Christmas Cohort
Brett has been ordering gifts for me online in the past few days and they have started to arrive at the house. Last night, one package arrived in an envelope and I handed it to Cardin. I was all “go ask Daddy if you can open this?”
Just as a side note, this is not manipulation. It’s just called parenting benefits.
Being the ever faithful servant, she ran off to Brett and asked if she could open the envelope. He responded, “No, its for mommy.” Apparently this was the wrong thing to tell her because she proceeded to open the envelope, regardless of his answer, and came bouncing over to me, wielding the gift like a knife blade. It was for Mommy after all.
I laughed and told her that I couldn’t see the gift because it was for Christmas and she should go put it back in the envelope. She didn’t quite grasp my joke.
Brett said he has more packages arriving today…perhaps a little elf will open them all up for me.
Milky
For Cardin’s birthday this year, one of the gifts we 
purchased for her was a princess thermos. We purchased this specifically so she could bring it to Disney World and would have a larger cup to hold a drink throughout the day.
For all intents, the thermos works great. It holds a decent amount of beverage, keeps it chilled for numerous hours, and doesn’t spill. However, there was one major problem during our trip. During takeoff and landing, the thermos becomes presurrized; much like the fluid in your ears.
I know this for a fact because prior to our flight, we had placed chocolate milk into the Thermos. After we had boarded the plane and taken off, Cardin asked for a drink. I grabbed the Thermos and pushed the button to pop the lid. At that exact instant a stream of chocolate milk shot all over my face and shirt.
Listen Lady, I’m not talking about a little trickle of milk either. The velocity at which the milk exited was so intense that I actually heard the thermos release a “ppppffffttttt” sound as the milk exploded in my face and the pressure released.
I was taken by such surprise and shock that I was unsure of how to proceed. I turned to Brett, shook him awake, and waited for help as the milk dripped down my face. He looked at me in awe and disbelief before the fit of laughter started.
I spent the next 30 minutes of the flight, using baby wipes and a tide to go pen to try and clean my light blue shirt, which now had brown milk stains all over. I can just imagine what was going through the flight attendants head as she handed me peanuts.
To finish off the milk disaster, one of the “perks” of staying on Disney property is that your luggage is delivered to your hotel room from the Orlando airport; with no need for you to intervene. Awesome benefit, except that the luggage didn’t arrive that night until 10 pm and I had not packed an extra shirt in my carry on. EPIC FAIL.
So, I got to attend dinner with Chef Mickey that evening with my milk stained shirt; which was now starting to smell a bit spoiled. Hopefully the characters vision is so blurred behind those giant heads they didn’t notice the brown stains.
A Dream Come True
We’ve been back from Disney for nearly a week and I’ve finally caught up on my giant to-do list both at the office and at home and I can give you the recap now lady!!!
We had an awesome time at Disney and were able to make a slew of great memories. There was of course the chocolate milk incident, walking into podiums, and the giggles of laughter that erupted when we rode Dumbo. By far, the best part of the trip was watching Cardin’s expression as she met each of the characters and all the princesses. I would have given a lot of money to be able to hear the thoughts running through her head the second she saw Mickey for the first time. I like to imagine it was something along the lines of “holy shit…you’re not just a mouse that lives inside my TV.”
Snow White is by far her favorite princess and before we left, I booked a breakfast with the princesses during our Epcot visit. When I made the reservation I inquired as to which princesses are at the breakfast and was told that it’s on a rotating shift so there is no guarantee that a specific princess with be present. Listen Lady, I was sweating bullets as we waited to be seated. Had Snow White not been present I was imagining a mass temper tantrum that would only be quelled with a sedative.
Each of the princesses would float throughout the restaurant and stop at your table to say hello, sign autograph books, and take pictures. Luck was with us and Snow White was in fact in attendance at the breakfast. Snow White stopped at our table and Cardin meekly said hello and handed over her autograph book; unsure of how to have an exchange with Snow White as Cardin was still grappling with her real live presence.
Snow White and Cardin lined up for a picture and then…..nothing. 
At the exact moment I needed a picture, in fact the most vital picture of our whole trip, my camera froze. Luckily, I whipped out my iphone and was able to snap a picture of the two before Snow White departed.
We met the rest of the princesses in attendance at breakfast that morning and left with all their autographs.
I’m glad that we were fortunate enough to provide this moment to her; it is certaintly a part of her childhood I will never forget. Cardin was able to live the dream for a little while and it made our whole trip worthwhile.
As we were leaving the restaurant, Cardin asked if the princesses could come back to our hotel and go swimming with us. I smiled and was all “if mommy had enough money then probably, but for now, they have to stay here and see the rest of their friends.” 
Mangia!!!
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and as the holiday approaches, my mouth waters with the thought of the delicious food that we will feast on. It will be a slim party of near 50 this year. Most people can’t imagine finding a spot in their home for 50 people let alone serving dinner to that mass, but we’ve got it down to a good science. Everyone brings a dish to pass and we eat buffet style.
Thanksgiving ranks second on my list of holidays and its placement will never move as long as we have the famous meatball soup. You inquire what I’m referencing oh Internet? Let me lead you on the path of enlightenment. Meatball soup, also known as Italian Wedding soup, is our family tradition on Thanksgiving. Made from a chicken base stock with veggies, fried noodles, and tiny Italian meatballs it is unrivaled by any other dish. In fact it’s so time consuming to actually prepare and cook that we only have this soup twice a year.
We fight over who will have the last spoonful, and if we come for just desert, we always ask if there is leftover soup. Listen Lady, most people outside my family can’t understand the draw of the soup. They taste it and think it’s good, but they don’t fully appreciate the labor of love that goes into each homemade piece of pasta or each individually rolled meatball. They don’t quite understand that beyond its delicious flavor is years of Italian blood that has carved out the meaning of family; the true reason to celebrate and be thankful.
Of course we’ll still have turkey and all the fixings, but everyone comes for the soup. After dinner we feast on a wide array of deserts. This year I’m making pilgram cookie hats. Here is what they cookies are supposed to look like. I’m guessing mine won’t look quite as lovely.
Mani’s
This past weekend, I went out to dinner with some friends. Cardin joined us for dinner and right on queue as our food arrived she puked. YIPPPEEEE. Good to know that we’re still experiencing the joys of her gag reflex 3 years later.
After I caught the majority of the puke in my hand (yep….you’ll do it too) I took Cardin to the bathroom to change her outfit. When I returned to the table some poor 16 year old sap was mopping up the remainder of the puke from the floor. I’m sure it made his shift very enjoyable.
We finished up our meal and then came back to hang out at our house. Wherein Cardin had been promised that she’d get a full manicure, compliments of my friend Michelle. We gathered the essentials and got Cardin situated so that she was fairly imobile.
Cardin selected a deep shade of purple and Michelle even drew flowers on both thumbs with a toothpick. It was getting pretty intense. Especially around the time that Michelle begin to manipulate my kid into a rowdy game of simon says by telling Cardin to “put your hand on your head” or “pat your head really fast”.
Inspired by her sudden creativity, Michelle asked Cardin whether mommy should also get a manicure. Normally I don’t wear any makeup or nail polish. I find it to be a waste of time and money. Not so for Cardin. She immediately piped in with an exaggerated “YEEEEEAAA”
I was given the prettiest set of polka dot nails any girl could ever dream of. Listen Lady, this is how deep my love is for my kid… I agreed to nail polish. AND DAYS LATER IT IS STILL ON MY FINGERS.
After we had finished our manicures, one of my nails wasn’t quite dry and I smudged one of the polka dots. Cardin now has to take role call of each one of my fingers, numerous times a day, and boisteriously points out the one nail that is messed up. The amount of OCD the child has already is unnerving.