No Sugar and Spice, But Life Is Still Nice

I am a mother of three boys.  When you add a husband and male dog into the mix, I am clearly a woman swimming in a sea of testosterone.  I am a girly girl living in a guys’ world.  I’m a dress-wearing, hair-curling, pink-loving kind of gal.  I love to shop and decorate and make crafts. I adore antique furniture and vintage hats and gloves.  I collect teacups and bits and pieces of sterling silver.  I have not one but four sets of china.  I am just about as girly as it gets.

I love my boys with all of my heart and when I found out my third baby was going to be a boy, I tried not to let it bother me.  I already had two boys whom I adore and knew that my third boy would be just as amazing as the first two, yet deep down inside I felt a strange pain clawing its way up to the surface.  Several days later, it hit me that I was not having a little girl and my world was tipped off of its axis.  How could this be?  How could I not have a daughter?  Who would I pass all of my girly antiques on to one day when I was old and gray?  I would never have a daughter to go shopping with or go to lunch with.  I would never go prom dress shopping or have “the talk” with my little girl.  I would never stand next to my daughter in the delivery room just like my mom did with me all three times.  I would never have all of the experiences I have had with my mom and grandmother.  As these facts became clear to me, I became depressed and guilty.  I was depressed that I would be missing out on the mother-daughter relationship I had always dreamed about.  I felt guilty for being disappointed that the beautiful, wonderful, healthy baby in my belly was a boy.

I struggled and cried in secret.  I was ashamed of my feelings.  And then after a few days of really looking into myself, I came to the realization that it was and is ok to feel that way.  There is nothing wrong for having wanted a daughter and in the end I allowed myself to mourn the relationship I will never have.  I gave myself time to grieve and reflect on my feelings and past expectation.  After a few weeks, I came out on the other end feeling so much better and ready to parent my three boys in a way that will make them wonderful husbands to someone else’s daughters.  I realized that having three healthy, happy, and wonderful sons is my path in life.  I was put on this earth to teach my boys how to treat a woman right and how to live their lives with respect and dignity.  And lucky for my boys and me, I have a wonderful husband who consistently sets just such an example for them.

The other day, my mom spent the day tending to and laying in bed with my sick grandmother.  They talked about jewelery and clothes and what was on QVC.  Sometimes they laid in silence, both lost in their memories.  My mom told me it was something just a mother and daughter could do together.  While I was happy that my mom and grandmother shared that time together, the statement instantly hit me in the heart.  I cannot deny my disappointment that I will not get to experience these same moments with my own daughter.  I don’t think that it is something I will ever get over.  But I would never, ever trade my beautiful boys and all of the amazing moments we share now and will share in the future for anything.

Pumpkin Waffle Recipe

This morning, our family kicked off Thanksgiving week with homemade pumpkin waffles.  They were amazing and super easy to make.  Happy Cooking!

Pumpkin Waffle Recipe
2 1/3 cups of Bisquick mix
1 1/2 cups milk
1/2 cup canned pumpkin (not pumpkin pie mix)
1/4 natural applesauce (no sugar or corn syrup added)
2 tablespoons packed brown sugar
1 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
2 eggs

Directions
1.  Preheat your waffle iron as you normally would and grease with cooking spray.
2.  Mix all of the ingredients above with a whisk until smooth.  Poor onto hot waffle iron and close the lid.
3.  Cook for about five minutes or until steaming stops and the waffle is golden brown.  Top with maple syrup, whip cream, or apple butter.

The Wanna Be Perfectionist

As a mother, I always try to put my best foot forward.  I try to offer my children a lot of enriching experiences and work hard to guide them into being polite and well behaved.  A mommy friend of mine once said that she was jealous of how much I “had it all figured out” as a mom.  I remember looking at her in shock and thinking to myself, “…if she only knew…”

I’m here to state for the record that I don’t have it all together—not even close.  I’m a joke and a sham.  I do get out with the kids a lot.  I do teach my kids about new and different things.  I bake cookies and cakes with them and read to them.  But then there’s the other side of me–the side that kept me from having play dates at my house for the first four years of my oldest son’s life.  The side of me that shutters at the thought of a friend stopping by for a surprise visit.  My house is a mess.  That’s it.  There it is.  As I type this, there is a Leaning Tower of Pisa of Laundry that I am clearly neglecting to fold.  My house is not dirty…it’s messy.  I am terribly unorganized.  My entryway and master bedroom closets are downright danger zones.  I wish I could get it together enough to be one of those super moms who keeps their house super neat and tidy, but I just can’t do it.  I’ve tried.

I am terribly embarrassed by the fact that I can’t keep my house the way that I want it.  In fact, this flaw deterred me from having but a few play dates in our home in my oldest son’s first four years of life.  I mean, what would people think of me if they knew I kept a less than perfect house?  I felt bad because as every parent knows, you reap what you sow when it comes to play dates and my son was not invited to lots of play dates since I rarely had other children over here…and when I did it was only after several hours of tidying up.

This all went on until last year when I was talking with a teacher at my school.  She was just about to retire and as we cleaned the room we shared, she told me a story that her daughter (who is my age) had recently told her regarding her childhood.   She said, “Mom, you know how you used to be embarrassed that our house wasn’t perfect when I was a kid?  Well, there’s a funny thing about that.  All of my friends loved coming to our house because they didn’t have to worry about getting yelled at for leaving toys out.  As I got older my friends like to hang out at our place because it was comfortable and they didn’t feel like they were in a museum.  I know you hated it, Mom, but I loved it and so did my friends.”

I’m not quite sure why my friend told me this story or how it came up in the course of conversation.  Perhaps she sensed that I was a lot like her from the stacks and stacks of papers on my desk.  Maybe she just sensed that we were kindred spirits—fake perfectionists who want the world to see us how we wish we were.  Whatever made her tell me that story changed my outlook on play dates, kids, and other moms.  I have had a lot more play dates since that day and I’ve tried to not be so consumed with making the house perfect before the child crosses my threshold.  I learned that day that kids don’t really care if I have a stack of laundry on the sofa that needs to be folded…and quite frankly their moms probably don’t either.

Just Make Me Beautiful!

Dear Cosmetics and Hair Care Manufacturers,

Please stop lying to me. I'm sick of it. I'm specifically tired of the following fibs:

• "100% gray coverage"
  That's just crap and you know it. Oh, sure. If you have ONE gray hair, I'm sure it covers it just fine. Now I don't have a TON of gray, but I have enough to know they are there and enough to see that they aren't all covered after I dye my hair. And for the record, I did dyed my hair exactly how I was supposed to.
• "eliminate dark circle"
  More poppy cock. Really? Does that mean you get up with the baby at night to, Mr. Eye Cream. You are a liar.
• "All-day coverage"
  I don't know about you, but my makeup doesn't look fabulous at the end of the day.
• Plumps lips
  Uhhh...unless the tube of lipstick comes with a guy in a white coat and a needle full of something expensive, I doubt it. 
• Longer, fuller lashes
  Maybe I'm crazy, but I've never really been able to notice the difference between most mascaras.

Although I love getting my hopes up that cosmetics will make me look like what I'm not (or what I used to be), I think I might appreciate a little more honesty--like "covers most grays" or "will stay on your face for most of the day unless it's the middle of the summer then forget it"...you get where I'm going.

Sincerely,
Me :)

Safety 1st Aerolite LX Deluxe Stroller Review and Giveaway

For those of you who don't follow my other blog, Babes in Disneyland, I am giving away a fabulous stroller by Safety 1st that retails for $150.  I am so in love with this stroller.  It's easy to push, handles curbs like a dream and has a very innovative sunshade.  Plus, it is soooo easy to clean.  Baby C had a "blow out" and it cleaned up very, very easily without a trace.

Stop by today to win.  You must enter before midnight, September 6.  There's lots of ways to get entries.  Just following this blog is one of 'em!  Click here to go to the giveaway!

From Never Land to Kindergarten

Last week my oldest son started kindergarten.  As a teacher, I have been through the first day of school lots of times, but experiencing the beginning of the school year with my own child has been surreal.  My beautiful baby is now in school.  I can barely wrap my brain around that fact.  It seems like just last month he was learning to walk in our front yard and last Monday I walked him to school.

The morning was filled with nervous anticipation.  All five of us made the two block quest to our local elementary school.  We were like a parade led by my excited little boy.  He sang "You Can Fly" from Peter Pan the entire way to school.  It was precious and tore at my heart at the same time.  How ironic that my son was singing the song that contained the very instructions Wendy, Michael, and John needed to go to a place where they would never have to grow up as he was about to mark a very defining milestone of maturity in his life.  As we walked, I gripped his hand tighter and tighter, wishing and hoping to stop time.  I wanted to fly away with him to a place where he wouldn't grow up and would be my baby forever and ever.

Alas, we arrived at the school.  No magic pixie dusk ever took us away.  Instead, he joined the other 30 children in his class for one last good bye to Mommy and Daddy and a first hello to his new big boy world.  I hid my tears behind my big, dark sunglasses and then looked down at my other two boys wondering how I could get pixie dust in time to go to Never Land with them before they started kindergarten.

Until then, I'm searching for Tinker Bell.  If you find her, please tell her to stop by my house.

Me and The Bulls Eye Boutique

Dear Target,

I have a hate/love relationship with you.  Yes, hate/love and not love/hate.  I hate that I love you.  I hate that you cast a magical spell over me every time I pull into your parking lot and walk through your automatic doors.

Why is it that you will not allow me to walk out to my car without spending at least $100?  I may be running in for a loaf of bread or can of infant formula, but I am sure to walk out with much, much more every single time.  You continuously mock me having the clothing section right by the checkout.  You know that I cannot resist another tank top for $9 because you can never have enough tanks.  And those $1 bins are like crack to my kids and me.  Shame on you for supplying such a powerful drug.

I would also like to take issue with your clearance sections.  Those red clearance signs with their bright white letters call to me like sirens who crash ships.  Those signs taunt me with their bargains on misfit items that I would never look at if they weren't donning red clearance stickers showing the item is now 30% off.  Five minutes ago I didn't need a new welcome mat, waffle iron, or napkin holder, but now...because they are on clearance...they are headed for my cart.

And let's talk about the fact that you now have a huge grocery section.  I don't need to go anywhere else!  I can get my eye glasses, prescription medicines, groceries, clothes, diapers, sheets, and gardening supplies all in one store.  If you just sold gas and had a doctor's office, I don't think I would ever have to leave.

Oh, Target.  How I hate that I love you!

Love/Hate,
Me

Three Stikes and You're Out, Sears!

There are certain stores and restaurants in town that we just refuse to patronize and it is always due to poor service or quality.  Once we make this decision, they are "on the list."  My friends know that we take "the list" pretty seriously.  If we are out with friends or family and they suggest one of the places on "the list" we tell them that it is not an option and they can't have our money.

Once in a while, we forget why a business is on "the list" and make the mistake of going back.  This is one such story.  I hadn't been to Sears in about four years, in spite of there being one about about two miles from our house.  There's been times I've wanted to go there for things like a filter for for the water in the fridge or a tool for a job my husband's working on around the house, but I always keep on driving to the next closest "unlisted" business.

Right after Baby C was born we got a card in the mail for a big package of pictures for only $4.99 at the Sears portrait studio.  What a deal, right?  Given the fact that I hadn't had the time to take him to JCPenney to get his pictures done (I love JCPenney portraits!), one afternoon when my parents took the other boys to their house we decided to run over there real fast and get pictures done at Sears.  Now, one of the reasons we had put Sears on the list was because of their poor picture quality when my oldest son was a baby.  I had hoped that by now the quality had improved.

When we arrived at Sears, the store was just as "ghetto" and old school Montgomery Ward style as I remembered.  I tried to give the portrait studio the benefit of the doubt, as they were in the midst of remodeling.  The session went fine--as well as can be expected with a baby.  The photographer was patient and nice, but oddly sucked on a lollipop the entire time.  I was told to pick up my pictures on July 3.  The date stuck in my head because I had to pick something else up at the mall the same day.

Well, life happened and I didn't make it to Sears on July 3, but I did truck all three kids into Sears on the July 6.  We parked on the second floor, rode the elevator up to the third floor and waited...and waited for the employee to find our pictures.  After a trip to the bathroom with the kids, I returned to the desk to find out that I had been given the wrong date and they wouldn't be in until July 9.  I was fuming.  Anyone with three kids under 6 knows that getting all of them out of the car and through a department store without a fruitful end is very, very frustrating.  Strike one, Sears.

I received a call from Sears on July 8 to let me know my pictures were in.  I received another call yesterday, July 14 reminding me they were in and wanting to know what day and time I would be there.  I told her I didn't know and I would be there when I could.  I drove over there in the afternoon and parked on the third floor so that I could not have to deal with the elevator once inside the store.  I got everyone out of the car and the baby in the stroller only to find that the good folks at Sears had decided to no longer use their entrance on the third floor.  The bridge from the parking structure to the doors was still intact, as were the doors...only their handles had been taken off and they had put paper on the windows.  What?  Are you kidding me?  I had to walk through the structure to a mall entrance and then walk through the mall and through Sears to get to the portrait studio.  Strike two, Sears.

After collecting my pictures, which were very cute, I decided to head downstairs to the appliance section, as our second refrigerator seems to be on its last leg.  I looked at the refrigerators as my two older boys ran around like monkeys trying to open every fridge in the store.  There was no missing us.  I searched and waited for a sales person for 15 minutes before finding someone in the electronics department who in turn went into the back and found someone who was not on the sales floor to come help me...one of only two customers in the appliance department.  Now I know I haven't been to Sears in a long time, but one of the last times I did go there was when I was shopping for appliances for our kitchen and I know for a fact that every time I went there, I could barely walk by the department without being asked if I needed help.

When a salesperson finally did come out, he barely gave the the time of day.  He could barely tell me about the rebates, as he was distracted by his cell phone the entire time.  In the end my "Blue Crew Appliance Specialist" (ha, ha!) told me that I needed to look into the rebates myself and when I asked him about credit offers, he checked his cell phone AGAIN!  I told him that I was sorry to interrupt his cell phone time and that I would be on his way.  He told me that he just kept checking the time because he had to go to lunch.  Oh, that's sooo much better...NOT.  I walked away in disgust and told him his customer service skills were CRAP.  I've never said anything quite so ugly to ANYONE, but then again, I have never had a salesperson quite like this guy.

On my way back to the elevator, I asked the cashier in the tool department for the store manager's name and number.  She quickly got the manager on the phone.  I relayed what had just happened.  She gave me a very half-hearted apology with the caveat that they were short-handed.  That was it.  Strike three, Sears.  You're OUT and you are on "the list."

Sears sucks.  Period.  I said it.  I haven't always hated Sears.  We actually registered there when we got married so we could get things like tools, etc.  This time, however, I have learned my lesson.  I will not go back to Sears.  Not in four years, not ever.  In the next week or so,  I plan on going to the Home Depot to buy the GE refrigerator I was set on buying yesterday.

Punctuation Plunder

Does anyone else find this sign ironic?  The "Writers Store" apparently sells everything writers need...except for apostrophes.  Perhaps the "Writers Store" doesn't believe in plural possessive nouns.  Any way you slice it, I just can't trust a company that boasts itself as a "premiere source for writing" but doesn't have a basic command of punctuation.

I am by no means a perfect writer, but if you are running a store for writers, you probably should be pretty well versed in the ways of the apostrophe.

I Laid Down the Gauntlet

Tonight, I laid down the gauntlet with my boys. Most nights I am a short-order cook whipping up customized meals in order to stave off whines and complaints. Tonight, I made a dinner that both of the boys said that they wanted. After taking eating about half of his dinner, A refused to eat anymore and B poured half of his cup of milk into his dinner. This meal was the meal that pushed me over the edge; I had had just about enough. They began asking for just about anything else than the food I had cooked--oatmeal, cheese, hot dogs, you name it. Usually, I would just give in, but not tonight. Nope. No more giving in and no more Mrs. Nice Mommy. From now on, you eat what I cook and that's it.

Tomorrow night is meatloaf night. My meatloaf isn't bad. If the boys don't eat their dinner and want something else, that's just tough. I will wrap it up and they can have the leftovers the next night. My cooking isn't amazing but it's not gross. I don't want to raise picky eaters and I can prepare three or more dinners every night. I've taken a stand!

This Time of Year

Yesterday was the last day of school for our school district and there's something about this time of year that makes me so emotional. Today I committed the act I try to avoid at all costs: driving by our local high school when it is lunch time or when school has just gotten out. Today I drove by as school got out. Ugh! It takes at least five minutes to go from one end of the school to the other when this unfortunate navigational misfortune takes place. My blood typically boils when the kids refuse to let the cars pass and take forever to walk in the crosswalks, but today was a bit different.

As my SUV slowly crawled down the street, I was instantly transported back to my years at Pacifica High School and my own personal feelings that came with the end of the year. I loved seeing the yearbooks my friends and I had worked so hard designing in our fellow students' hands. I loved the idea of three months of freedom. I adored that excitement of feeling full of possibilities and the fresh slate of the following school year.

And within that five minute crawl past the high school, my eyes fell upon a group of boys talking. I imagined they were making plans for the summer. Swimming at one boy's pool perhaps? Summer jobs? Maybe a road trip or what movies they wanted to see together. Then I imagined these boys being MY boys and my eyes welled with tears. They will go to this high school one day. In the not-so-distant future, they will be sharing last-day-of-school pats on the back with a yearbook under one arm. One day, my boys will be like these boys making excited plans for the future, cracking jokes, and goofing around. They'll be tall and gangly, but have fabulous skin, of course. I tried to pick out which kids my kids will look like and who will make up their group of friends. Will they hang out with the kids on the steps, the kids under the tree, or that big group on the corner. I then slipped into a fairy tale in which my boys want my husband and me to play an active roll in their clubs or teams--a time when I'll wear Burroughs High School red to their games and maybe wear their letterman jacket as I sit in the stands...if they haven't already loaned it to some (stupid) girl.

All of this happened in the span of five minutes. When I pressed the brake pedal at the final stop sign at the corner of the school, I glanced into my back seat and saw three beautiful little boys all in some sort of car seat or booster. Their cheeks are still chubby with baby fat and they all have some sort of shmutz on their faces--even the littlest one had a little dried milk on his chin. As I placed my foot on the accelerator I was instantly thankful for the precious days I have with my little boys and I vowed to treasure the present and look forward to the future.

A Little L.A., A Little OC

I grew up in the O.C. I was a beach girl--the daughter of a surfer. I was a baton twirler who spent her high school Memorial Day weekends in the Garden Grove Strawberry Festival Parades. I cruised Balboa with my friend Tracey listening to Color Me Bad and sneaked my way in to Knott's Berry Farm more times than I can count. (I knew every trick in the book.) I was O.C. through and through. So when I got married back in 2000 and agreed to move to Studio City (L.A.) with my husband who is in the entertainment industry, I was truly a fish out of water.

Giving up my life in Orange County (and Long Beach) was not easy. I gave up my hair place, doctors, the florist (yes I had a florist!), malls and stores, restaurants, family, and friends. The big city feel of L.A. scared the crap out of me. I'm not going to lie, people drive CRAZY here! I felt like everyone looked different than me and I certainly didn't feel cool enough to fit in with the people I did meet. I saw a celebrity almost every time I went to the grocery store...and I'm not talking about B listers either. It was tough to start a marriage in a land I didn't know. I was starting over. No friends, family, or familiar haunts. We hadn't lived together prior to being married. In fact, we had only ever spent time together on the weekends, so needless to say, it was not an easy adjustment all the way around.

When I lived in Orange County, I believe that the world revolved around those of us behind the Orange Curtain. Now that I'm here, I've gotten a much bigger picture and better appreciation for the fabric of California as a whole. This September, my husband and I will have been married 10 years and during that decade something pretty awesome has happened. I've started to become more adjusted to life in L.A. I used to drive with white knuckles through the streets of Hollywood during my occasional trips "over the hill" and now zip through Hollywood's crowded streets without a second thought. I like that every house is old and they all have a story. I have grown to love that I live in an "industry town" in which the moms at the park understand what it's like to have a husband who has to leave on a shoot for days, weeks, or even months at a time. I love that I live where I can walk to a bakery, restaurant, antique stores, the hardware store, and world famous studios all within minutes.

Now, almost ten years after living here, I am now at a crossroads in which I've discovered that I'm not an O.C. or L.A. gal. I read the L.A. blogs and most of the time I don't feel like I connect with them. In fact, I still feel a bit like an outsider when I talk with a lot of other women here in La-La land. And while I try to keep up with what's going on in Orange County, I know longer fit there. I'm used to driving like a maniac, trendy shops every few blocks, and the diversity I just don't recall from my days in the north O.C. Not feeling like I truly fit in in my past or my present is a strange sensation. I carry a lot of what I grew up with in West Garden Grove but have grown to love and value where I am raising my children. I guess I'm a Californian stuck between my past and my present hoping to instill in my boys the best of both.

Getting Back On Track

It's been five and a half weeks since Baby C joined our family. We've gotten through the toughest of the newborn days but still have rough patches here and there. C's smile is amazing and melts my heart every single time. My other boys adore him too and are always happy and willing to give him a bottle when I'm too busy to sit down and nurse him.

I had a minor setback the other day, personally. Someone I am close to made a crack about me still carrying my baby weight. I was crushed. As I've mentioned before, weight is a really big deal to me. I had thought that I had done a pretty good job up until that point of camoflaging my ample thighs and belly, but apparently it wasn't good enough. Now before you go and say nasty things about the person who made the comment, let's just say that they "didn't know any better" and leave it at that. I have to turn the other cheek and just move on from the comment. Move on and do something about it, that is.

I started eating better and I've already seen another pound shed off by controlling my desire for after-dinner desserts. I've cut out "naughty" breakfasts and replaced them with a (measured) bowl of Special K, a banana, and strawberries each morning. (I'm allowing one splurge breakfast per week.) I'm really controlling my portions and allowing myself healthy snacks when I need them. But on top of it all, as if from heaven, one of my girlfriends emailed me today and asked if I would like to run the Disneyland 5K in September.

It's on! I'm doing it! I haven't been on my treadmill since the first trimester of my pregnancy and I've NEVER ran a 5K or to the corner of my street for that matter. I'm going to take it slow, but this 5K is the perfect motivator to get my booty moving again. I have a big press event June 10 and hopefully I'll seena bit more trim me in the mirror by then. I know that I can do this! And when all is said and done, I eventually want to lose 20 pounds, I know I need to take it one day and pound at a time.

Time To Be Social

Grab the link-up button and post "It's a Social Parade Wednesday Link-up."  Every Wednesday a new linky will be posted with that weeks exchange info.  This week is Google Friend Connect Round Up!! Here's a link to the details http://www.smartandtrendymoms.com/2010/05/link-up-and-get-new-blog-readers-its.html

To participate, follow the blog in the first spot or all of them.  All blogs participating must post about Social Parade and link to that post. Have fun and be social!

Reporting From the Trenches of Motherhood

I haven't posted here in a while because I've been sent out on assignment down into the trenches of motherhood. On April 6, my husband and I welcomed beautiful baby C into our family and life has been nonstop ever since. Baby C weighed in at 6 lbs, 5 oz and 20 inches long. I had a labor that I will perhaps blog about once I have had a chance to get over the fact that the jerks at Kaiser made my labor way more traumatic than it needed to be due to their arrogance and lack of compassion.

Anyway, we are back in the land of sleepless nights and exhausted days. It's funny how motherhood has a way of producing some sort of Jedi mind trick allowing you to forget how tiring it is to be up with a newborn all night and how fun it is to feel like the baby is going to suck your boobs right off your body. You forget the joy of yellow poop projecting across the changing table and the fact that your waist is still but a distant memory even four weeks after delivery.

Baby C is fabulous. He's is a cute as a button and growing fast. My other two boys love him to pieces and the dog has yet to give him a second look. (Of course, that could very well be because the dog is desperately in need of being groomed and can probably barely see the baby through his long "bangs.") He seems to have a pretty calm temperament and doesn't mind the noise the other boys make while running through the house playing.

I have to say that by and large, baby number three is pretty darn easy. As a mother, I feel like I have lots of tricks up my sleeve. (And believe me when I tell you I'm wearing sleeves. My post-pregnancy arms are not a sight to behold.) I'm also so much more calm than with my last two. I know that the difficulties and sleepless nights will pass. I know what I have to look forward to. Every moment is so very fleeting. Today, for example, I swear that my four-week-old bundle of love smiled at me for the first time. (Yes, he is a genius. I just filled out his MENSA application.) It was magic. It made me forget the fact that I have not slept since 4:30 and the fact that my boobs feel like I imagine my dog's chew toys feel. Baby C is just so precious, I can barely stand it.

So anyway, I'm back and sorry it took so long to get here. I'll be reporting the good, the bad, the ugly, and the wonderful of my journey. I'm also hoping to start doing a few giveaways here, instead of over on my Disney blog, Babes in Disneyland. If you aren't already, please follow this blog through google and "like" me via Facebook so that I can have more visible fans here.