Let's Face It, We Are a Weird and Backwards Family

I am sniffling, and I'm sick of it.  My nose has been dripping like a faucet since September, and the past 24 hours have been nearly constant.  I think I might lose my mind.  Allergies suck, and I want to go back to Florida.

What, you say?  Florida?  Won't that make your allergies worse?

No, no it won't, because I'm part of this crazy, mixed-up, backwards family.  Toddler and I both found our seasonal allergies improving the further south we went.  For me, this fall has been a miserable one, with my worst allergy attacks coming up in Pennsylvania, and my best days by far being in Orlando, Florida.  Sadly, no place seems to give me complete relief from the incessant sneezing and nose blowing (so attractive), but I have noticed a distinct change each time I cross the Georgia/South Carlolina border.  North of the border, my stuffiness is worse.  South of the border (the actual border, not the giant tourist trap), my symptoms improve.

What is up with that?  After just spending a weekend in State College with a tissue (okay, a series of tissues continually ripped out of the box) in my hand for 48 straight hours, I just want to go back to Florida.  And, no, the tissues were not for the tears during the game, although Toddler did give off several of his own, poor guy.  No one likes a really bad loss, and this was a really bad one.

Speaking of Florida, I have to say that Toddler's reaction to Disney World held some surprises too.  Now, keep in mind that this Disney-crazed family has had this child at The Happiest Place on Earth 4 times before he was 3 1/2.  He is no stranger to Disney or Mickey Mouse, but, being that he is very young, each time is a bit like a brand new adventure.

Take the Winnie the Pooh ride for example.  Two years ago, and again last summer, Toddler thought the Winnie the Pooh ride was the coolest thing on Earth.  I have pictures of him staring around hm in rapt attention.  This time, he screamed and cried in line and attempted to refuse to get into the car (until he realized it was a ride, then he was all for it).  But, when the lights "went out" (read, "dim slightly and display psychedelic colors") Todder began a plaintive wail of, "It's very dark in here. [It wasn't.]  How are we going to get out of here?  We have to get out of here!"  Of course, at the end of the ride, he said, "Can we do it again?" 

These general themes were repeated at various points around the Magic Kingdom.

Let's take the PhilharMagic as another example.  This 3D movie experience is a long-time favorite of me, DH, and Toddler.  This year, however, was Toddler's first year actually wearing the 3D glasses.  Shortly into the movie, when things were spinning around on a fairly dark screen, and things were "flying" at us from the screen, Toddler jumped down off his chair, clung to me, and whispered (as only a child can whisper loudly), "They ARE NOT GOING TO GET ME!"

I guess I don't have to wonder if he got the benefit of the 3D effect.  Clearly, he did.  You will be reassured to know that after a few hugs, he was fine.  In fact, he enjoyed the movie enough to ask to "do it again."  After that first little incident, our most difficult part was convincing him that he absolutely had to return the 3D glasses no matter how much he wanted to keep them.

So, here we are, DH and me, thinking that with the weepy reaction we are getting in the "dark" parts of some of these rides, we'd best avoid the ones that can be really scary, like the Haunted Mansion.  I mean, with the 1 billion other rides and shows, we can skip that one this year.  After all, Toddler was a big fan of Goofy's Barnstormers roller coaster and really wanted to ride it again and again and again.  It seemed like a fair trade.

The next day, though, we just could not pass up the chance to ride Ellen's "dinosaur ride" in the Universe of Energy at Epcot.  I mean ... it's dinosaurs that blow snot on you, and a cool movie to boot.  What is better?  But then, there was Toddler and that newly developing, "It's very dark in here," schtick he was perfecting.  What to do?  Skip the ride?  Heck no!  I'll just hold the little jumping bean and try to keep any crying lower than the decibles of the speakers, right?

Well, not quite.

He loved the ride.

Every blessed minute of it.

No fear in sight.

The child freaks out on Winnie the Pooh and loves the growling, snarling, man-eating dinosaurs in the Universe of Energy. 

Let's face it.  We are a weird and backwards family.  We should have gone on the Haunted Mansion.