D is for Disney

I deactivated my Facebook account this week so I could spend more time on here writing and more time out there living. That was Monday. This is Thursday. Nope, not true as it is 12:34AM, which means it is Friday. I haven't written anything in days (though, looking at the archive tool bar on the right, I'm only 4 entries away from beating my total number of entries last year-- hoorah). Oh, I've written plenty in my head, planned the intros to numerous blogs buuuut I never actually sat down. And, now, I don't remember what I want to talk about in this one.

Ok, so the same night I deactivated my Facebook, I received a phone call asking me to drive my friend (let's call him Dylan) to Disney World for an cruise line audition. Disney is technically a four-hour drive away. As I've stated on a couple of other blogs, I'm tired; I've been looking forward to this do-nothing week of vacation for weeks (I don't have to remind you how hard and mentally/emotionally taxing this year has been so far). I needed the time for bonding with my youngest child (my oldest skipped out at first opportunity), for putting my apartment back to right so it could stop looking like a cyclone ran through each room, and for me time-- maybe a little book reading or catching up on dvr'd shows and, definitely, a lot of sleep. So I declined to make that trip. And I felt good declining.

Tuesday, had a little bonding time, got a couple of rooms semi-cleaned, watched a show, then I started crying again, thinking about everything and missing dude. Then the phone rang. It was that friend again. He could not find another ride and would I please, please do it-- he'll pay for gas and toll and entrance tickets for me and my son. Please, please, pretty please. Ugh. I wanted to be a friend but I, also, wanted my vacation. On the other hand, I needed to get out of the house. Being alone only reinforced that I was alone and crying myself to sleep every night wasn't my ideal vacation.  So I agreed. My son had cleaned his room and the living room so it would be a treat to him.

That night, I only got three hours of sleep before hitting the road so I wasn't in the best of moods. In fact, I made everyone stay silent until I mentally woke up about three hours later (I don't drink coffee). My friend auditioned, got back mixed news, and we were off to enjoy the magical world of Disney.




The annoying excitement of my friend and my child was infectious and my sour mood lifted once I quenched my thirst (I was sweating so much like a stuck pig, I think I was dehydrating) and got on the first ride. I even took pictures, which is something I don't do. But, I guess a new haircut, a cute shirt, and sheer determination to have a good time does something to the brain.

And, maybe, it was the cleavage, but this homegirl got a lot of male attention yesterday. Talk about ego booster. I even felt my sexy returning as I walked, that is, until I started limping. Maybe overdid it a bit with the whole walk a theme park a few times thing. I'm just starting to get back into fitness after letting my foot heal (hope I didn't set it back; I put some Aspercreme on it just in case).

I, also, saw a lot of couples of all ages/races/ethnicities/heights/girths/etc so there were a few times that I felt the familiar sting at the edge of my lower eye lids. But my tears didn't put a damper on the day. My kid had a blast; he was my kid again-- not some smart-mouthed troubled child. He was just so happy. And I wouldn't have traded that day we had for anything, except to have gone back in time so that there were more of those kinds of memories instead of the kind that have me crying even now just thinking about them.

I'm glad I said yes to the trip. I'm glad I got out of the house. I glad I got to spend a day with my youngest in his favorite place on Earth with most of the expenses paid. I got to be just mommy, not the disciplinarian. And that felt pretty damn good.

QoMV