And . . . Dilemma

I've ran my mouth about Easter before, but have since come around. Sort of. After watching a joyful 3-year old Alexis hunt and gather eggs, I realized that the whole commercialization of Easter thing can be fun. I decided to embrace it. All of it. Every last bit of it.

And then I kind of screwed up.

While we were in Disney World, Mr. Husband and I did something completely out of character for us; We bought a somewhat high ticket item for Alexis. A 20% off coupon proved to be our drug and under it's influence, we bought a Cinderella castle. There's no arguing that $60 was a good price for the thing.  We know she will play with it hours and hours and hours and hours because it's a lot like her dollhouse, only it has been sprinkled with pixie dust.

We didn't want to deal with getting it on the plane or any possible baggage fees, so we coughed up $10 to ship it home. No big deal. It should be here any minute now.

Except.

I had absolutely no idea Easter was coming so soon after we returned from Florida. If I had connected those dots, that castle would have been a top secret project and it would be entering the house under the cover of darkness and armed guards so that it could be a Super Awesome Amazing Easter Bunny Gift. As it is, Alexis knows that it exists. She has not mentioned it even once since we got back, but I have no doubt that her little ears heard us talk about buying it and shipping it and blah, blah, blah. SHE KNOWS.

So. I kind of still want to make it her Easter gift. She will, undoubtedly, know that it's not really from the Easter Bunny. The question is, will she then doubt the existence of the Easter Bunny? Are we opening an ugly, monstrous can of worms if we give her reason to doubt the Easter Bunny? Will that lead to the end once and for all of Santa and the Tooth Fairy and the Magical Gnome Who Lives in Our Basement and Will Eat Her if She Opens Any Doors Without Mommy and Daddy? Because, really, I need those mythical creatures to stay real-ish for a little while longer.

Ugh.

She's Is Slowly Disarming Me of All of My Fun Weapons

We sat in the middle of Magic Kingdom, me with a funnel cake in front of my face and them with . . . aw, hell. I have no idea what Mr. Husband and Alexis were eating because I HAD FUNNEL CAKE. Were they eating? Were they there? I don't know. FUNNEL CAKE.

Just as I was entering Level 3 of funnel cake blissdom, the short person seated to my right shrieked like a wee wimpy girl. Fortunately, she is a girl and she is little, so I'm generally the only one that tosses her a You Sissy! look when that happens. As I shot her a You Sissy! look, somehow my subconscious remembered that I'm responsible for that sissy. It also noticed that she genuinely looked scared, so I paused Project Funnel Cake Acquisition to ask her what was wrong.

Birds were what was wrong. Stupid birds.

The kid has always been scared of them, so when two ducks flew into the seating area, she flipped her lid. I told her they were just checking to see if she was doing a good job of eating her . . . ice cream? Maybe? I forget. The funnel cake consumed my brain.

It was a completely true statement since they were there to mooch for food, but I kinda sorta worded it in a torturous way because Alexis couldn't possibly eat any slower than she does. I think she's in training for some sort of World's Slowest Eater contest. I'm sure she'll do well, but I won't actually see the end because ZOMG. I do not have the patience to sit and wait for that kid to finish eating. Both Mr. Husband and I have used the whole The Birds Will Get You thing frequently when we needed Alexis to comply. We don't do it just because it's very effective (which it is), but also because it's so funny to see her reaction.

Her reaction this particular time was a bit over-the-top. She freaked out and then she freaked out some more and the she kept on freaking out. Finally, I told the kid the ducks just wanted a bite or two to eat and then tossed over a sliver of funnel cake that had been contaminated by the very not clean table.

The male duck quickly snarfed the tiny piece of funnel cake, much to the amusement of Alexis. She was so amused by the duck's shenanigans that I, The Mother of the Year, decided to sacrifice 1/4 inch of perfectly good funnel cake. I gave it to Alexis and told her to throw it to the duck.

As one would predict, the duck snarfed that little sliver right up. Alexis, unexpectedly, started giggling. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Each time the ducks raced to inhale the tiny sliver of funnel cake Alexis had thrown, she would bust into big ol' belly laughs.

Fast forward to yesterday. Alexis and I were walking around downtown Pittsburgh on our way to see The Wizard of Oz (you're welcome if the song is now stuck in your head). A giant rat with wings suddenly came barreling down towards us. I looked around to see if @JanePitt was to blame for the dive-bombing pigeons (she's never going to admit it, but I KNOW she's nervous she's going to crash and burn at the end of Make Room for Crazy--she could very well find a way to get her minions to attack me with pigeons) (speaking of Make Room for Crazy, have you tossed in your $5 yet? Why not? THANK YOU!).

As I swung my head around, I expected a short person to start climbing me like a tree. It's what she does when she's scared. Given that there was a pigeon three feet from her, standing on the sidewalk and daring us to walk towards it, she had ample excuses to freak out.

She didn't.

Instead, she said, "Hi, birdy! Momma, I like birdies!"

WHO IS THIS ALIEN WE BROUGHT BACK FROM DISNEY?

If she keeps conquering fears like this, I'm not going to have any means to torture her.

$12, But Worth a $1 Million

I had very few goals in mind when we left for Disney:

1. Try a Dole Whip for the first time ever. (BTW, my verdict is that funnel cakes > Dole Whip)
2. Consume at least two funnel cakes. (Mission accomplished!)
3. Check out Tom Sawyer Island for the first time. (Done.)
4. Ride Tower of Terror at least twice. (Did it.)
5. Leave without a single stuffed animal.

I'm not entirely sure if I succeeded on that last one. It depends on whether or not you consider Jasmine a stuffed animal:

(Only in Orlando does hotel housekeeping make sure that a Jasmine doll is perfectly placed on the made bed.)

We buy very few souvenirs, regardless of where we go. In fact, Alexis knows that she will get to pick one thing and one thing only.  She carefully weighs her options, deliberating for a day or two before making a final decision. This year, it was Jasmine all the way. You gotta love a kid who picks out one of the cheapest things in the store, especially when it's a store that accepts the magical 20% coupons we had shoved in our pockets. (I kinda hate the giant rat for handing out 20% off coupons this year. He might as well hold a gun to my head and demand that I buy more stuff. Same result.)

Anyway, Alexis has slept with Princess Jasmine every night since she got her and has drug her pretty much everywhere. And I do mean everywhere.

She went on rides.

Multiple rides.

She visited Minnie's house, joining me in getting annoyed that Minnie doesn't have a bedroom.

And she made sure nobody wandered too far.

She's far too useful to be considered a stuffed animal, right? Right.