my feet still aren't speaking to me.

Well, we're home.

We had fun.

We sweated. Lots.

We walked until my feet and legs claimed they were dying. And then sent me an impolite memo informing me that if they could, they would leave me sitting by the road footless and legless, but as they were so firmly attached as to render that impossible, they were suspending all further amiable communication for an undetermined length of time.

We rode awesome rides that made me scream like a sick banshee.

We fell in love with our hotel.



We stood in looong lines. Lots.

We saw breathtaking fireworks. And yes, I wished on a shooting star.

Isaiah ate.


And ate...


and ate some more.


Phoebe got her face painted, and since if Phoebe jumped off a cliff, Isaiah would be about two feet behind her, yelling "DO! DO!", he was also magically transformed with the help of some brushes and paint.


We rode the spinning teacups, which will make you sincerely wish you hadn't had that third waffle at breakfast.


We met Mary Poppins, who is one of my very favorite movie characters. Anna sang her songs to me when I was a wee creature, and in my Very Humble opinion, she sang them quite as well as Julie Andrews.


And here we are, in all our glory - stroller, backpack, sunglasses, and battery operated fans, (which squirted water and were consequently the delight of Phoebe and Isaiah's souls.)



p.s. I meant to post pictures of my previous trips to Disney World, some as far back as the days when I wore hats and dresses that matched, but all those trips were taken in the obsolete days when people only had film cameras, so I don't have them easily accessible on the computer. Oh well.

p.p.s. What is more disturbing and unattractive than old men in speedos? Uh, ummm, hmmmm... nope, I can't think of anything.

p.p.p.s. (Is that even how you do a third p.s.?) I ate sushi. Like, the raw kind. Not that mamby-pamby cooked stuff or the vegetable imitation. And yes, I did it just to be able to say I ate raw sushi.