Drinking with the devil

Welcome to the Baby Feeding & Change Area... sponsored by Nestle Good Start. Huh? I guess I live in a relatively sheltered bubble where most people know (if not adhere to) the Nestle boycott and are marginally aware of the issues involved (even if they don't care about them that much).

But, man, does it ever give you a sense of the insanity of the commercial machine when you have a chance to see the world from the other side. Nestle and baby care are at complete odds - not just in the developing world, but here at home too. There's nothing wholesome about their products or the way they make them - but in so many places, they're the only voice.

I had an adorable interaction with a cashier at the Magic Kingdom - when she handed me the chocolate milk, it was Nesquik. Seeing my face fall (I had promised chocolate milk to restless kiddos outside in exchange for sitting in the stroller for 5 more minutes), she asked if anything was wrong. I said, "Well, I prefer not to buy Nestle products." Long pause. "Because there's a global boycott of Nestle, you see." Longer pause, then she answered, "Oh really? I never heard of that - why?" "Well, because their marketing practices especially of infant formula are in conflict with international rules and that harms babies." Longer pause. "Oh, uh, ok. The TG good milk is better anyway." With a smile. Gotta love the optimism.

Disney Pooplosions

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.

Happiest place on earth...

Almost 5 years ago to the day, Dan and I left Disney World vowing never to return. The trip had been too much for us: too much junk food, too many jingles, too much happiness, too much... well, everything. Today, I also booked yet another 10-day Disney trip. We didn't start down this path when we started thinking about getting away with the kids in the winter.
We toyed with the idea of doing a winter trip - I much prefer a snowy afternoon spent by the fire to an afternoon in the blazing sun on the beach. I could trade guacamole for hot chocolate. Between pregnancy and breastfeeding infants, haven't been able to get much skiing done in the past 5 years - I don't really know if any of my gear still fits (though good sense would say no). Neither kidlet skies yet and we learned when Isabelle was 2 that having a nanny tag along is bad news (I threatened to take the train home by the time we arrived in Montreal, I believe). So, it wouldn't be much of a family vacation. To say nothing of the fact that half the reason I hate winter is the bundling and unbundling of children - for the uninitiated, it's similar to the effort require to dress two very large and ill-tempered cats in the same get-up, only the cats have the dexterity to undress while you are dressing the other. I have considered putting on the snowsuits backwards, but it would only buy me a little time.
Our family trips have thus far been to all-inclusive resorts in the south - Mexico mostly, though we gave st. Lucia a whirl last time. While these are fun and Isabelle is finally able to go to the kids' clubs, it's pretty exhausting. Again, since neither kidlet is safe in the water alone, there's a lot of hands-on play time. Not that it's not fun, but the "wheeee" appeal of the slide wears off a lot faster on grown-ups than kids... like a 100 times faster. And I have a weird fear of the kids getting sucked out to sea, so the sand/surf part is primarily anxiety-inducing in me. (Every parent has their thing, don't judge me).
I also kicked around doing something more exotic - maybe a cool eco-lodge in the Ecuadorian jungle or a beach resort on an atoll an hour off the Belizean coast. Dan nixed both ideas - anything that put a float plane or jet boat between us and a basic emergency clinic was a little adventurous to be sure. Especially, since on our last Mexican vacation, I was the one who hauled us up to the in-house doctor for a bug bite. "What kind of bug?", I asked. "Snr. Branco, this is Mexico, there are a lot of bugs but I do not know all their names," was the doctor's patient reply.
So, the criteria was somewhere warm (no snowsuits), somewhere fun for the kids, somewhere with enough variety of activity that we wouldn't get bored of their fun and somewhere reassuring professionals could be found in a moment of need. And oddly enough, Orlando seemed to fit the bill.
For a while, we pretended it wasn't a Disney trip, it was an Orlando trip - Disney would not be the focus, we'd just drop in. We chose a condo off-site, rented a car - Disney would be an activity on the trip... just one day, maybe two. Well, you know how this goes... you can't cover the whole Magic Kingdom or Epcot in a single day with two small kids. And, oh look at that, the Magic Passes (get used to the lingo or perish), cost the same for 3 days as 7 days. Isabelle, who has seen only one Disney movie in her whole life, was immediately dialled in - expecting to see Minnie Mouse and Cinderella right away. Would we see Belle and Ariel? Oh, and go to the Castle? See the fireworks? How did she learn about all this??
No matter, next thing I know I'm on hold with the Disney Reservation Centre making all our 'ADRs' (reservations) and hoping against hope that I can squeeze us in (more than two months in advance and it was dicey). Sheer insanity.
Let the Magic begin.