Sunday, 26 October 2014

Mummy's Magic "Rich"ter

There was excitement as The Husband and I whispered to each other, Tara giving us suspicious looks from the next room.

The Husband declared a few days ago that he wanted to go to Disneyworld again this year, as Tara was growing up fast and would soon not "feel the magic".

Now last year, I felt no magic whatsoever. Tara started losing her wobbly teeth as soon the trip began. She was also sick (travel sickness) as she could possibly be in the car, plane and the car to our hotel in Orlando. I had to sit in the back seat holding sick bags for the remainder of the trip, inviting strange glances from people as The Husband drove the car nervously on the opposite side of the road,  and us ladies sat at the back. I didn't mind. No one was going to pay for the clean up of the rented car if our Princess vomited all over the back seat. We decided to rest by the pool on day one. Within minutes Tara managed to cut the underside of her foot, the worst possible place to get hurt especially when you have to walk miles to get anywhere around the Disney parks.

We did the best we could in the end. Ive struggled to get rid of the balance on the credit card on that trip a few weeks ago. I had saved for last year's holiday for over 6 years, to make it special, no expenses spared-ish. Ive barely taken a breath from that, and now The Husband wants to go back in a few months. Reluctantly I came around to the idea and agreed that Tara will be grown up soon enough -we may as well do it now.

I got to work looking for the best deals trying to get the best possible hotel and flights etc. We couldn't match the previous trip money-wise, and anything I found was not met with enthusiasm by The Husband. He wants it all at less than half the price.

If only life was that simple. But I can't conjure up holidays like the fairies can! Im just about keeping it together in the shouting department, exploding only 3 times in 13 days! And that's not bad given my past performance. Tara has been complaining of stomach pain measuring 6.2 on the Richter scale (pronouncing it "rich" + "ter" ). I have no clue why the Richter scale got connected to her stomach pain, but I will admit to understanding her level of pain better because of it. "It's gone to a 3 on the rich-ter Mummy. Do you think I could have some cake now Mummy?"

I am Tara's Mighty Mum. I still can't magic up a "Rich"-ter of my own and arrange a five star, resort with top class flights, and the rest of it...I can't :-( ...No I really can't. Now where's that cake Tara couldn't have today.

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