I was not going to advertise on the blogosphere that I went to Disney World. But this trip is too memorable and fraught with heartache to keep to myself. Nick was not on this trip, but I thought that with some help from the other adults I was going with I could manage things just fine.
The first day at the Magic Kingdom was OK. Things are slow with little ones in tow, and half the group is constantly staying behind to watch kids while the rest go do something amusing. In the afternoon, I took Henry on the Speedway, where you drive cars on a track. He loved it and wanted to go again. I asked my dad to take him on it a second time while I took care of Gigi. After a little bit, I went to a scenic point to take a picture as they drove past, but I waited and waited and never saw them. A few minutes later we found each other. Henry had thrown up in line, splashing some on my dad's and others' shoes. They had waited with the mess to steer people around it until someone came with the sawdust and bucket to take care of it. Amazingly, my dad STILL TOOK HIM ON THE RIDE.
My dad was laughing about this as he told me, but I know that Henry isn't a casual barfer. When he throws up, he means that he is really sick. I gathered up our stuff and put Henry is the stroller to head back to hotel. Jo Ellen graciously volunteered to come back with me. As soon as he was seated in the brand new stroller, he proceeded to reenact the famous scene from the exorcist. The ensuing mess was so disgusting. He shirt and pants were just caked with food from two days before. As he was throwing up and screaming, he was scraping off his tongue like he does when he eats something too spicy. We again had to find the man with the sawdust and bucket. An innocent bystander also gave me some baby wipes- bless that woman. So now I was leaving the park with a boy stripped down to a diaper sitting in the back of the stroller, because the front of the stroller was all wet.
We boarded the shuttle bus after just a minute of waiting. Henry was crying and insisted on me holding him in the baby Bjorn, and since it's tough to argue with a naked two-year-old, I did. The ride from Magic Kingdom to the hotel should have been about 15 minutes. About 15 or 20 minutes after we boarded, we pulled into Animal Kingdom. That's a whole different theme park, which was not our destination. It also was closed two hours previously, so it was a ghost town. But I figure the driver knows what she is supposed to be doing, and sometimes shuttles do have intermediate stops. About this point we reach absolute meltdown. Henry throws up all over me, because for some reason he refuses to throw up in a bag, and since he's in the baby Bjorn, he's basically throwing up down my shirt. Gigi is screaming bloody murder as Jo Ellen holds her. I think the other passengers felt more pity towards us than annoyance at all the noise.
15 minutes after Animal Kingdom, I yelled up to the driver "How long until we're at [the hotel]?" I hear her say 5 more minutes and something about "got turned around," but I think she can't mean that she was disoriented, because she's the professional driver here. I figure the words must have made more sense if I had heard the whole sentence, which I couldn't, on account of my two screaming children. 10 minutes after that I asked again, and when she answered, I yelled back that I couldn't hear her over my two sick, screaming children. It was shortly after this, as we were approaching Epcot (a third theme park) that she pulled over at a gas station for directions.
It was when she announced this to the passengers that one came forward with a map and gave her verbal directions on how to get to the hotel. About 10 minutes later, we finally arrived at the hotel. I cannot describe the horror of the half hour of two screaming children whom you can do nothing to reassure while being lost on the shuttle bus from hell. It was much worse than it sounds. The ride was supposed to be about 15 minutes, and our meltdown didn't really start until 20 minutes in and continued for the rest of the 50 minute duration, so I felt this ride from hell was all this driver's fault. I have never wanted someone fired before, but I did as I got off that shuttle. The driver apologized and said it was her first day off training, "and come back next year and I'll be much better." I don't think she'll still have this job next year.
Once at the hotel, we worked on keeping Henry hydrated. He threw up periodically until about 4:00 AM. The next day Gigi was sick, and by afternoon we were concerned enough we came within an inch of taking her to the hospital. If I hadn't done a research project in nursing school on oral rehydration I would have taken her in sooner, but I felt that an IV wasn't needed yet, so we decided to continue to monitor her and she started to improve. It helped that I was able to consult Nick over the phone. The next day the other kids were sick. The day after that, half the adults were sick. The day after that, we went home, and the last kid to get sick threw up at his destination airport. The culprit was probably Norwalk virus.
Makes you jealous of the trip, right?
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