Year in Review

Well, if there is anyone out there who is still vaguely interested in my life, I'll begin by apologizing for my two-month hiatus from blogging. I was always a terrible diary-keeper. Seriously, my high school experience is summarized in just five diary entries. All began with some pitiful nonsense resembling this: "If only he (whoever he was at the time) would look in my direction and really notice me..." followed, in some cases, by some of the most cringe-worthy attempts at poetry that you will never read. That's right, nobody will ever witness my odes to hormonal teenage misery, because I have now destroyed the evidence.

So I've decided to pat myself on the back for coming back to my blog after only two months. Remarkable, really.

I think I'll start with the best thing that happened to our family in 2008--our trip to Disney World, a.k.a. "Poppa's Folly." Not only did my father insist on paying everyone's way (including my brother and my mom--and they've been divorced for twenty years!), he also insisted that we should do the seven-day land and sea vacation. We spent three days at Disney World and stayed at the Port Orleans resort, then we took a four-day Bahamanian cruise aboard the Disney Wonder.

We tried to talk him into waiting a few years, at least until Miles is old enough to remember the trip, but, even though he walks three miles a day, my Dad is convinced that any day now he may lose an appendage in a freak accident or that his bones will suddenly crumble to dust, and then he would be too frail to witness the girls taking in their first glimpse of the big castle.

I have to say, the girls didn't disappoint. As luck would have it, we were there during the halloween season. A couple at our church had given us some spending money, and they stipulated that it must be used for something extravagant for the kids, so we splurged on the special tickets for the after-hours Mickey's Not-so-Scary Halloween party. At the time, Matt was still clinging to his "absolutely no Halloween" convictions, so I had to ease him into the idea.

"Honey, guess what?! The lady at the front desk told me all about this great party that they're having at the Magic Kingdom on Saturday night. You pay extra, and you basically have the place to yourself all night. They'll look great in the princess dresses we got them...oh, yeah, and at random intervals, people will be passing out free candy...."

The girls enjoyed their first trick-or-treating experience right there at Disney World, we got to stay until midnight, and there were basically no lines for any of the rides. The parade kicked off with the headless horseman racing through the park, so that was kind of cool. But it was a Disney villains parade, and I thought Mariah was going to have a heart attack. This is, after all, the child who had to quit swimming lessons a few summers ago because of her paralyzing fear of the butterflies that populated the pool area. Still, it was an experience we'll never forget. Check it out:

We've never had so much fun with our family. My parents were already taking us on separate vacations by the time I was old enough to really remember anything, so this was, in a way, the fulfillment of my own form of the Parent Trap fantasy. Which is why I forced everyone to get the monogrammed mouse ears. "Do we have to?" my parents asked. "Yes!" I snapped, wild-eyed. "I want it all! The matching outfits, the dorky family poses, all of it!" Mwahahahahaha...

We had a glorious time. In fact, we were so happy to be there that Disney cast members (they don't call them "staff." Even the janitors are "cast members") went out of their way to get us dining reservations and gave us free stuff. Apparently, Disney World is the farthest thing from the happiest place on earth. I watched many of the other guests who were demanding and rude, and we sat behind a couple on the bus from the airport who made no attempt to hide their distaste for our delighted children. Moral of the story: the Disney workers are surprised when they meet a truly happy, friendly, understanding person. This works out to the advantage of the happy, friendly, understanding person. It also helps if you can pull out one of these:

The bus ride to Port Canaveral took just an hour, and then we were on the boat. Most of us had never been on a cruise before, and I have it on good authority that we have now been spoiled forever. It was incredible. The children's programs were incredible, the staff was amazing, and I had an excuse to wear pretty dresses. If there is an idulgent Poppa-type in your life, I highly recommend dropping some hints about a Disney cruise.

We spent two days on Disney's private island. It was the first time our kids saw the ocean. Mariah, especially was in heaven.

The pirate party on the top deck was super fun. Arrr, me matey! By the way, Uncle John is still single, if any of you are interested...

The highlight of the trip for me came the night dad kept Miles so Matt and I could stay out late and explore the night life. For those of you who know us best, the idea of Matt and I hitting the bar is probably hilarious. Well, you're right. Most of the people our age, including my brother, were at the dance club getting their fill of Beyonce and Justin Timberlake. Matt and I found our fun across the hall, in the Cadillac lounge, where the pianist/lounge singer was doing the greatest hits of Barrily Manilow and Neal Diamond. The dim, quiet room was like a leather-upholstered nursing home serving stiff drinks to the aged. A small group of senior citizens crowded the table closest to the stage, shouting out requests. There was a tiny ancient woman in a wheelchair by the entrance. She was hooked up to oxygen, and I couldn't tell if she was awake...or alive, really. Just when I was about to go and check her pulse, they set out the midnight buffet. The smell of eggrolls revived her. Yes, these were my people. In the back corner, I sang along to the Copa Cabana.

Matt and our waitress conspired, and she approached Kenne, the lounge singer, on one of his breaks. As luck would have it, he had been singing for five days straight and wasn't sure he was going to make it through the rest of the evening. Before I knew it, there I was:

Kenne and I dazzled the night owls of the AARP set and a few of the crew with a collection of jazz standards. He is an incredible pianist, and he was pleasantly surprised at my vocal chops, as well. In fact, he invited me back to do another set with him on the final night of our sailing. I was happy to oblige.

The only problem is, now that my life-long dream of leaning against a piano in a slinky black dress singing Gershwin has come true, I don't really know what to do with my life. Any suggestions?