Here's to you, Walt.

I know you're all anxious to hear about the Disney Cruise, but to tell you the truth...it was relatively uneventful. There's really not much to tell.





I'm totally kidding.




It was probably the single most exhausting week of my entire life...beginning with the three hour drive to the boat, and ending with the three hour drive home.

Have you ever seen that Norman Rockwell painting, Coming and Going? It shows a family on their way to a vacation, bouncing with excitement...and coming back: dirty, exhausted, angry, annoyed. I wish I had taken pictures of our car each way to show the comparison...

Everything inbetween was basically what you would expect...

-Singing and dancing crew members...check.
-Disney characters arond every corner...check.
-Standing in line with Mia to meet the characters...check.
-Mia melting down when it is finally her turn and making Goofy cry...check.
-Really narrow, incredibly long hallways through which it is nearly impossible to navigate a stroller...check.
-Sharing a room with Mia...check.
-7 a.m. wake up call from Mickey Mouse...check.
-A three year old screaming, "Brooksie, is it Mickey Mouse?!" at 7 a.m....check.
-Norbert, our server from Hungary, who sounded a lot like Dracula...check.
-Mia throwing temper tantrums in the middle of the restaurant and Norbert being the only one who could calm her down...check.

It was a Disney cruise with a three year old and a nine month old. Lots of sun, a little rain, lots of poolside drinks.

I'd like to break for a moment and explain to you what we have been up to since returning from the cruise, and why my post is somewhat tardy.

We went on the cruise with Mia's grandparents, two of her cousins, and their nanny. (welcome to the blog, Laura Ann)

Mia's cousins have a little sister, Ann Hinckley, who is sick, so she and her parents were unable to come on the cruise with us. She has Aplastic Anemia, and since we have returned from the cruise we have been working on a Bone Marrow Drive in her honor. Ann Hinckley needs a bone marrow transplant, and she does not have a family match.

I would love it if you would all take a moment to visit Bethematch.org.
It's free and it only takes a few minutes. They will send a swabbing kit to you, and you just mail it back. After that you will be entered into a national registry for potential bone marrow matches...and you could be the one to save a life.

If I can't be a match for her, I hope that I will one day be able to be the match for somebody else...and I'll give my bone marrow happily, all the while thinking of Ann Hinckley.

So from Norbert and all the gang at Disney Cruise Lines (and me)...here's hoping that when you wish upon a star, as dreamers do, that all of your dreams come true.

...until the Disney Cruise.

So, Mia turned three this week.

Now, although my dream of the three year old transformation did not go off exactly as I'd planned...something did seem to shift this week.

As I watched my sweet little Moo greet her guests at her fancy tea party, help pass out cupcakes, play with her friends and the babydolls that they all brought, and finally thank each friend for coming to her party...an unexpected thing happened. I kept getting choked up.

Okay, I know what you're thinking, people who know me,

"...unexpected?"

For those of you who don't know me...I cry. I cry a lot. Sappy movies, not so sappy movies, the Olympics, the end of every book I ever read, Publix commercials, Maxwell House commercials, Hallmark commercials, my brother's movie blog...I cry. (It's endearing, no?)

But it was unexpected on this day, because it was a tea party with a bunch of screaming three year olds running around. It wasn't even on Mia's actual birthday...she was, in fact, still two.

But she seemed a little taller, her face looked a little older, she had funny conversations with her friends, and didn't seem to need me so much. Suddenly I understood what mothers mean when they start to imagine their child going off to college the first time they take a step. She's growing up.

For her birthday Mia got a scooter from her Abuelo. It's hot pink with streamers and pictures of Disney Princesses on it. The other day, Jenn told me that when Mia woke up from her nap, she wanted to go to the park, and that I could take her on her scooter. Easy enough.

So I got Mia up from her nap, put her tennis shoes on, and strapped her new helmet to her head. Ready to go.

Now, it's funny that this thought never occurred to me...but three year olds don't know how to ride a scooter.

It took twenty minutes for us to get to the next door neighbors' driveway.

So finally, because it was now almost dinner time, I told her to hold on, and I started to pull her using the handlebars. Please keep in mind that I had a 16 lb. 9 month old strapped to my chest in the Baby Bjorn, and the scooter is built for a three year old, so in order to take hold of the handlebars I had to bend over at a 90 degree angle. Keep that image in your head for the next 6 blocks to the park and you might start to feel what I was feeling.

So I'm a little ticked off. (Oh, and when we got to the park one of the mother's said, "Oh! Your baby's thrown up on you!" Yeah.) But when we got to the park, I could tell that Mia was a little frustrated as she tried to kick her little leg and make the scooter go on her own.

"You know, Mia, you'll get the hang of it. You just have to practice, that's all."

She looked up at me from underneath her little helmet and said, "That's alright, Brooksie, scootin's just fine by me..."

First, I laughed, and then (I know) got choked up again.

When I first brought Mia to the park, she was 18 months old. She only swang in the baby swings and she only really talked when I asked her what a cow or a doggy said. Now, scootin's just fine by her? What happened in the last 18 months?

It's been such a privilege to be a part of this little girl's life, to be a part of her whole family's life. Most days I feel guilty that I even get paid to do this. (Not that guilty, though, so don't get any ideas John-Paul.)

So, my baby's growing up, scootin' through her fourth year of life, and I bring you this sentimental post from a cry-at-the-drop-of-a-hat nanny this week because next week...we are all embarking on a Disney Cruise together. And I, Brooksie, will be sharing a room with Mia.

So stay tuned for next week and what may be a post that has a significantly smaller amount of sentiment.

Anchors away.