How to Get Your Kids Ready for School

How to Get Your Kids Ready for School

Subtitle: I’m writing this more for myself, in the hopes that while I do this I will take my own advice.

Fat chance.

36 days now. That’s like a month. Are you watching Doomsday Preppers? Ya should, just a suggestion.

Step 1: Have your significant other pack lunch since they have to get up an hour before you do. This lets you sleep longer, but also pawns off some work on your other because there was a point in your life where you went to parties, did crazy things, drove to strange places in the middle of the night, were the life of whatever event you were at but now you are a Room-mother and a Girl Scout mom while your husband (yes, it is usually the man - sorry) still manages to be the same person he has been for years so yes, he needs to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Gives you more Daniel time too...

Step 2: Use the Snooze button. Ok, maybe step one should have been go to bed before one a.m. or so but dammit, the house was so quiet that it was hard not to stay awake and just sit enjoying silence, beautiful, peaceful silence, like you are right now, the lingering Daniel Jackson dream still playing out in your head, his lips, his touch, his...

 “MOM!!!! WILL CALLED ME A BUTT CHICKEN AND YOU SAID WE COULDN’T SAY BUTT CHICKEN ANYMORE!!! 

This, my friends, is the reason I’m a fan girl. To escape THAT. 

Step 3: Coffee. Drag yourself up but even though your wonderful spousage most likely made those lunches, you will need to pack and repack their backpacks FIFTEEN times because for some unknown reason they have decided that there is a bouncy ball that they earned from the prize box, that you somehow missed because you would have taken that bitch out and HID it, that they needed this morning, right now, no waiting, while you were trying to tell yourself that you really were asleep wrapped in Daniel’s arms. Now, their homework, binder, everything is ALL OVER THE PLACE. Oh yeah, the coffee. That’s important. That’s what’s making you not just go back to bed and let them fend for themselves. 

Step 4: Don’t feed the cat the night before. Ok, fine, this should go before step one, but I’m only about a quarter of the way into my coffee and it really is seven in the morning as a I write this and the ONLY time I’m up at seven in the morning voluntarily is when I’ve been up all night shopping. Because, without fail, this morning, right now, as you are seriously contemplated running away to Vancouver to kidnap your celebrity love obsession, the cleanest creature living in your house by far will have decided to puke. Right in front of the silverware drawer. Seconds before Adorable Nerd needs a spoon for his cereal. And you will step right in it. It’s still warm. I’ve got coffee, anyone got an whiskey?

Step 5: Showers should be taken the night before because adding anything to the morning other than putting on clothes should be nixed. Just lay off of me for the list today, you can print it, cut and paste and reorder on your own damn time it is now seven in the morning for crying out loud! I have nothing else to say other than if coffee doesn’t wake you up having your six year old rolling in the floor laughing because she just pulled your seven year old’s towel off, as he is running upstairs naked holding his junk while she screams that she hid his tightie whities, that sure as hell will. But not in a good way. I need more coffee. Can I just go back to Daniel? 

Step 6: Start the countdown twenty minutes out to AIS. If you never watched “Everybody Loves Raymond” AIS = Ass in Seat. It is the exact moment when my ass will be in the driver’s seat putting the car into reverse so if you do not want to walk you need to get your ass into the passenger seat. This is how it goes down EVERY morning. 

Me: 20 minutes to bus.

Kids: Ok

Me (5 minutes later): 15 minutes to bus. 

Kids: Ok

Clare: Will stop watching TV. 

Me: (turns TV off). Go get your shoes on and brush your teeth. 

Me (5 minutes later): 10 minutes to bus. 

Will: Clare won’t go away. 

Me: What’s she hurting?

Will: Her presence makes me move slower. 

Me: Clare, go to the kitchen.

Me (5 minutes later): 5 minutes to bus. Are those teeth brushed? How about your hair?

Kids: We’re ready. 

Me: (Walking out the door): I am walking out of the door right now.

Will: WHERE ARE MY SHOES!!!

Clare: I HATE YOU WILL YOU ARE GOING TO MAKE ME MISS SCHOOL. MOM CAN I HAVE A NEW BROTHER. 

The definition of insanity is repeating the same thing over and over again expecting a different result. Where’s my jacket? 

Step 7: Do not let them play with their pets. EVER. Even if by some miracle of Athena they’re ready to go twenty minutes early keep them away from anything furry including vomit cat. Because if not, they will pull the tail off the the gerbil, in a panic, as you give the AIS last call up the stairs, and then come downstairs screaming with a gerbil tail in their hand while the creature it is supposed to be attached to is upstairs, loose and bleeding. Trust me, nothing says parenthood like crawling all over the floor after a scared bloody gerbil that you have to wrap in a dishtowel to take with you to the bus stop only to come home and spend most of the day on the phone trying to figure out if this beloved pet is going to die. No worries, he’s fine - my sister is the president of her 4H club and works at a pet store, she fixed him right up. I just call him Stumpy. 

Step 8: Drive like the wind, maybe with a bloody animal in your hands, down your insane long OMA why do we live out here like this driveway, around the potholes your neighbors won’t have filled in because they cannot grasp the basic concept of road maintenance and are too stupid to just buy gravel and shovel themselves to drive over the plastic speed bumps installed by the stupidest of your stupid neighbors, because really SPEED is an issue in the MIDDLE OF NOWHERE, while lead stupid neighbor pulls out in front of you, slowing to a crawl and then stares down the bus driver like she does not belong on our private road picking up MY kids. I really hate these people, like madly, can someone PLEASE make them go away. And bring me another coffee. And Daniel. 

Step 9: Get on the bus. Kiss. Hug. I love you too. Go, no, go Mrs. T is waiting. Go, wait, where’s your coat? Did you brush your hair? Your teeth are yellow? No, I didn’t have time to get your coat, I was retrieving your gerbil who is bleeding on my yoga pants. Get on the bus, I will see you at three. Wait, Stumpy, stay in the dish towel!!!

Step 10: We know what this step SHOULD say but it is seven thirty a.m. I want wine. Badly. I want Daniel. More than words can express. I want to go back to bed but I have to log into work and deal with someone else’s kids.  So, let’s do some math. It’s gotta be 5 p.m. somewhere, right? One of your international readers? Have a glass, please, for me, and tweet me a pic. 

My twitter handle is @ladiosabri 

Thanks in advance. 

How to Go To College

How to Go to College

Subtitle: I am not sure how we graduated. Seriously, did we even go to class??

58 days. I got nothing. No seriously, I haven't even bought those special bullets. 

Step 1:  Find one other insane person with whom to share this experience. Personally, I found that orientation worked pretty well for me, since I quite literally found one of the most insane people in my life right off the bat. There was something about her, locura radiating from her person, and I bounced up happily and introduced myself (i’m kinda loud, I do things like that).  However, if going to cheesy mandatory orientations is not your thing, you can go to class, but we are putting that off as long as possible. You are going to need this person because when you find out that your assigned roommate is a Vala -like Space Herpes ridden whore, you’re gonna have to move in with them. Oh, and make sure they will clean up your puke. In an Easter bucket. Trust me, that’s helpful. 

Step 2: Cultivate a larger group of nutjobs. You need your person, yes, but we know there is safety and power in numbers, so you need to create your group, yourself. Greek life is useless. I mean really, you invited me to this stupid party, acted like fake asses, selling yourself to me, pulling me aside and saying shit about my friends and then expect me to PAY to hang out with you. I’m poor and I’m a bitch. I think I will stay with these people. You can find these people in one of three ways: 

1. Kidnap them from the sidewalk because they are cute. (Hey - I got me a husband that way!) 
2. Join the Theatre Guild. Trust me, ALL the crazies go here. 
3. Roommates of the crazies. Birds of a feather shit and all. 

Step 3: Learn how to drink.  Seriously, this is probably the best advice that I can every give you and really should have been step one before you met your crazy because by this point you and your crazy now roommate think that Mad Dog 20/20 is proper alcohol, which it is NOT.  Here, just read this and come back to me as soon as you have printed your notes: How to Drink

Step 4: Use Greek life to your advantage. Ok, so remember those yuppies bitches that made you come to their stupid make-up party? Wanted you to pay like $500 a year to hang out with them? Guess what they and their male counter-parts DO with that money. THEY BUY BOOZE AND HAVE PARTIES! AND they LET you go do even though you laughed at them for not paying to be their friends and you get to drink for FREE!!! 100% Free!!! It’s genius!!! For real, is someone telling these freshman who are having to streak through campus or drink stupid shit like they’re auditioning for Fear Factor? Wait, on second thought don’t. More free booze for nerds. 

Step 5: Don’t hate the playa, hate the game. Now, here’s how dis gonna go down....and step five is da place ta put it.  Haters gonna start seeing that you got the whole college package, the parties, the trips, the everything and you didn’t do anything other than find a bunch of like minded nerds and pile into Hot Roommate’s dorm. Let ‘em hate! They’re just mad that we are all here on scholarship, don’t have to pay for our friends and are on the dean’s list. Every. Damn.Semester. Let ‘em hate. You’re gonna be laughing at them in ten years. 

Step 6: Oh yeah, maybe you should go to class. Dean’s list is all good and true but they are starting to catch on to the fact that you are never there but have an A average and now if you miss class they are going to fail you, A’s or not.  So, here’s the plan: Take classes with your nerd friends and alternate whose turn it is to go. Monday friend 1, Wednesday friend 2, Friday friend 3, etc. It works really well, I mean, hey, you got the notes from today? What do you mean it was my turn to go? It’s YOUR turn to go? No, Jessi goes on Wednesdays. What do you mean she switched? Since when???

Step 7: Prepare for the unexpected. Because one day you will be in your dorm eating a bowl of rice from your friend’s illegal rice cooker. And you will get a call that one of your acquaintances that your friends feel the need to babysit has just left the dorm to meet up with a strange Canadian Man she met on the internet (This HAS nothing to do with Michael Shanks people, I swear, THIS is how my life plays out for REAL) who happens to be named after a famous 1950’s rock star at a local seedy hotel known for Suspicious River like activities (Ha! Got HIM in this one, I am a GODDESS). But, after you throw your pajama clad ass into your car, well your friend’s car because you refuse to let the Porn Star (yes, I had an AeroStar Van in college. We peeled off the AERO and replaced it with PORN) be involved in such insanity, you drive to the hotel to discover that they are not there, it was a ruse, so you describe her to the police, explain it is a strange internet man and then drive around campus shouting her name around like a crazy person to find she has taken him back to her room to bed him.  Gross. I am going to eat my rice. 

Step 8: Indoctrinate new members. Now, you are going to face some competition from the Greek life as you try to recruit freshman, so you are going to need some good selling points. Try this list: 

1. We are free
2. We will not make you circle your fat while you stand naked and be judged
3. We have older members and access to booze
4. We are like the smartest kids on campus and run the tutoring center, so we have your grades covered.
5. For some sick reason the profs LOVE us
6. We won’t make you wear stupid shirts with letters from a semi-dead language on them.
7. We are free

That should do what you need to get those new members. 

Step 9: Keep in touch with these nut jobs AFTER you graduate. Yeah, we graduated, didn’t you read the subtitle? Even though they are states away and may go through some SHIT and you don’t talk for a few years and then find everyone again on FaceBook, Twitter and just because you picked up the phone. THESE are your real friends, your family, the people you were meant to find that you were brought together with under insane circumstances. Don’t forget them. Ever. 

Step 10: Go to the reunion. Sit around your porch, watching your kids play, laughing about how dumb Hot Roommate was when you flirted with him, recount runs to Philly to buy cheesesteaks and stealing street cones. Because you made it this far and the best is yet to come. Spanish wine anyone? 

I love you guys so much and I always will

How to be a Feminist

How to be a Feminist

Subtitle: There’s this clever little invention. It’s called deodorant. And, if you will recall, I have coupons. 

(On the other hand with 73 days left, you might just want to wash a little better. Save your money for that Ramen we've discussed)

Step 1: Know what you stand for.  Why are you a feminist? Do you believe that woman deserve equal rights, treatment and pay in a modern society? Hun, that doesn’t make you a feminist, that makes you human. It’s the people that believe otherwise that are not.  

Step 2: Wash. Ok, I’m not trying to be a jerk here, I’m not (and we ALL know when I just come out with straight up bitch - this is not one of those times) but I’m seriously trying to figure out what part of standing up for women’s rights means you can’t take care of basic personal hygiene. I’m not intending to be offensive; I really want to know why you are explaining to me about woman being used as slave labor in Colombia due to our coffee consumption and it’s direct correlation with your smelling like a locker room. Feel free to comment below. 

Step 3: Uh, last I checked, cooking wasn’t a sin. Let’s lay this out for you. I am very pro-women’s rights. Hot Roommate stayed home with the kids while I pursued my career and got my Master’s. Hot Roommate will be keeping my kids while I get my PhD. However, this does not mean that I can’t cook a MEAN empanada or bake an amazing cheesecake.  I can. And this does not make me some blue dress wearing house wife. I like to cook. It’s fun.  And if you think otherwise, I’m not sharing. 

Step 4: Ok, I should clarify, shave AND wash. Believe it or not, women didn’t start shaving in order to please men, they started shaving to cut down on lice.  Yes, lice. (I’m a history teacher too, remember, I’m full of delicious little tidbits of information). And as a result of said change in hygienic habits, women discovered that shaving actually led to less sweating and smelling better overall. Not for men. For you. Do you really think that onion smell coming from your pits is pleasant?? Cuz I know if I can smell you, you most definitely can...

Step 5: Stop worrying about other people. I have met feminists that are so concerned about not looking like they need a man for one hot minute that they go out of their way to be different, stand out by dressing in the typical feminist fashion, make sure that every dinner conversation turns to the suppression of women over the centuries, and walk around trying to make sure people never see you smile. What the hell?? Wasn’t NOT worrying about others the point of this movement.  So what if someone wants to wear tight clothes, she had that right. So what if she wants to get a boob job, she had that right. Just do YOUR thing and I will do mine! Oh and I wear tight jeans. Very tight jeans. Because I like to look at my butt in them. I don’t care what the men think either. Except for Michael Shanks. I would care very much what he thought, but not in a man approving of a woman kind of way, but in a I want to use you as my personal sex slave and have you pour me wine but first I have to trap you kind of way...

Step 6: He has a penis, that does make him useful. Well, for that of course, good lord for that, but more so for heavy lifting. Look, biologically, men have more upper body strength. Don’t believe me, let’s consult science http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/8477683. It says that biologically they are MADE to be stronger. Yes, you can lift weights and work-out, and I do, like a fiend, much to Hot Roommate’s annoyance at times, but if he is going to be stronger anyway, use him!! Yes, USE!! Men LIKE to be used. Let him open that jar for you, carry the bookcase up three flights of stairs, change that tire. Because there is no way you wanted to actually do that shit, is there? Admit it..... You would rather be blogging about how morally superior you are....

Step 7: Clean, shave, wash, wear deodorant...why am I having to be this specific??? I am all the way on step 7 and am still trying to figure out how not taking care of one’s self proves that women are better than men. What about you? I mean, I like smelling nice, it’s like aroma therapy right? Feel the mint...embrace the mint....

Step 8: Things that are not an attack on your independence. 

1. Door openings. It’s just polite. In fact, in the south we can spot a Yankee a MILE away because they are the ass that let the door slam in your face. 
2. Anything with the word “man” in it. We lived in a male dominated society for a long time and people just named things willy-nilly. They did NOT name them just to piss you off and we do not need to RENAME them to make you feel better, we are correcting the problem with NEW things now! Remember when you made fun of Republicans over “Freedom Fries”?? You are doing the SAME DAMN THING!!
3. Strip clubs. Because you seem to have a major problem with woman taking off their clothes for money (and I know strippers, some of them LIKE their job) but you have no problem dashing off to a live show of Magic Mike because they someone deserve to be objectified. Either there are NO strip clubs, or you deal with both, life does not go both ways. 
4. When your date pays for dinner. Especially when that date is male. Go back to A. It’s just nice and polite.  Sometimes I even try to buy dinner for others. If someone tries to buy you dinner, a drink (not sending you a drink in a strange bar, but while you are their together) or even a popcorn at the movie do not automatically assume they want to sleep with you. They might just be being nice.  Except for you Mr. Canadian Hot Pants. I AM trying so you just keep that in mind...

Step 9: How to avoid a relapse: A mini how to....

1. Get up and shower every morning. It makes you smell good, brightens your day and makes you a happier person. (Which might be the source of all of this nonsense in the first place)
2. Remember that nice does not mean condescending. Smile when people do pleasant things and by all means pay it forward. 
3. Be who you are, even if that chic carries a coach handbag, wears high heels and have facial tattoos.  
4. Stop reading blogs, forums, watching The View (they DO NOT represent REAL women) or doing another activity that makes you want to go and picket about something stupid when we have children starving. Wait, which bring me to step 9A. 

Step 9A: CHILDREN ARE NOT EVIL.  You, dumbass, were a child once, so stop looking at them like they should no longer exist. You don’t want to have kids, fine, but don’t look at me like there is something wrong with me because I did OR condemn the woman who choose to stay home with them. Remember the part about it being a woman’s CHOICE. My mom CHOSE to stay home with us. She is also a black belt and can whup your ass. Case closed. 

Step 10: Have a beer. Yes, a beer, all grainy and hoppy and manly and NOT organic sage infused red juice of the fuckin’ goddness. Drink a god damn cheap beer, because believe it or not, you’re no better than the rest of us...

As a REAL feminist, who believes a woman can do just as well as a man and look damn hot doing it, I approve this message. 

How to Treat your Man/Woman

How to Care for your Man/Woman

Subtitle: Stop watching Romantic Comedies.  Here is the hard core truth.  Trust me, I’ve been married for a while. 

Step 1: Find a man or a woman.  In order to have someone to treat well, or to be treated well by, you have to find someone.  Because you absolutely cannot live without a significant other. At all. In fact, it is quite literally impossible for you to survive on your own so you need to do whatever it takes, scour bars, do 1-900 party lines, beg friends to set you up with someone, anyone, go to cheesy singles events, well, you get the idea. Point is... YOU NEED TO FIND A MAN (or woman...) 

Step 2: LIE to your man (or woman). They don’t want you for who you are.  Chances are, they want you because you are good looking enough to sleep with or you have money. For the initial hello, not much else really matters.  So as you chat, just keep lying.  Hell, tell them you were asked to attend the FBI academy but turned it down.  Tell them that you are a black belt in some crazy martial art that they have never heard of so they will not check in to to see if it is real.  Tell them that you can do the splits.  ;) Just lie your ass off.  Oh and remember to stick to your lie.  Once you have told your lie you will need to keep track of your lies.  Keep a note on Siri, she’s helpful like that.  

Step 3: Oh, and while you’re at it, keep talking. Talk and talk and talk and talk. Relate everything to yourself because, I mean, that’s why they are here, right, to talk about you. Talk about every pet you have ever owned, each and every bizarre medical condition you have and about the strange relationship that you have with your mother.   And don’t forget that everything they have ever done or accomplished, you have done it too and done it better. And probably more often. Which brings us to step 4. 

Step 4: Pick your poison.  In a real relationship there is no such thing as working together. Equality is a myth of the modern media. Do you ever see woman on TV with wrinkles? How about men? Yeah, thought so.  Back to relationships,  one of you need to be the dominant partner and the other is the submissive.  That’s just the way it is.  And it is not always the man as the dominant and the woman as the submissive, in fact some guys get off on the reverse. With whips. And chains.  No one will think less of you whichever you pick, but just pick one so you can move onto into your plan for a perfect relationship.  

Step 5: I pick dominant!  B$&ch get ready to roll.  You need to make sure that your man (woman) is there to cater to your each and every need whether that be rub your feet, clean your toilet, pay your bills or bail you out of jail.  Remind them each and every moment that they would be nothing without you and that they need you in every way imaginable.  If they don’t believe you, add that you chose them because no one else wanted them, so even if they leave, they can’t get anyone else, much less that non-existent better.  

Step 6: I choose submissive.... I mean...if that’s ok... Alright my dear, you will need to change everything about yourself for your man/your woman. Change your life completely to match what your man or woman wants. Stop seeing your friends, stop seeing your family, stop your hobbies, etc.  You need to do exactly what they say, when they say it, and be who they want regardless of what you did in steps 2 or 3.  Because, you want to keep them, right? If you don’t they are never going to want you and no one else ever will for that matter so just stop your damn crying and get up and make dinner right now. And bring me a beer!  And if your best friend calls this house one more time you’re out!!!

Step 7: Special occasions.  Now, remember, you really don’t love someone unless you spend insane amounts of money on them that you don’t have just to keep their affections.  And a trip to Chicago to meet the man of your dreams (do I really need to write his name anymore people...but that gets me hits....hmmmm... I love Michael Shanks - look I got him in this one too, even though he is not mine.... yet...) doesn’t cut it.  We need diamonds.  Rubies. Emeralds.  F-250’s. Seasons tickets to the Lakers. (Or the Canucks xoxox Shanks again). Trips to Paris. Can’t afford it?  I would like to introduce you to my friend Visa.  She is there when you need her the most.  (Or is that Mastercard???)

Step 8: Now post every intimate detail of your entire relationship on Facebook.  Be sure to pick the status that best represents what you are right now, whether it be complicated, in an open relationship, in a hidden relationship because he is still trying to figure out how to tell his wife that he has another woman or at least that is what he is telling you when he comes over at 2 a.m.  And make EVERY single status about your man, what he bought you, what he made you for dinner, how much you love him/her, what color shirt he is wearing, how he still hasn’t called today, how you want other people to butt out of your personal life that you broadcast all over the internet.  Remember, Facebook was created to share just this kind of information, so please, be detailed. 

Step 9:  Don’t believe the hatas. People gonna be jealous and b*%ches gonna hate.  They gonna call you and tell you that they saw your man at Wal-mart walking around the electronics department with some ho and then send you a picture of them that was clearly photoshopped with their Boost Mobile Blackberry or that sow that called claiming that she your man’s baby mama and he’d better start coughing up some paper or else she’s gonna call the 5-0.  Thems hatas. They gonna make you wanna take your earrings off.  Ignore them.  Get pregnant immediately.  

Step 10.  Spend every waking moment with your man..... Gotcha.  I hope you figured out around step 3 that I started in with the Spanish wine at step 1. It was that kinda day.  Go ahead, get yourself a glass and start back at the beginning.  It’s funnier the second time around.  And if you were looking for serious advice, again, reread. And do the COMPLETE opposite of every step.  

How to have a Fantastic Disney Vacation

How to have a Fantastic Disney Vacation

Subtitle: Jack, stop referring to yourself as Clark Griswold. This is not Wally World. This is Disney World.  You're gonna jinx us. 

Step 1: Select your destination.  Now, last year, while I was able to scratch an item off of my bucket list, I was not as careful to pick a family appropriate destination.  See, I wanted to see Graceland because I love me some Elvis Presley.  Ergo, we planned the trip, got the tickets, convinced my best friend that driving from Texas to meet us was a wise idea, etc. Sounds well thought out, right? Not so fast.  Memphis is scary, like people hanging out outside of the jail (which is IN TOWN) scary. And we camped, on the Mississippi. During storm season. And my family and my tent almost ended up in said Mississippi. Point being, while I did get to see the home of the King and where Johnny Cash recorded, that was a bad choice for ages 5 & 6.  Pick Disney until you are child-free. (Although I have nothing against Memphis, they gave us those icons of music AND Ben Browder...yummy...wait! No mental cheating on Shanks!! Bad fan! Bad fan!)

Step 2:  Book with a family member.  My cousin is a travel agent.  Very convenient.  Not only does she NOT lie to us to get us to upgrade to stupid crap, but she will patiently sit and listen to me on the phone as I go on and on about stupid people, what I hate about hotels and my incessant whining about how hard it is to buy healthy food at a theme park (really Mrs. First Lady, you wanna attack obesity, let’s start here, have you SEEN these people!?!?). Then, she is kind and patient enough to listen to your best friend whine about similar things. And, she will find you deals and let you message her everyday leading up about stupid things like whether or not the room gets HBO so you can watch Sookie on Sunday.  Or, even though you’re not related, you could just use my cousin.  So...Heather...if that works, do I get a cut??

Step 3: Drive your own car and travel at night.  Ok, we’ve talked about this before, but I have to add to my earlier posts that the sheer entertainment value of driving all night (and no I did not sleep at all and drove 4-5 hours of the trip myself - woo hoo 5 hour energy and my water plan) on this one outweighs the “kids will sleep the entire time”ness of the experience. Here is a short list of the things I witnessed on our trip down there:

1. Billboards in North Carolina. OMA I could blog just about what these things said.  They let anyone on the planet get a billboard in North Carolina and I saw everything from “Vets for Pets: A Premiere Animal Hospital” (which boggled my mind, what else do vets service other than pets? Cars? Small combustion engines? Do they do mani/pedis?) to an breadcrumb trail of signs advertising a club, it’s hours, it’s specialty nights where the last breadcrumb simply had the name of the club and “FULL TOPLESS” in all caps around the rest of the sign. That’s just a conclusion you don’t expect.  
2. Rest stops.  Not only is EVERY rest stop the entire way to Disney also the site of a Civil War battle, which of course your geeky husband will take as an opportunity to keep on homeschooling and make the kids stand still while he reads the info sign and they roll their eyes, but these rest stops have the CRAZIEST vending machines.  One rest stop in NC had items in ziploc baggies, like a vending package deal, in the machine.  Here is my favorite ziplocked item. Yes, thems Beanee Weenies...
3. Your own personal party.  Since my entire family will, undoubtedly, sleep through the apocalypse in December (don’t laugh at me people.... “We are in our last days” to quote a wise woman I know - ok, laugh at that, that was meant to be funny) a long road trip is the perfect time to whup out that iPod and blast Salt n’ Pepa, because awake they still cannot appreciate that you know and can rap every last line of ‘Shoop.’ (Dude, I’m white, that’s impressive ok?). You can even kick it up a notch and have a little fantasy in your head where a certain...never mind, that gets old after a while doesn’t it? 

Step 4: Have a friend in Florida to visit while you are there that has an insanely large house, will let you stay in it, will feed you, let you drag her to hot yoga and does not go tearing out of the class once she realizes that these people have put you in the advanced class and dear Athena I am flexible but that’s just unnatural, then takes you home and feeds you again and gets her future husband to make homemade margaritas, which you drink happily while playing Apples to Apples and get made fun of for always having your mind in the gutter. Which I DON’T. Have one of those friends.  But you can’t have mine.  I’ll fight you for her.  Get your own friend.   

Step 5: Know the rules of the road.  And by this I mean tolls.  Tolls are a state’s way of making extra money off of tourists. And not with the toll money. I mean the tickets.  Because who in the world thought going all electronic and not taking cash anymore (Yes, no cash! Where are you tea-party folks when I need you? Since when is CASH not acceptable currency?! Get to work on this already!!) was a good idea???  So, know that not only does the state of Florida no longer believe in cash but that the SunPass that you must buy HAS TO be mounted no greater than 4.3196833568351 inches below the shading by your rearview mirror but no less than 2.013295625932 x 10ⁿ. Got that? If not, apparently, this technological marvel doesn’t work. And then it’s your problem. I have already started writing my strongly worded letter. 

Step 6: Stay in the cheap resort, because in reality, why in the heck are you paying to see Disney World to stay at the Hotel!?! If I want to stay at a hotel, I go to the Jefferson.  Your Disney resort room needs to let you sleep, poop and bathe and that is pretty much it.  The downside to this is that by staying at the “Dude this is really a roadside creepy by the hour motel with a Disney theme” is that you will miss out on something things.  First, no gym.  Gotta to the Polynesian.  Second, no HBO/Cinemax/Showtime.  Gotta go to the Polynesian. Third, your bus stop in the Disney transportation system will always be DEAD last, like stop 15 of 15. Wanna be a stop #1?? YOU GUESSED IT!! Stay at the Polynesian.  In fact, that became the running joke on this trip.  

Me to Concierge: Do ya’ll have babysitting? We were thinking of going out late, after the kids go to bed. 

Concierge: Not on this resort ma’am, I’m sorry.  Here is an outside service, but it is not Disney related. 

Me: Oh, I thought I read online that you guys had people.  

Concierge: No, ma’am, you must have been reading the description of the Polynesian.  

Ok, ok, not the real exchange, but pretty close.  So, if you want resort amenities, go to the Polynesian.  But really, the parks are like $100 a day to go. Save your money. You will need it for every frikkin thing else.  

Step 7: Attack the parks with a plan.  DO get maps online, figure out what you want to ride and see, try to visit parks on non-peak days, etc. DO NOT go to Animal Kingdom on a whim without a plan, get handed a FastPass at the door by a nice stranger that expires in 10 minutes, grab your best friend’s husband and make a mad dash across the park like 16 year olds while your spouses keep the kids and stand confused by what just happened. Because after you sprint about a half a mile, not even kidding here, you will get there and the ride will be closed. Oh, and that FastPass mess doesn’t work like you think it would either.  Best Friend’s Husband and I got a great idea to run around the Magic Kingdom and collect passes for everything we wanted to ride so we could schedule our day.  Apparently, you can only get one of these things at a time.  We discovered this AFTER we power walked another half a mile.  Two lessons in this: 1) Plan ahead better and 2) Bri &Thomas really have no idea what they are doing.  

Step 8: Buy your own food. Not in Disney.  There are grocery stores,etc. nearby.  I promise, even if you flew, it will be cheaper to take a cab to the grocery store than to eat there.  Our first meal we snacked, really didn’t even get real food, and it was over $50.  For snack food.  It would have been $80 if I hadn’t cut the kids off.  In addition, besides eating in the room as much as possible to save $$, you can take your food in the park.  This is important because Disney says their parks have healthy options.  They lie.  My steamed veggies at one stop were taking a nice hot butter bath and the only healthy thing I found in the parks was either a $2 apple OR you had to eat in Epcot.  Which is a nice side note.  Epcot, in an effort to preserve the cultural integrity of other countries, serves semi-authentic food. Which means it is not crap.  Because in Norway (GREAT FOOD) they don’t eat Cheetos and Ho-Ho’s. Eat there. 

Step 9: Don’t count on having the internet. I am assuming that since you are reading my blog that you like to use the internet and probably read other blogs.  Don't expect to have working internet, fast internet or, for that matter, open internet.  After getting to our room and not having internet (which almost caused me to have a melt-down - which was further exasperated by Jack making fun of me that I would have to go five days not knowing what Michael Shanks was doing, which really annoyed me because I just wanted to upload photos to the web for crying out loud!!) but Disney limits your content.  Got some funny emails from my other best friend while we were gone and went to open them.  Nope! Was straight up told by Disney that they included suggestive content and they would not open the page.  It was a True Blood PODCAST for crying out loud!! Maybe I should rename this step to: Disney will control your soul.  Yeah, that works better. On so many levels. 

Step 10: Have some wine.  And NOT from the Commissary (that is what they called the cafeteria in case you are unaware of such terminologies) because your only choices are Sutter Home mini-bottles at $7 a bottle and more Sutter Home mini-bottles at $8 a bottle (I didn’t bother to check the difference). Yuck to both. Go to the liquor store which is open till midnight, on a Sunday no less, and find yourself some good Spanish. Because after being trapped in large packs of sweaty people whose deodorant has worn off, getting rammed into by strollers and motorized carts, listening to your children whine and fight about what to ride next, and getting sun poisoning, your’e gonna need it.  And after that car ride home. That you took during the day. Because you thought the kids would want to see sights. And then they needed to pee every damn hour. We’re never going to make it home....

P.S. -My birthday is on September 28th. I would like Apples to Apples please. 

P.S.S. - We really did have an amazing time, but telling about the good things is not as funny. 

P.S.S.S. - I got my internet working and kept up with my little obsession for the entire five days thank you very much ;)