over and kiss his arm, and he'd hug her and say, "Oh, you're a good little sister!" Then he'd turn to me and say, "MOM! You're supposed to say, 'look at my two good kids, being a good brother and sister to each other.'" Sheesh, I miss my cue once and he jumps down my throat. Ror couldn't handle the mushy stuff, but he tried: "MOM! I love ya! Gimme your chicken!"

Well, it's past nine, and I'm BEAT. Such is the life of the lumbering pregnant woman. Check back tomorrow night on the photo site for what I'm sure will be another hilarious watch-me-grow photo depicting how much ice cream I've really been eating.

P.S.-- five hundred views of this little site as of today!