Hoobastank, or: Part 2 of our Disneyland Adventures

With Steve's leave cleared, airline tickets booked, and a hotel room on lockdown, we were giddy with excitement.

Seriously giddy.

The next morning when we woke up, the first word out of Steve's mouth was, "Disneyland!"

Which obviously reminded me of that scene in Hot Rod, when Andy Samberg returns to consciousness exclaiming, "HOOBASTANK!"

And from that instant, a new code word was born.

Since we'd decided not to tell the kids, we simply started referring to our upcoming surprise Disney trip as "Hoobastank."

"Are you SO excited for Hoobastank?"

"Hubs! I can't wait for Hoobastank!"

The kids--even usually inquisitive Grace--had less than zero percent interest in these conversations, leaving us free to discuss in front of them with no fear of discovery.

And you guys. We were EXCITED.

We were SO excited.

Not just at the thought of going to Disneyland (which, let's be honest, is more than enough) but also at the relative spontaneity of the trip. Because we have four kids, and because Steve's job has almost never allowed us to just pick up and go without at TON of notice, deciding to make a trip just three weeks away felt delightfully freeing. Maybe even a little irresponsible--but in the absolute best way.

In the days leading up to our trip, our text messages devolved quickly into lovey dovey Disney gifs and exclamations of HOOBASTANK!

And then, two days before our flight, I pulled out my phone after dinner and took this video of the kids:




They were delighted.

And then there was nothing left to do but pack.

Wake up at 4am to catch our flight.

And have this beautiful little piece of meant-to-be Disneyland magic pop up on the radio as we drove to the airport:

What are the odds?

Go back: We Didn't Mean to take the Kids to Disneyland (Part 1 of our Disneyland Adventures)

or

Read on: Part 3 of our Disneyland Adventures

We didn't mean to take the kids to Disneyland

Once upon a time, not so very long ago (in February, in fact), we took a magical trip to Disneyland. It was a wonderful trip--filled with Dole Whips, beach trips, and grandparents.

And when we had to come home our little kingdom was very sad.

Saddest of all, perhaps, were Steve and I, who even after the passage of half a dozen months, were still mourning the anniversary trip that never was--a just-us-two Disneyland vacation that was canceled when Steve was called in for a month of active duty CCATT service.

As the days and months passed, images of an all-Pixar celebration--Pixarfest!--started trickling in to my Instagram feed.

People were eating Nemo-shaped caramel apples, and wearing Wall-e themed Mickey ears and hoodies!

Pixar + Disneyland!?!

I immediately started daydreaming up ways to go!

It didn't make sense, obviously. We'd just gone with the kids, and Steve can't get time off work without a good month or two of notice. We'd have to find the money somewhere. We love Disneyland, but not enough to max out our credit cards or anything.

And I don't know if you know this, but we have kind of a lot of kids, but zero nannies.

We put it our of our minds.

Kind of.

I mean, I kept checking the Instagram hashtags and stuff, but we were resigned to the fact that there was really no way we could go.

Then one night, Steve came home from a really rough shift at work. Discouraged and tired, he climbed in bed beside me as I slept and, uncharacteristically, he opened Instagram. And pulled up the #pixarfest hashtag.

In the quietest part of church the next day, he leaned over and whispered into my ear, "I think we should go to Disneyland at the end of May."

Me: wide eyed. Whisper-yelling. "WHAT?"

He'd looked at his schedule. There were a few shifts he could move around that were already sandwiching a few days off. He could swing 5, maybe 6 days of travel.

I checked the budget. I'd have to move some things around, but yeah--we could do it! We could make it happen!

He immediately texted his sister Jessica, asking if she could fly in for the week in question. She was all for it, and submitted a request for time off from work. (Bless her. She is the best.) She told us we'd have to wait three days for them to process the request.

We waited. And while we waited, it started looking less possible.

Getting military leave was looking complicated. Jess hadn't heard anything back. Were we just being ridiculous?

(Yes, but I mean... It's Disneyland.)

Finally, the fatal text: Jess couldn't get work off.

No babysitter.

So... no Disney trip.

Our hearts were a crushed. Steve was so sad. I immediately started putting out messages on Facebook, scrambling to find someone local who could watch the kids. Every message I got back was more disappointment.

It had felt so close. I could see us skipping through the park holding hands. Really. Then--poof. Gone. Sad.

Sad sad sad.

Around ten o'clock that night we were climbing defeatedly into bed, lamp light glowing, darkness well descended outside. And in a sudden moment of carefree extravagance I said, "What if we just took the kids?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah! What if we just took them with?"

And in minutes we were snuggled up side by side with a laptop, checking flights and looking at hotels, figuring out stroller rental options and whether the kids still had enough absences left at school to scrape by without getting in trouble.

Steve had one thing left to check--one little kink to work out to make sure he could get official 100% approval on his leave. (No AWOLing for Disneyland, guys!) If he got it, we were booking tickets RIGHT THEN.

I waited all day.

Then, at 4:21pm, I got this text:

By 7:31pm I'd booked us flights and a hotel, and we were officially taking our kids back to the Happiest Place on Earth. ♥

Read HOOBASTANK, or: part two of our Disneyland adventures.

We ♥ Hawk's

Hawk's Pumpkin Patch has been a staple of our fall festivities since we moved to Winston-Salem. Most of the year it's just a wide stretch of empty lawn, but at the beginning of October it starts to fill up with, well... I guess Fall festivity. :)

There's a large shelter filled with apples, gourds, and cider. The lawn is dotted with hundreds upon hundreds of pumpkins in all shapes, sizes, and colors--all set up in gridded squares that stretch from the parking lot to a field of high, golden grass. And they bring in all kinds of good stuff for photo ops, too. Huge wagons (huge!), little red Radio Flyers, lean-tos corn covered in rustic corn husks and grasses, a little tee-pee, and of course some hay bales and gigantic pumpkins to prop your kids up on.

(No promises that they will all smile at the same time, though.)

Last Monday we drove down Clemmonsville and turned the kids loose to explore.

Juliette was immediately enamored of several baby pumpkins, and did some loops carrying them around. After weeks of driving by Hawk's (always with exclamations of "PUMPKINS!!!" from one or all of the back-seat-drivers) she was thrilled to be able to touch them for herself.

She was also pretty excited to get to roam free, untethered by parental hand-holding and unhindered by attentive siblings (who were too busy having their own fun to chase her around).

Something about the rows between the pumpkins really shouted "RUN!!!" to the kiddos for some reason, so they did. They spent a good five or ten minutes just running laps through the pumpkin grid.

And Gracie brought me a dandelion.

My heart feels happy when they bring me flowers. I remember doing that for my mama. I don't know where that little tradition came from, because I never taught them to do it, but I love it. I love that I am the person in their life who gets brought flowers. I can't really explain the exact why. Just that they see something beautiful, and they want to give it to me. It's one of those heart-overflowing things that takes you by surprise.

Kind of like this doodle I noticed on the back of Gracie's sketchbook:

She thought she might like to draw some things at the pumpkin patch, so she brought along paper and pencil to keep track of the important things she saw.

She's getting so grown up that my heart does a little backflip every time I look at her out and about in the world like this. I can't seem to begin expecting to see a seven-year-old instead of the little toddler who always wanted me to lift her up to watch water running into the washing machine. Luckily at seven she is still full of magic and thoughtfulness and giggles.

They're buddies.

And speaking of buddies, Gracie took some pictures of me with my BFF, too. ;)

After the running and the photo ops among squashes and on big wagons, we grabbed a Radio Flyer to haul our chosen pumpkins around in. But it turned out everybody needed rides first. :)

There was much rejoicing and only a few instances where it looked like the whole kit and caboodle were going to topple out. (They didn't.) All in all a successful venture (and Gracie got a very good workout hauling her sibs around!).

We all took the business of pumpkin-choosing very seriously, deliberating one by one until the wagon was full. It's kind of a big deal, so it's worth it to really take your time. You have to find your spirit-pumpkin, because you only get one a year.

Gotta make it count.

Fair Weather

It's Dixie Classic Fair time!

Well, it was last week anyway. Steve had the day off and the weather was gorgeous, so we pulled Gracie out of school early (surprise! She and Steve had a funny run-in in the hall as he went to sign her out--neither expected to see the other by the office) and took everyone to the fairgrounds to live it up.

It was only our second time going since we've been in Winston, and I have to admit--I liked this time even better than our first trip! (Though it probably helped that I wasn't 37 weeks pregnant this time!) (Also, I am not any weeks pregnant, in case that thought just popped into your mind.)

I'm already getting off track.

Let's see.

So, obviously we kicked the day off with a family selfie (Juliette's elbow made it in, so we're counting it) as we waited for the potbelly Pig Races--one of my favorite things to do at the fair. Second only to eating caramel apples.

The kids were hungry and wanted to be on rides, so it took some convincing to get them to sit around waiting for pigs to race. (They clearly didn't remember it from last time, because obviously it is awesome.)

So while we waited I passed out snacks from my bag of tricks, and had them make faces while I took their pictures.

Then Steve disappeared and returned with a giant cup of strawberry lemonade, which we all shared (AND--FREE REFILL! WIN!). This perked everyone up considerably.

Though it was a little touch-and-go as far as sharing. (For all of us. That stuff was good.)

When the drink was gone, Steve started passing out the little ring-shaped ice cubes to the littles, which the kids ate and/or stuck on their fingers.

And Gracie really enjoyed mugging for the camera, obviously. :) She's a barrel full of monkeys.

Anyway, after a lot of waiting and country songs, the presenter guy finally came out. He announced that the pigs would be racing around the track to win their coveted first place prize--an Oreo. These are the kids faces while he was explaining.

They really were not on board with this endeavor at all. Boring until proven interesting, pig guy.

But then the pigs came out! And they raced!

Some of them were slow, and some of them were fast, and they all had ridiculously wonderful pun-tastic names like Jennifer LoPIG and Hillary RodHAM Clinton.

And they were so cute.

Gracie was the designated section 2 cheerleader for one race, and she was pretty into it. Because clearly pig racing is actually awesome. Steve and I were thus vindicated for making them wait to watch it.

Right near the pig racing trailer were a bunch of RVs and trailers. They were open so you could peruse them, so we did. You know what? They were fully amazing. I have never wanted an RV, but these things had lots of space, nice large open and functional kitchens, and some of them had full-sized showers. TVs, a fireplace (overkill?!), and all kinds of cool stuff. I told Steve, I could totally do "camping" if it meant getting dirty and hiking and stuff all day, but then having somewhere clean to sleep at night. I can be an outdoor girl until it is time to take a shower or use the bathroom. Then I want to be INSIDE. And clean. That's just how I was made. ;)

My favorite one wasn't super crazy, it was a trailer that had four bunkbeds in the back. How much fun would the kids have all bunked together like that? Serious fun.

So, maybe my new dream is an RV? For today at least.

Moving on.

From the moment we saw the ferris wheel (from the street, still driving) Gracie knew she wanted to go on it.

So when we finally bought our tickets she and Charlie were FREAKING OUT excited.

Then it took us up in the air--just a few feet off the ground--and their eyes both got round as saucers and their faces said WHAT HAVE WE DONE?!?! So I slipped in between them and held on to them tight. Steve and I locked eyes across the gondola from each other and wordlessly conveyed how totally freaked we both were as we pretended to be totally cool so the kids wouldn't panic.

With mama between them, the big kids recovered and enjoyed themselves.

Juliette felt differently about her experience.

When we got off, she said, with what was obviously an epic relief and awed gratitude for her mere survival, "We did it, the wheel."

*phew*

Nice work, parents.

Then it was on to more rides.

Though he was totally cool with being forever up in the air on the ferris wheel, Charlie thought the carousel was the worst thing ever. I tried and tried to get him up on a horse but he would NOT have it. Finally we ended up sitting on a bench (not even a pretty decorated one--just a regular looking bench) on the second floor while Gracie rode a horse.

Even from that safe vantage point, Charlie was not overly thrilled.

His take: "This is too bad. My body doesn't like it... but my face does."

I'll take it.

Then, more rides! (And for Juliette--more watching!)

Those tickets are so expensive, but they had so much fun that it was totally worth it. Loved how they kept choosing to ride together, too. :)

Our grand finale of the afternoon, as everyone wore down and our tickets ran out, was--fair food! Of course! What's a Walton outing without yummy food? (And taking pictures of it?!)

The big kiddos each got a candy apple.

Charlie was pretty intense about his. It was hard to get him to make eye contact. At least with me. The apple got a lot of eye contact. The sprinkle dust all over his lips and cheeks is killing me. :)

Gracie was more than up for the monumental task of eating a candy apple with three missing front teeth.

She even found room in her cheeks to stuff in some funnel cake and make this awesome face for me.

And Juliette took over my chocolate covered apple AND the funnel cake, double fisting her desserts until she'd had her fill.

Steve was cracking up. She was serious as a heart attack, chowing down on her fair delicacies non-stop--until she'd eaten all the chocolate and sprinkles off the apple, at which point she gave it a disgusted look and gave it back.

We ♥ the fair.