Before a few weeks ago, the last time I went to Disneyworld was on Spring Break during my freshman year in college. I rode the rollercoasters, didn’t give a rat’s tail about sun protection in favor of a baked “glow,” and visited a movie theater where I’m sure I complained about someone’s baby crying “too loudly.” My most recent trip couldn’t have been any more different. I spent the extended weekend riding around in the rental car past twilight to get my two-and-a-half year old to sleep each night, carried an umbrella everywhere to battle the sun, and the sound of strangers’ babies crying made my head spin faster than Linda Blair’s to locate the source of the child’s upset. Read More
Mama's Milk, No Chaser 