The Weekly Peanut, Issue 90
Daddy's been doing a lot of late work events this week, which means Mommy-Daphne quality time. We do love Stefano's and their tasty chicken tenders (which I have to cut into nuggets or D won't eat them, YAY TODDLERS!).
D's a big fan of picking the flowers in our front yard on the way to the car. Sometimes I get them, sometimes she keeps them. Thursday, Mike Wazowski Pumpkin got a flower.
I've discovered the glory of Ebay for feeding Daphne's/My princess costume obsession. On a budget. Yesssss.
Our Halloween plans were not... planned... really. Last year we made the trek back to College Park, which is absolutely a great neighborhood for trick or treating, but it's also a serious trek. A coworker who lives a couple of subdivisions away mentioned her neighborhood was pretty good (compared to ours which is DEAD). Sold. We started at Robin's house. D was quite taken with one of her dogs, but no so taken as to miss the opportunity to strike her trademark pirate pose.
D was definitely INTO trick-or-treating compared to last year.
It took her a couple of houses but she got the hang of the schtick: ring the bell, say "trickohtweeeet," get candy, say "thankoooo", lather rinse repeat.
I didn't anticipate it being as fun as it was. She was just so darn FUNNY.
The sun set and D started asking to be carried so we called it a night. Home, bath, bed. Almost no trick-or-treaters at our house (by the time 9pm rolled around, we were dumping buckets of candy into any treat bags we could find).
Ian's weekend was not his own as he was hosting a bachelor party over on the coast. More Mommy-Daphne time? Don't mind if I do. Ian told me the high was 80, so I dressed for that. When we got to the parks it felt like 50. Uhhmmm... Brrrrrr. Fortunately I had some spare layers for D. Me? Not so much. It's ok, jogging behind a stroller across Hollywood Studios' parking lot will warm the blood just fine. We got to the park right after open and got a totally SCHWEEEET parking spot. I figured we'd kill a little time meeting characters or shopping before our first FastPass (Disney Jr show). BTW, the cooler weather meant I finally felt it was appropriate for D to take her Elsa costume to the parks (it has sleeves, not very warm-weather friendly). Headed to the Animation courtyard, D got one look at Jake and it was all over. JAKE PIRATE JAKE PIRATE! Ok, we'll visit your boyfriend...
Apparently Dug isn't the only character to start working Elsa's schtick into his act. Note D's incredibly sloppy side-winding Elsa braid. My toddler hair-styling skills are OFF. THE. CHARTS.
As we left Jake D started urgently pointing toward the Disney Junior show. They'd just shut the doors for the first show, but we had passes for the next one. "Sorry D, we just missed this show, but we can just kill a few minutes and come back and see the next one!" Oh no. Cue the drama. D was NOT pleased. This would set the tone for the rest of the week: drama-llama. Boo. I gently dragged/coaxed D back into the character meeting section behind the courtyard, hoping to distract her and kill the time. Sure enough, Minnie was out and ready to meet guests. D had other ideas.
The stairs. Dear god these stairs. She would have gone up and down these stairs all day if I'd let her. Eventually she started getting sassy: refusing to hold the hand rail, desperately trying to break her head open, so I snatched her up and introduced her to one of the coloring computers. That worked. She colored Flounder neon red OVER AND OVER. Smash smash smash the buttons.
At last it was time for the Disney Junior show. I still (desperately) wish they had chairs: my poor cramped legs. D still loves the show even though she refuses to participate like the other kids (just intense staring).
After yet another successful (obsessive) watching of Monsters University, I thought we'd give Mike & Sulley meeting another shot. No dice. She got one look at them and wan't having it. What the deuce, kid? So we went into Wandering Oaken's Trading Post and D got to play in her first snow. Mostly she grabbed a couple of handfuls and gave them to me, fell on her tush a couple of times, called it a day.
Snuck over to Toy Story Mania with a FastPass. D got her own seat this time and made a concerted effort to participate in the game. She didn't hit anything, but she tried and cried "WEEEEE" every time the cart spun. Grabbed lunch. Breaking news: D loves applesauce.
After a diaper and outfit change, we were finally ready to do what D had been asking to do since the night before: Frozen sing-along. Where you get to sit in the auditorium is pretty much all luck. This time we got lucky. FRONT. ROW. BISHES. YASSSSSSS.
We shared our row with a single father and his 6 year old visiting from Australia. She was adorable, and totally fascinated by the fact that we lived nearby and could go to Disney every weekend. "Buht... Hawh cahn you do that?" "Well, my job is here. I teach at a school in town." "Daddyh, why can't you work nearby?" LOL.
D was so temperamental we decided to call it a day (and get home in time to wish Daddy luck at his party).
Sunday morning was Mommy-Daphne brunch at Briar Patch. We couldn't do Cask, because the TIME CHANGE IS NOT UNDERSTOOD BY TODDLERS so we were out the door and trying to kill time at... *sigh* 7 am.
We went shopping at Target. D picked out some treats from the dollar bins. Love those dollar bins.
Daddy came home and we finally got our Cask & Larder meal. Note D sporting her new Frozen crocs, she's pretty obsessed.
Getting D to eat... almost anything is an ongoing battle. Monday I had a relative success: I cooked one of skinnytaste's recipes for kid-friendly chili. D's had it before and liked it. I made her a little bowl and brought it to her. "Noooo! No cheeeeleeeeee!" Alright kid, here's the deal: You don't have to eat the chili. Until you do, you're stuck watching what I want to watch on TV. You also won't get anything else to eat unless you eat the chili first. She gave me a glare. NO. CHILI. NO. GABBA. More squinting. Finally she relented and managed to wipe out the bowl of chili pretty quickly. Want more? NO. Ok, I respect that. Gabba time for peanut.