The week of Christmas for our household was probably one of-
if not the worst it will see in its entire history together. We didn’t have
nasty feuding families or uncomfortable long drives to far off places with
blizzards abounding. We had a 3 letter word completely and utterly consume our
entire household.
FLU
Sounds simple enough, but with 4 sick children, a sick husband and holiday dishes to be made for the 3 Christmas’ we were to attend in a matter of days it made it, at best difficult. But to top off our fiasco sundae, I had a surprise planned out for the kids. The mother of all Christmas gifts that they would only see once in their childhood from us. One that I had prepped, planned, thought out, researched and obsessed over since the Christmas before when one of our friends did the same for their children. The one place every little kid dreams about and hears the quintessential music and castle come floating across the TV screen and the twinkle of a fairy spells out the happiest place on Earth-
~Disneyland ~
I had every (literally every) detail planned out. Christmas
morning my happy excited children would find a ginormous box sitting in front
of the tree with a big red bow, and as the classic “when you wish upon a star”
played in the background the box would open with Mickey mouse balloons floating
everywhere with the ever typical mouse ears inside with custom made shirts with
their names ever so sweetly typed out in Walt Disney font saying “I’m going to Disneyland”.
The kids would scream and we would all cry and they would tell us how excited and
appreciative they were!
You’re crying aren’t you?
Once the Plague had set into motion just 3 days before Christmas I has coughing, sneezing, achy, fever ridden children. The day before Christmas Eve the big bomb set in with my husband getting the worst of it. Not to mention we had the bright idea that year to spend the night at great grandmas so she could see all the kids together on Christmas morning. So after drugging the kids and Heath with all medications known to man kind, scrubbing them off in the bath, dressing every member of my household (barely myself) and packing all the items needed for the ever magical surprise box that they couldn’t see until the next morning, all their clothes for the next day and pharmaceuticals to keep them running. Oh- and don’t forget the presents for the 2 Christmas’ in less then 5 hours of each other.
Once we made it through the evening and got the sniffling
children and husband to bed I stay up until after midnight making the magic
box. In the morning I was met with over tired, sick children, upset that they
had to even be out of bed and wondering why Santa had only brought a big box with
(supposed) promises of something that was over a week away!
Deflation sets in along with exhaustion.
The ever present illness then consumed our next 8 days with
my husband having double pneumonia to
the point we were worried about even being able to go on our trip- making our
already skeptical, barely recovered children question the validity of this “supposed”
trip. Once the doctor finally gave clearance I perfectly packed each bag, even put
the car carrier on top of the car by myself, looked up gas station, planned out
our eating stops and how I would be able to drive the entire trip so heath
could continue to rest and I would still manage to conquer our vacation as
planned.
I again am in complete denial of our current situation as
you can see, and continue with my “perfectly planned” trip.
I will spare you the complete details but after having a
crying baby the majority of the drive, myself nauseated and puking my guts out,
some even while in rush hour traffic while driving, Heath ended up taking over
and driving for most of the trip. After 17 long and grueling hours we finally
made it to Anaheim
The very next day I loaded everyone up for the first day in
the park. I was fuming because we were late getting out the door (NOT according
to my park plan print out) and trying to
manage all the details again and figure out where to park, catch the shuttle, load
all food, water bottles, hats, signature books, pin lanyards oh- and kids, was
completely taking its toll.
Then it happened.
We walked through the entrance, the music played, the looks
of wonder and marvel and pure magic struck my children’s faces.
They were here- really here
And like bees to honey they were taking it all in. They
wanted to see every thing, do everything, watch everything, and ride
everything. As an adult- being able to see the real magic happen before your
eyes was worth all the sickness, loss of plans and utter chaos I had gone
through those past weeks to get to that moment. We spent the entire week not
following much of a plan. It wasn’t the
way I wanted. It wasn’t the way I had planned it- but it was, in the words of
Mary Poppins; practically perfect in every way.
We had the delight of being able to cook our own meals in
the townhouse we rented. So here was a meal that made for a magical evening.
Green Chile
4 small chicken breasts,
pounded thin
salt and pepper to taste
1 drained 4 oz. can of chopped
green chiles
6 ounces cream cheese, room
temperature
1 cup cheddar cheese, shredded
8 slices bacon
Preheat oven to 400 degrees
In a medium mixing bowl combine
cream cheese cheddar, and green chiles.
Lay the chicken flat, season
both sides with salt and pepper, place 1/4 of the on the chicken and roll them up.
Wrap each chicken breast with 2
slices of bacon and place them in a baking dish.
Bake about 25-35 minutes
