So I'm sure you've all been on pins and needles waiting for the Disney report. And I am pleased to say it was an excellent trip - despite both of us being a little apprehensive about the Disney-ness of Disney.
Isabelle adored, simply adored, being called "Princess" - all the more common after she obtained all the necessary princess get-up. What, me, buy a Disney costume? Well, there's a little more to it. The first day we spent at Epcot ("why do they call it an apricot?" "No, Isabelle, it's Epcot." "Oh, ok, apple-cot. Why do they call the ball an apple-cot". This conversation continued through the remainder of the trip.)
I don't know if it was the "Cokes" of the world exhibit: despite my addicition to pop, Isabelle has largely been sheltered from it. Yet, I somehow thought it was a good idea to fill her chockful of high-fructose corn syrup from around the globe. Suffice it to say, I would not recommend intorducing your child to pop while she is wearing white pants. Especially when the evening that follows is dinner with the princesses... and you have no change of clothes.
I can't recall another time that I have been more paralyzed with absolutely no idea what to do. It was clear as soon as we coaxed her out from under the table that there had been a poop-plosion. A major one. Yet, we had no change and no sweaters to wrap around her. And she was far too poopy to pick up...
So, I followed her closely behind as she waddled out of the castle and Dan paid the bill. She couldn't sit, but she also couldn't stand - and it was very uncomfortable. I felt so badly for her. She felt so badly for her. "Mommy, help me!" And really honestly, the only thing I could say was the truth, "I am going to make it better, but I really really don't know what to do." Finally Dan came out and I unfroze. I went across the way, brought a $50 (!) Cinderella dress and whisked her into the ladies' room. (Well, to the extent that you can "whisk" a five year old with poop running down her leg while trying to provide back cover for her).
I can only imagine what people must have thought was going on in that stall - I am nauseous just to think of it. It definitely was the grossest bathroom moment in my personal history. But we got her cleaned up and into the princess dress - that went a long way to healing the humiliation. The poop outfit - brand-new pants and all went directly in the garbage.
Fun times. In addition to be an excellent reminder of what happens when little bodies are given crap to eat, it was also a humbling moment for me. Five years in and I by and large think I pretty well know what I'm doing with this parenting thing - but kids will know just how to cut you down to size.