There are quintessential moments that you have as a parent when you realize that your offspring are truly yours. No, I'm not talking about heading to Maury Povich and guest starring on the "Who's Your Daddy?" episode. Just moments where you feel an overwhelming sense of parenthood. And then you become frightened that your own issues are going to be passed onto your kids. If I had my way, all of Elisa's wonderful characteristics would be passed onto the kids (except maybe the worrying about cooties and lunch meats that have been in the fridge for more than 3 days). My interesting characteristics would remain mine.
It was during our trip planning phase that I started worrying about Lukas. When we went to Disneyland in 2011, Luke wanted to ride absolutely everything, and found himself disappointed when a couple of rides stayed "out of reach". So when he found out we were going to Disney World, Lukas didn't just jump up and down. He did that. He had a fit of excitement where he seemed to start speaking in tongues. Eyes were rolling into the back of his head. I half expected pea soup to start frothing from his mouth (or going projectile). After the fit, he settled into one of those "Brad" things. He walked over to the computer, sat down, and wanted me to bring up...Google. Yep, this was my 5 year old. Did he want to see videos? Pictures of Mickey? Nah - he wanted a height chart. What rides could he go on and which ones would again be out of reach. After we went through every attraction, we both came to the same realization. The magic number for Lukas (within reason) was 44 inches.
At that height, Lukas could go on all but 2 rides. He was a bit disappointed that Rock 'N Roller Coaster would remain out of reach, but Expedition Everest and Space Mountain were on the docket. The problem was that he was only about 42 inches at the start of the year. He checked his height incessantly. He HAD to go on these rides. And he kept reviewing that height chart. Little did I know that he was storing that in his mind. Yes, he's just like his father. He obsesses over details and has that photographic memory. At least, I thought so. The trip would only reinforce that. Yep, on Day 4, I would realize that Lukas was my son. And I immediately started searching for a priest and a confessional. I needed forgiveness.
But that's not how the day started. In fact, it was the most relaxing and easy day of the trip so far. Day 1 was a travel day, and Days 2 and 3 had early morning character breakfasts. Today, and for the next couple days, we would be eating in the Concierge lounge. No crowds, no ordering. Just walking in and seeing a couple counters of food. On tap today was oatmeal with berries/raisins/brown sugar, danishes, bagels, cold cereals, coffee, juices, and fruit. Not bad for free, eh? When we arrived, the club lounge was a bit crowded. There weren't a lot of seats. I glanced near the back and saw an empty table, except for the front page of the USA Today. No plates. No bags. Nothing. Just the paper. So I made my way back while Elisa started getting food for the kids. I sat down and perused the newspaper. Suddenly, I was being slightly accosted. Another hotel patron was at my desk, looking at me as though I had committed grand larceny. In a weird "I'm a 50 year old thug" moment, he said "that's my paper...and my table!" In any other venue, I'd have offered to arm wrestle the guy and kick him in the shins. The was Disney World. I had to be respectful.
True to my newfound behavior of making comments under my breath, I walked away saying something about a newspaper equaling table possession. It was snarky and I was relieved that Elisa was still toasting bagels. Luckily, another table opened almost immediately...I checked the table, chairs, and crawled around underneath to make sure that there wasn't a stray USA Today with pee stains...if someone had marked their territory, I didn't want to interfere. Breakfast, after my mini tantrum about a table and a newspaper, ended up being pretty uneventful. But Lukas, Miles, and my parents were already done and Elisa and I were still eating. After all, I had fallen in love with apple danishes the day before. Today, I was going through cherry danishes as if I would never see another one in my life. So the kids and grandparents headed out to the little concierge lobby. Here, you'll find two check in tables and two very friendly concierge staff (remember Day 1? This was the Sniffles outpost!).
As I was polishing off what was probably my fourth cherry danish, Lukas walked back in. He looked smug. And to see a 5 year old smug should tell you something. Lukas walked up to me and said..."Daddy, I just need to ask you something. Tower of Terror is 40 inches, right?" My first thought was that Lukas was just excited. We were, in fact, heading to Disney's Hollywood Studios today and Tower of Terror was on the docket. I confirmed (photographic memory and all) and Lukas headed back out. We wrapped up breakfast, I gave a dirty look to Mr. USA Today (oh, and he'll be back in this blog...my first thoughts of him being a poopie pants will be later confirmed), and we walked out into the lobby. Lukas was holding a napkin with two cookies. And then was hugging one of he concierge staff. Clearly, we missed something here. As we got into the elevator, my Mom caught us up. The concierge staff had engaged Lukas in conversation. Mistake #1, because once the child knows he has an audience, watch out. Mistake #2 - she thought she knew more about Disney and height requirements than he did.
He told her that he was excited to go on Tower of Terror, but she tried to break the news. Tower of Terror had a height requirement of 48 inches. Lukas vehemently disagreed. It was 40 inches, according to mini-Brad. Clearly, this woman thought she had the upper hand. She freaking worked at Disney. So she made a bet with him. If he was right, she'd give him a cookie. If she was right, he'd give her a hug. Lukas had run in just to confirm his memory with me while she looked up the measurement. According to my Mom, as she found the actual height requirement, she actually shook her head and said "I just got schooled by an 8 year old". It was my Mom that added insult to injury - she informed her that Lukas was indeed 5. Hence, Lukas got his cookies. And for good measure, he still gave her a hug. Sure, he got the OCD height memory thingy from me. But he got his sweetness from his Mom. That was comforting.
Beach Club Resort is well positioned in Disney World. It is within walking distance of Epcot, and just a short boat ride away from Disney's Hollywood Studios. So we loaded up on the boat and we were heading out. The boat ride was pleasant, if a bit dull. We arrived at the Studios ready to charge the park. After all, the day before we had spent a good half day in Animal Kingdom and came away with a grand total of 4 rides. I was determined to be a bit more productive today. We headed down Sunset Boulevard and were ready to take on Tower of Terror. Until Lukas saw it. He did the whole beeline with a quick left turn. He wasn't ready. So my parents and I went and got on Rock 'N Roller Coaster. I remember riding this the first time and being blown away. While it was still fun, Expedition Everest had changed my perspective. It was merely a good ride now. Everest owned my soul. Off the ride, Lukas was starting to melt down again. He was afraid of seeing ghosts in Tower of Terror. At first, I wasn't going to push it. Then I decided to push him anyway (no, I didn't threaten time out...I'm not THAT bad of a parent!). But I told him to basically "man up" and live this vacation up. He pulled himself together and we went and got in line. It was a struggle. Lukas was trying to hold it together. By the time we got just outside the elevator, he had mini tears in his eyes. There was a 8-10 year old girl (sorry, I'm bad at the whole profiling thing. If anyone ever robs our house and I see him or her, my description would be along the lines of "I'm pretty sure it was a human".) that was staring at Lukas as if he needed to pull things together. Clearly, she was above this kind of behavior.
One ride later, Lukas was in love. He said that he "almost floated away" and wanted to ride again. It took me a couple seconds to hear him. Because the 8-10 year old human behind us was screaming bloody murder. The ride, it appeared, didn't agree with her. She was scared out of her mind. Kudos to Lukas for being afraid first and then finding his love of thrills. I might have giggled. I'm not ashamed to admit it. Off the ride, I looked at the clock and realized that the Disney Junior Live On Stage show was going to start in 5 minutes. I turned on the turbo jets (more in a later blog) and started weaving through the crowds. We arrived with about 12 seconds to spare, only to be told that the show was full. Grr. To make us feel better, we did some window shopping and I got the amazing opportunity to take Miles to the bathroom. I live the good life. For those interested, I had found a new approach to the potting training child. I didn't have to take his pants off. I could roll them down, lift him over the bowl, and nearly implant his cheeks in the lid. He'd go, albeit with a little hesitation. But it sped things up. I was a master father.
With time to spare (we had an hour until the next Disney Junior show), we walked over and rode the Great Movie Ride. It was fine. Nothing to necessarily write home about, but it passed the time. As we exited however, I looked at my watch. Was it really possible that was only had 5 minutes before the next Disney Junior show? Turbo jets on, I might have taken out two tour groups on the way. We arrived and I parked the stroller. This time, we were one of the last ones in. But we were in. This was one of those good parenting moments. Watching Lukas (and Miles, a little) dance and sing with his Disney Junior pals was awesome. And then I realized that they were 5 and 2, and I was over 30. Sitting criss cross apple sauce for 20 minutes isn't so hot on the legs. I felt both legs fall asleep, and then started to dread standing up. I became a contortionist. I was doing whatever I could to relieve the dead leg. Nearby onlookers might have thought that I was resisting the urge to break out in my very own Hot Dog dance.
Before we knew it, the show was over, and wouldn't you know it? It was lunch time. But this wasn't any old lunch time. This was a meal I had been looking forward to since our last visit in 2004. And trust me, it didn't disappoint. We would be eating at 50's Primetime Cafe. For those unseasoned travelers, this is a restaurant with a theme. It is set up to look like the kitchens of the 1950's. You know - the Dennis The Menace, Leave It To Beaver TV world. To take it even further, the menu supports things like Meatloaf, Fried Chicken, and homemade milkshakes. That could be fun in and of itself. But it is the server that makes this one special. Because they act like Mom. And in a not so nice way. In 2004, our server referred to me as "Scooter" and Elisa as "Sunshine" for the entire meal. It was so memorable that my parents had given us Christmas ornaments that year with our 50's Primetime Cafe names written on them. This year, we took it to a new level - or at least my immaturity did.
When our server arrived, we were instantly admonished for having our elbows on the table. I was told to set the table (yep, there was a pile of dishes on the table) and my Dad was provided with the moniker of "Skippy". For awhile, things just remained in the awkward stage. The server seemed to zero in on me, loudly talking about how I was just a beautiful baby when I was growing up and that I had smiled at her, which made her day. Then someone told her that it was just me passing gas, and that explained everything she needed to know about me (Elisa was nodding a little too fervently at that). The food arrived, and we set out to eat. Near the end of the meal, I remembered 2004. They had provided green beans with my meal (I'm not a fan), and I had gotten in trouble for not eating them. So I had a plan. This year's meal had collard greens, which my father loved. So I was going to be sneaky. I started moving my collard greens onto his plate.
The world slowed down, and I heard her from behind me. "Mom" had seen it all. I was in trouble. As she started to really get after me, she saw her opportunity. She put me in time out. No, I didn't have to sit quietly. She announced in front of the entire restaurant that I had been playing with my food and had been tossing it about. She picked up a napkin, put it on the wall, and told me to hold it there...with my head. Yep, I was in timeout in the middle of the restaurant. Luckily, I don't have a problem making a fool of myself. I jumped right into it. She then made me scream at the top of my lungs that I was a bad boy and would not toss my food again. Lukas was simply dying. He'd never seen anything so funny. I loved the look on his face. I sat down, clearly letting it sink in that perfect strangers had started cat calling me when she asked if I could come out of time out. Later in the meal, she then had the entire table shame me for putting those damned elbows on the table again. In a weird twist, she had us all say the little rhyme of shame...only at the end when I found myself pointing at...myself, did I realize I was in trouble again.
We escaped lunch and I was still being laughed at by Lukas. No less than 12 times on the rest of the trip, he would keep asking me "Daddy why do you always get put in time out at restaurants?" I then realized that Lukas was 5...memories would stick with him. My child would always remember that Daddy got put in time out. I was thrilled. Elisa, I think, was embarrassed. But what else is new? For a few minutes, we meandered through some shops and my Dad bought Lukas a Tower of Terror pin for his pin collection (to commemorate his bravery). While I had hoped to be more productive, we still sat at the midday point and had only been on 4 rides. I think we were cursed. We had other hopeful plans for the afternoon, though, so we took the boat back to the hotel and got the kids naps.
Upon their waking, we were itching for some more fun but needed something a bit more than the pool at our hotel. So we packed the kids up and headed for Blizzard Beach. Disney World has two water parks on property. Blizzard Beach is themed to be a ski resort that has melted. Very creative. We arrived with good parking and headed into the park. Not really knowing how the kids would do, we moved over to Tike's Peak (Disney's SO creative!" and tried to get Miles a bit used to the water. Lukas started going on the kid's waterslides and Miles warmed up to splashing. With that out of the way, we graduated to the lazy river. We secured tubes (My Mom, Dad, and Lukas on a double, Miles on a toddler sized tube, and Elisa on her own. I walked through the river, making sure everyone stayed together.
As we neared a cave with waterfalls, Elisa told me that I couldn't get her hair wet if I wanted to be on time for dinner (har har, dear!), so I proceeded to take hold of my parent's tube and aim it under the biggest waterfalls. All three got soaked. My Mom had the look that plainly said "you just lost a couple Christmas presents". In my excitement, though, I stopped aiming Elisa properly. She got hammered by a waterfall, and I adjusted her right into another one. I was making fans all over the place. If I wasn't careful, Elisa would put me time out in the lazy river. Soon, even the lazy river started to lose the interest of the kids so we got out and tried to explore. Lukas wanted to go on Teamboat Springs, a family tube slide that could seat 4-6 in each large tube. Elisa wasn't having it. She took Miles back to the kiddie pools, and Lukas, my parents, and I took the long walk up to the top of the mountain. When we got in and started, my Mom was a bit worried and afraid. I was just wondering how this ride survived. Waterslides are simply small pieces of slide put together, so there are obviously grooves. I felt each grove of each slide section. This should have been called Assboat Springs. Good grief, by the time I was done, I had a specific number of grooves stuck in my head. Lukas loved it though. In all actuality, it was quite fun. You just "felt" a bit more than you bargained for.
We went to find Elisa and dragged her onto Teamboat Springs as well. Everyone had a good time, but it was nearing time for the water park to close, so we headed back to let the kids do some child sized water slides. When Elisa had originally opted out of the bigger slide, she had moved Miles from just splashing to going on small water slides. Now, he wanted to go on the largest kid's slides of all, but Elisa couldn't be at the top and bottom so that didn't happen until we all got back together. After one ride, Miles was hooked. We developed a pattern where I would drop him off on the slide, he would head down, Elisa would pick him up, and my Dad would carry him back halfway. It was adorable. Every time I set him down, he'd say "See you later daddy!" and then take off. At the bottom, he'd say "let's do that again!" This was fun until he had gone on the water slide at least 12 times. We played the "just one more!" game for about 4 more rides, and then dealt with the mini tantrum as we left the park.
Once back in the hotel, we showered and got ready for the evening's festivities. On tonight's schedule was a new hotel resort. We would head to Port Orleans, for some Louisiana soul food and a recreation of one of the most memorable nights of the 2004 trip. As a date night on that trip, I had taken Elisa to Port Orleans and we took a carriage ride. It was so peaceful. Elisa nearly fell asleep, and then we saw fireworks from Epcot on the way back. As an interesting side note (is anyone still reading), this singular event led to the strangest date night we've ever had. Once we returned from Disney World in 2004, we wanted to recreate the carriage ride moment. We went to stay at Homestead for a weekend and I arranged for a romantic carriage ride nearby. We got on the wagon, and for the next hour, held onto dear life. I was physically sore by the time we were done. It was bouncing all over the place. It was like the dirt road had potholes. The thought of romance went out the window and Elisa and I spent the entire hour laughing. Romance, indeed!
We headed to dinner and waited for quite awhile for our table. Maybe being 10 minutes late didn't help our cause...I'm just saying. We finally did sit down and I had some fabulous gumbo. My Dad had crawfish etoufee (sp?). I asked him a couple of times if he was enjoying it, because he had a kind of sour expression. He first said he did, and then made an offhanded comment about not having french bread with it. I thought nothing of it. Near the end of the meal, the kids were starting to lose the attention span, and Miles had to (this will surprise you) be taken to the bathroom. As I got up to leave the table, I heard my Dad begin his education of etoufee to the server. I heard "traditionally" and "french bread" before I sprinted for the bathroom. Even a potty training child would be better than seeing this.
By the time we re-congregated, I was sure that the server was wishing this had happened before our meal, so he could have spit in our food. As it was, though, the server learned about french bread and I was ready for our carriage ride. Because we were a party of 6, we actually got two carriages. Selfishly, I pawned the children off to the grandparents so Elisa and I could have a little private time. And it was wonderful. I did have a strange conversation with the driver, though. When we first sat down, a sign dominated the carriage. It said "Tips are absolutely, positively, not expected or allowed to any cast member". I inquired by saying "that's too bad that we can't tip you!" She immediately went into her "it's more a of a guideline, not a rule" and broken down the very intricate tipping/split policy in Disney World. After she had gone on for about 5 minutes, I annoyingly asked "so does that mean we can tip you?" Elisa elbowed me in the ribs.
As we were nearing the end of our carriage ride, the other carriage started radioing in. Something about giving directions on the route. She was clearly alerting someone to something on the way. After we parked and paid (our carriage ride was done first), we waited for the kids to get back. They arrived, and the two drivers had a conversation about where her horse had dropped a few pounds of manure. Apparently, this is what you get for having carriage rides at a hotel resort. I can only imagine the excitement of a child to find a big pile of "mud" while the parent hopelessly looks on. In the time that we had all paid, I knew that the Disney way had taken over. Somewhere on the carriage ride route, a poor Disney cast member was shoveling manure. And saying to passerbys "Have a Disney Day!"
So ends Day 4. I'm proud of myself. I kept this to a single blog post. I'm growing as a person. Unbelievably, we're still not even halfway through the trip. That comes tomorrow, on Day 5. Here's what to expect: join me for the return of Mr. USA Today, Universal Park envy from a Disney employee, the survey that just doesn't give in, Butterbeer reviews, a visit from the Incredibly Hulk, and an end to my surfire shortcut on potty training restroom stops. Wheeee!
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