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Weekend in Crappy Pics – Disney World!

October 28, 2013 Written by One Classy Motha

Hey there! How was your weekend? Well, we did NOTHING. Absolutely nothing, which I didn’t think was possible- yet here I am, unshowered and in the same yoga pants that I wore to bed Friday night. A true & shameful testament to laziness. But we just got back from a 5 day Disney World vacation, which is the equivalent of walking around the globe 3 times, so can you really blame me?

Instead of sharing my weekend in crappy pics (which would be me sitting on the couch eating nachos), I’m going to share some pics from our trip. But before you poke your eyes out, I’m not sharing “Happiest Place on Earth” park pics, you can go on www.disney.com for that. No, these are a little less than glamorous.

Week in Crappy Pics

When we checked in at the airport, Brian surprised me with a first class ticket…for just me! He was going to be sitting with the kids in our usual “Shitter Row” (last row next to the bathrooms) while I received first class attention.

Hooray! I was so happy!

And then I boarded the plane…

I could tell by his screaming, thrashing, and continuous back arching, little Oliver was not a fan of plane travel…or life. Luckily, wine is complementary in first class and my “I’m going to need a bigger glass.” was met with both sympathy and understanding by the flight attendant.

While drinking my second glass (we still hadn’t left the gate) and making small talk with Oliver’s mother (who struggled to contain him), I thought, “This isn’t so bad” and then I was proven wrong…

DAMN IT, OLIVER!

Wine everywhere, even on the baby. That kid smelled like liquor and rotten soy milk (he’s allergic to dairy), not a pleasant combination.

After rolling around the wet floor and saturating his pants with chardonnay and possibly urine, he climbed into my lap and sucked on the handmade designer pendent hanging around my neck.

But by then I was on my third glass, so I didn’t mind.

Our First Day – Magic Kingdom

She was so excited!

But the moment we entered the park something pissed her off. Maybe the heat? a hangnail? my breathing? Who knows.

Me – “Cheer up. Aren’t you excited to see Mickey Mouse?”

Ana – “No! I DON’T LIKE Mickey Mouse! And I HATE Disney World!”

I heard a sudden and collective gasp from the crowd- this was blasphemy!

Mothers rushed to cover their children’s ears, babies started crying, and men wearing fanny packs shook with newly discovered testosterone.

I did the only thing I could think of, I grabbed her and ran. I ran fast and far from the Disney zealots until we reached a watering hole, then I stuck her in it to literally and figuratively cool off. Cinderella dress and all.

I’m pretty sure this was a Disney baptism in disguise because her demons were gone when we dried her off.

Day 2 – Epcot

We met up with my Aunt and cousins to enjoy Epcot’s Food & Wine Festival. Did you really think this trip was all about the kids? hahahaha

Being a responsible adult, I didn’t want to drink and drive Ana’s stroller so I had Collin push her around.

And she made him her stroller beotch!

Day 3 – Typhoon Lagoon Water Park

Yeah…no pics here. But trust me when I tell you that we (except Brian) snorkeled with Leopard Sharks, Sting Rays, and various fish. Ana was all about it, Collin needed a little convincing though:

Collin: So what’s in there?

Me: Leopard sharks and sting rays. It’s totally safe.

Collin: Oh, ok.

Collin: Wait a second…how did that Steve Irwin guy die again?

Me: Um…oh look, there’s Donald Duck!

Day 4 – Animal Kingdom

Animal Kingdom was great! But the real highlight was this:

The cops pulling us over on our way home.

Brian: Oh, great. I think they got me speeding

Kim: Nah, it was the red light you ran.

Brian: It could have been the illegal u-turn.

The policeman walked up:
Police Officer: I stopped you because your taillights aren’t working

He ended up giving us a warning because it was a rental car and we didn’t know how to use the headlights, and we were clearly clueless idiots.

But the best part of the whole thing was watching Brian’s parents slowly passing us by in their car, his dad shaking his head and his mom’s face pressed against the window, worried that her little boy was going to the slammer.

Day 5 – Hollywood Studios

Collin conquered a few rides that he refused to ride last time we were here.

And Ana was ecstatic to watch Mickey Mouse Clubhouse live as it featured all of her favorites, Sophia, Doc McStuffins, and Jake & the Neverland Pirates.

It was wonderful to see all the children clapping and dancing to the opening song. But then they announced technical difficulties and parents began quietly shitting their pants.

Thankfully, it was back up and running in less than 3 minutes. If it had lasted any longer, I’m convinced the kids would have stormed the stage.

Departure

We were sad to leave but, at the same time, we couldn’t walk one more mile, ride one more ride, or apply anymore Gold Bond medicated powder (we were all out).

How was our flight home? Well, no first class ticket for me BUT I was thrilled that we weren’t stuck in shitter row again! Our seats were actually located in the middle of the plane this time. What a nice change 🙂

Then I sat in my seat…

My “middle of the plane” seat was next to the “middle of the plane” toilet. Are your kidding me?! Here’s my view:

Remember this: there’s only one thing worse than Shitter Row, and that’s…Shitter Alley.

How was your weekend?

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Have you read about the worst Halloween costume ever? No? Then you gotta head over to The Shitastrophy! She’s absolutely nuts!

 

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An Airport Parade- A guest post

October 25, 2013 Written by One Classy Motha

We’re on our way home from Disney today! In fact, I’m probably sitting in Shitter Row (the last row, next to the toilet) at this very moment. But don’t feel sorry for me, I like this crappy seat as it gives me plenty of opportunity to make awkward small talk with those waiting to use the potty, and that could lead to a new (yet questionable) friendship! I guess you could call me a “bladder half full” kinda girl.

Moving on, Today is my last (but just as special) guest post….

I first fell in love with Erin’s blog, Life in the Hood, when she wrote a post about getting a simple haircut…a simply hilarious haircut! You see, Erin has this uncanny ability to find humor in even the most mundane situations…and the not so mundane, like this recent airport experience:

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An early morning flight, flying alone with my babe, I understandably wished for no hiccups in the itinerary, no loud noises, and no sudden movements.

Passing one of those airport shops that sells a useless variety of items with whatever location stamped all over them, I noticed a sign with two college-age kids, a boy and girl, modeling sweatshirts.

For some reason, the way the boy looked, with his asinine sweatshirt and mediocre good looks and middle of the road smile, made me want to park my stroller for a second and jump kick that sign right there, right in that kid’s face.

It was that kind of morning.

So the tween cheerleaders blocking the flight information screens, squealing and practicing stunts more for their own benefit than the throngs of confused travelers passing by, did not impress me.

But I couldn’t help but watch as one girl, all legs, seemed to have discovered she could do the splits right then and there on the cold tile of Regan airport.

She just stayed forever like that, her torso bowed and balancing like she grew up out of the ground that way, her eyes wild with excitement and fear. It didn’t appear she knew what to do with this new skill or how to stand back up.

I needed her to stand back up, though, because I couldn’t peel my eyes off her until she did, and I hadn’t even made it through security yet.

But she seriously would not stand up.

With strength I didn’t know I had, I ripped myself away, somewhat irritated at the inexplicable presence of cheerleaders at 8 am.

It made me glad to go through security where people like cheerleaders and cheerleader parents who weren’t reserving their energy for a day of travel would be sifted out.

Imagine my surprise after getting through security when, instead of tired people waiting in their seats at the gate, there was a brass band. And instead of suits and ties with rolling suitcases exiting the jet way, there was a procession of WWII veterans in wheelchairs moving at the same speed as grass growth, and about fifty people lined up on either side, cheering and waving like these old wrinkles were floats in a parade.

How did all these people get through security?!

I thought of requesting a refund for the 9/11 security fee I had been required to pay, as my $10 obviously had not worked in keeping me safe from the terrorism of zealots.

But again, despite my extreme state of irritation, I couldn’t help but watch.

I wondered how on earth all these people had so much zest at such an ungodly hour, and then I spotted the reason.

And the reason was fear.

Their cheerleader, possibly Hitler’s sister, weighing in at eight pounds and wearing an American flag scarf, marched up and down the procession, waving an American flag like a orchestra conductor and attaching her beady eyes to anyone who dared for one second not cheer for her beloved veterans.

I almost felt I should cheer too lest she gouge my eye out with her flag, but I resisted on grounds that it was only the first leg of my trip, I had to save my energy.

Besides, it wasn’t my grandpa getting off that honor flight.

Yeah, they did a great thing risking their lives serving our country, but let’s not act like war is such a glorious thing that we let non-travelers clog airport terminals and assault the ears of citizens who may not have had any coffee yet in order to celebrate it.

Despite their obtrusive presence, the honor flight parade did make an attempt at being considerate.

Whenever an announcement came over the intercom, all cheering and tuba tooting came to a halt, replaced by, “Deborah Langston to gate E9, last call for Deborah Langston. E9.”

Until it came time to make an announcement regarding my flight.

“Flight 2974 with service to Charlotte-“ the woman started.

Before she had a chance to finish, someone with a louder speaker announced there was,
“Another honor flight ladies and gentlemen!”

Why were they having the parade right there in the airport anyway? There had to be a less annoying place to do this.

What was the rush? Were they worried some might not make it the twenty minutes it takes to exit the airport?

I finally did make it past the cheery people and news crew to board my flight. My jet way, it appeared, had been used for an honor flight earlier as banners still hung from the ceiling. I guess since everyone was in a wheelchair, it was no problem to hang them with three feet of clearance.

As I ducked under the banners and the music from the brass band faded, I thought of all the generations out there cheering on their grandpas, and felt grateful for my grandpas making it out of the war alive, because without them, there would never have been me, and without me there never would have been the precious little life I now pushed in his stroller.

It made me think of how many families were never started with the potential grandpas lost in war. And if there never were war, what would all those annoying people have to do so early in the morning?

And the question we really need to ask is, without war and all this hoopla, would that girl have ever realized she could do the splits?

Erin is Personal Offspring Life Manage and a stay-at-home-mom, though her offspring and she do not stay home much. Also, she is a world traveler, a mountain biker on a breastfeeding hiatus, and an English major. To use her degree wisely, she writes the blog “Life in the Hood“, which is written in English.

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The Most Embarrassing Thing I’ve Ever Done – A Guest Post

October 24, 2013 Written by One Classy Motha

Day 5 of our Disney vacation, and for those keeping track of my inner thigh chaffing condition, I wore pants today. Sweet, barrier between my funky-chunky thighs, pants.

Although today was spent at Animal Kingdom and Epcot, the real highlight was being pulled over by the police on our way home. As soon as the sirens started, we played a rousing game of “Let’s Guess Which Law We Broke”. There were no winners, only first & second place losers. More on that when I return.

Today’s guest post is by one of my favorites, the hilariously relatable, Dani from Cloudy, With a Chance of Wine. I swear she’s been through it all! You think you’ve had bad hotel accommodations? Ha! She was booked in the Philippine Red Light district. Attend a crappy wedding? Umm, she actually got the craps from a wedding. Ever make an ass of yourself at the gym? I bet not like this…
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One of the most embarrassing things I’ve ever done is fall off of a treadmill.

Twice.

It happened when I was 18. It was my first year away from home, and my first time dealing with winter since I was a kid, and I was sooooo homesick.

So I ate.

A lot.

In the span of about 7 months, I put on 30 lbs.

When spring rolled around that year, on one of my many visits to my Grandparents’ house, my Grandmother came down to greet me and said, “Oh, Dani! You’ve gotten fat!” I’d never been called that in my life. So I joined a gym.

My intention was to stick with things I was familiar with, like Step Reebok classes (remember those?!), but I was given a one-month complimentary pass to use the weight and exercise machines. I figured I had to at least TRY some of the equipment out, and decided I’d go for a run.

Now, I’ve never really had the stamina to run long distances, but everyone made it look so easy. So I started out with a brisk walk, gradually increased the speed until I was jogging, and as I looked around, I actually felt like I fit in.

It was glorious.

But within 2 minutes, that feeling came to a screeching halt.

I was having a hard time breathing, and my attempts to reduce the speed of that damn machine weren’t working, so I eventually just gave up. Yes, that’s right. I just stopped running. And, drama queen that I am, I threw my arms up over my head at the exact moment that my whole body was pushed backwards and smacked into the wall behind me.

Everyone went silent and turned to stare at me.

Now, a normal person would’ve laughed it off, grabbed her things, and headed for the shower. But not me. Nope, I decided to get back on that treadmill and show everyone a little fall wasn’t going to bring me down.

It took a few minutes to psych myself up to do it, but eventually I took a deep breath, put one foot on the treadmill, and then the other foot, and (literally) attempted to hit the ground running.

But the darn thing flung me off.

Imagine my embarrassment when the woman next to me reached over and pressed the red STOP button.

How had I missed that button?

And where was she the FIRST time I fell off?!

Dani Ryan is the mom of one beautiful girl who has already developed a love for iPhones and Coach purses. About 3 years ago, she traded in her business suits and nylons for yoga pants and stained tee-shirts. She now spends her days reading Sandra Boynton books and wiping food off the kitchen floor, and has a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. In her free time, she writes about parenting and general nothingness on her humor blog, Cloudy, With a Chance of Wine.
She can also be found on Twitter, Facebook, and Pinterest.
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The 10 Most Awesome Things About Having a Physical Disability – A Guest Post

October 23, 2013 Written by One Classy Motha

Day 4 of our Disney vacation and it seems like I might have overestimated the effectiveness of Gold Bond Medicated Powder…dear god, it feels like my nether regions were the scene of a porcupine turf war, and both sides lost. 

Moving on.  Today’s fabulous guest post is by the wonderful Meredith from Pile of Babies.  I loooove me some Meredith! Everytime her post is delivered to my inbox, I read it immediately because she’s so freaking funny! When you’re done reading this, you have to check out her recent post about bad holiday gift ideas– I was peeing my pants!

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I have a physical disability: I was born without fingers on my right hand. Don’t worry, it’s cool. Bitches love nubbins.

…Actually, no they don’t. I’m not even sure why I said that. I think it’s because I was trying really hard to make this a post that had no swearing or inappropriate humor, and I cracked after two sentences.

Sorry.

Anyway, one thing I’ve noticed from living a life with a handicap is that a lot of people assume that your disability is something to be sorry about. Like your life would be somehow better if you didn’t have it. Well, the joke’s on you, fools! The truth is that there is all kinds of awesome going on when you are missing a body part or two or three or…what’s the maximum number of parts you can lose before you’re a head? I’m going to use broad strokes and say five.

Here are my top nine most awesome things about having a physical disability:

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Join us. (image via markramseymedia.com)

1. If you love attention, boy do I have a gig for you!

Ever wonder what it’s like to be famous? To go to the grocery store and have people give you a double take? Do you enjoy being gazed at in adoration and/or horror by people you don’t know? Get yourself a physical disability. Every day of your life you’ll feel like Angelina Jolie, if Angelina Jolie had survived a horrible house fire.

2. “So sorry, my hand isn’t thinking straight.”

You can use your disability as an excuse for the most random things, and even the most enlightened people will think it over for a second before calling you on your bullshit.

“Dear Professor Dumbledore, I am so sorry that I missed my exam this morning. See, my finger-less hand was acting up, which made walking impossible.”

“Dear supervisor, I apologize for calling my co-worker Brad an ‘insufferable miserable cock-wielding nightmare.’ I’m afraid my lack of limb got the better of me today. It won’t happen again.”

3. You get to stand with the oppressed. It’s where the cool kids are.

You know all those people who are gay and/or not white and/or of a religion that doesn’t start with “C”? These are your people when you are disabled. And it has been my experience that the most kick-ass people are the ones who have had to deal with a whole lot of adversity. Nothing gives you perspective like being told you can’t have a job because of the person you’re married to. Or that the apartment you came to look at just got leased the moment they saw your skin color. And honestly, nothing is funnier than the saddest experiences you’ve ever had; so come sit by me, and we shall tell tales and laugh about whitey/straight people/assholes who can walk. It’s gonna be a good time.

4. We have the Paralympics: they’re like the regular Olympics, only harder.

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Please, bitches. (image via wikipedia)

“Hey, did you see the winter Olympics? Man, those skiers were amazing.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you talking about the skiers with two legs? Yeah, really inspiring. ‘Hey, look at me! I’ve got one leg per ski and an arm for each pole!’ I bet that takes a lot of skill and all kinds of inventive assistive devices. What’s that? It just takes practice? Oh, I see. Well, that sounds hard, too.”

5. It’s easy to id the bad guys.

Basically, if someone screams or can’t stop staring when they see my disability, they go into a certain box. And in that box, I am liable to stroke their faces gently with my nubs, or perhaps see if I can stick just the tip of one into their mouths.

6. You get to check that box on forms.

As a white woman, I don’t get to check a whole lot of special boxes on forms.

“Are you a veteran?” No. My fear reflex involves a whole lot of urination.

“What is your race/ethnicity?” Just white bread whitey white white.

“Are you disabled?” Why…yes. Yes I am.

Guess who’s getting to the interview before they learn I’m not qualified? This gal, right here.

7. “Thanks, I’ll just supervise.”

Worried about carrying heavy things? Don’t feel like helping when your best friend moves? Excellent. I’ll save you a spot on the couch.

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“You’re doing great, Grandpa! Just hold still! Also, good call wearing the socks on the hardwood floor! Small steps, please.” (image via prioritymoving.com)

8.Thanks to Oscar Pistorious, you can now be the “good kind” of disabled person.

Before, they pitied us. Now, they fear us. Oscar Pistorious, the Olympic runner who is also a double amputee, murdered his girlfriend last year like an asshole. Now, let’s just say some generalizations are being made.

“You should meet my friend Bill! He’s really cool. You should know, though, that he doesn’t have any legs.”

“Excellent. I shall bring my gun in case I need to use it for self-defense.”

“…What are talking about?”

“You know…Pistorious? What if he’s one of those crazy cripples who likes to murder people?”

“Oh no no no — he’s a nice guy. Really articulate, doesn’t shove his lifestyle down your throat, you know. All those things that make difference comfortable for us.”

“Nice! Do you think he’ll let me touch a leg?”

9. People assume that you’re brave

I am a coward. I am afraid of heights and people and driving on steep hills. So if people want to think that I am brave because I walk around with my hand out and my freak flag flying, that is cool with me. I’ll take it. Sure, you can call me courageous. “Hero” is also a word that doesn’t get thrown my way quite enough, but I think we can both agree that it applies.

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So the next time you run into someone who is missing a leg, or has both arms cut off at the elbow, pick them up and apologize (the dude’s missing a leg, for chrissakes), and then tell them how lucky they are. And when they ask why, tell them because of Oscar Pistorious and heavy boxes. And then walk away proudly, knowing they will have a great story to tell their friends.

 

Meredith Bland is a freelance writer and award-winning humor blogger.  You can read her nonsense at Pile of Babies.

 

My sponsor GiftsForYouNow.com has like a BAZILLION gifts that you can personalize for Christmas (or any occasion). I bet they have a tree skirt for my wine glass.

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