After spending eight days in Disney World where the the temperature was a perfect 80 degrees, we came home to find out that hell actually did freeze over. You haven't lived until you've tried to leave your house in an ice storm and instead rolled backwards down your street while your children are in the backseat screaming that they don't want to die. It's. Awesome.
However, I will not let a measly ice storm cast a shadow over our perfect week in Florida. So perfect, in fact, that I actually ran into one of my best friends (and the glue of our small group) who moved to Virginia last year and I've been missing like crazy ever since:
Three peas in a pod:
Mia was one reason this trip was so awesome. This girl is in the zone in Disney World.
And this kid was finally tall enough to ride the coasters, which thrilled his Father way more than it thrilled him:
Going on a trip like this with ten people is no walk in the park, but as I've always said, "With enough coffee anything is possible."
Mia happened to be picked for every show, every parade, every possible opportunity to be in the spotlight, this girl was in it:
And Bode can still sleep anywhere, anytime, and in any position. "I prayed for this child and the Lord has granted me what I asked of him." (For real, after having Mia I prayed my next kid would like to sleep.)
These two little punks rode Tower of Terror about ten times.
After our 5th trip to Disney World my one piece of advice would be to hire my husband to plan your trip. The man is a Disney Nazi. And I mean that in a good way. His obsession with efficiency, navigation, timing, planning, and most bang for your buck is strangely awesome.
He's already planning our next trip. It's kind of a problem. A wonderfully exciting problem.
