building magic and making memories with the legoland: the grand opening of the legoland hotel

I'm no stranger to open-ended play and I'm not shy about praising the often overlooked intricacies of simplistic play. Children are so naturally creative and, in life, we can provide them with either toys and tools to nurture that creativity or ones to stomp it out completely. Legos are the former and they have always topped my list of favorite children's toys for that very reason plus -- and I'm sure you would agree -- they are completely timeless. Give a child a set of Legos and watch their brilliant imagination create something incredible. Not surprisingly, Lego founder Ole Kirk Christiansen felt the same. Lego is essentially synonymous with endless possibilities and though it has been almost a year since our family's first Legoland trip, I can still feel the magic of seeing Legoland -- and all of the magic of the park -- through Ethan's eyes for the first time. When I learned that Legoland Florida was opening The Legoland Hotel in May 2015, I was wondering if and how they would be able to pull off that same Lego magic.

From the moment we stepped through the front doors of the Legoland Hotel, it was apparent that all of the love, thought and quality synonymous with the Lego name had gone into this hotel, too. There wasn't a single detail spared in transforming the hotel lobby into a place of magic. While I checked in with the kind and incredible staff, the Legoland Hotel employees proved they knew how to make a kid feel special. Instead of hanging around impatiently while I filled out paperwork and signed some forms, the employees included Ethan in the process and really helped him feel important!

The Legoland Hotel lobby in itself was one of the highlights of Ethan's trip. Kids were encouraged to use their imaginations to build on the lobby pillars and there was even shelving in the lobby for children to show off their Lego masterpieces. This emphasis on building imagination, creativity and confidence completely touched my heart. After all, that's what life is all about!

The question I've been asked the most since we've gotten back from our trip is about the age appropriateness of it all. Is the hotel a good fit for older kids? For honeymooners? For teenagers? For parents who want to take a little break since this is their vacation too? My answer is an overwhelming yes. Just to the right of the Lego castle play structure is an aesthetically pleasing Legoland lounge. On Tuesday evening, I was able to grab a Shirley Temple (hey, I know how to party, okay?) alongside fellow blogger Essentially Erika at the Legoland lounge and it was impossible to not feel a little swanky and grown up. Yes, even at Legoland!

The rooms themselves were also nothing short of magical! Each floor is assigned a different theme (Pirate, Adventure, Kingdom or Lego Friends). We were given a room on the ancient Egypt floor -- the adventure floor -- which was actually a fantastic surprise for Ethan, who has been a little obsessed with the exhibit of the same theme at our local science museum. When the elevator opened on our floor, Ethan exclaimed, "we are in ancient Egypt! How did we get here?!" Before I gush about the awesomeness of our room in particular, let me take a minute to explain the rooms to you. Every single guest room -- that's right, all 152 of them -- include two separate sleeping areas. The adult sleeping area has a king size bed (that is so comfy) and the children's sleeping area can sleep up to three between the bunk beds and the trundle. Each children's sleeping area and adult sleeping area have their own high-definition flat panel televisions. If you wanted to upgrade, VIP rooms are available and contain more elaborate decor. VIP Suites are also available and can sleep up to six, plus they include a kids play area and a living room.

Back to our room, it took our breath away when we opened the door! All children are greeted in their rooms with a welcome treasure hunt. Once you crack the code, you open the safe and find some cool Lego treasure to take home with you!

After getting acquainted with our room, Ethan wanted to take the elevator back down to the lobby. This is both because the lobby is incredible and also because the elevator ride is a good time in itself! That's right, from the minute the elevator doors open, it's disco fever time!

There is also nightly entertainment for the kids in the lobby which meant Ethan got to participate in an awesome pirate and princess show before having dinner. Ethan's favorite part of the evening was getting to meet real Lego characters! Both the costumed Lego people and the characters did a fantastic job interacting with the children. Ethan was a little starstruck by the knight, Sir Phur, and his day was made when Sir Phur spent a good ten minutes building with him and holding a great conversation. The characters also came by the dining room tables to spend some quality time with the kids.

Speaking of dinner, we had two meals at Bricks, the restaurant inside the Legoland Hotel lobby. Let me preface this by saying taking my little family out to eat is no easy feat. My husband has Celiac and requires a gluten free diet and, out of nowhere, Ethan has decided he's a strict vegetarian. We weren't sure what to expect when it came to hotel dining, but we (especially my husband -- the food is his forte) were blown away by the options. For dinner, guests were welcomed to a buffet that featured everything from a meat carving station to a fajita bar to pastas to macaroni and cheese (and Ethan let me know this was especially delicious), to rotisserie chicken and beyond.

Upon waking up the next morning -- and to a newspaper delivered just for Ethan! -- we headed downstairs to check out the breakfast buffet before another day at the Legoland park. The breakfast buffet offered a smoothie bar, omelet bar, meat carving station, an oatmeal bar, bagels, an array of yogurts and pastries and so much more (my husband wants me to note that the smoked salmon was delicious). An added perk for families with food allergies, the chef at Bricks was very knowledgeable about gluten free dining and food allergies. If ever a staff member wasn't sure, they didn't hesitate to ask the chef for us. Another cool part about Bricks is that most of the items on the menu were fresh from Florida.

How can I forget the make your own sundae bar?!

On our drive home from Legoland, I asked Ethan if he wanted to be a master builder when he grew up. "Mommy," he laughed as he held up one of his Lego masterpieces, "I already am a master builder!"

As the staff at Legoland Hotel and Legoland Florida seems to understand, one of the best things in life is watching magical moments through the eyes of the child. Watching Ethan take it all in with wonder and sheer excitement was the best part of the trip for us. We are grateful to Legoland Florida and the Legoland Hotel for working so tirelessly to help children continue to believe in magic, in play, in imagination and in the power to be whatever you want to be (and build whatever you want to build!).

----

The Legoland Hotel is located just 200 steps away from the front of the Legoland Florida park in Winter Haven, Florida and opens to the public on 5/15/15. For more information on accommodations and to check available rooms and dates, visit the Legoland Hotel online or call 877-350-5346.

----

what i want for mother's day

It's almost Mother's Day. I have mixed feelings about Mother's Day this year. Last year, we learned Wylie was sick the day after Mother's Day. Mother's Day was the last time that I had both my babies, the last time I didn't have a worry in the world, the last time that life genuinely felt okay. I spent Mother's Day at my sister's dance competition and joined my family for a way past my bedtime trip to IHOP to celebrate. After stuffing our faces with pancakes and syrup and milkshakes, I acknowledged the fact that I should be in bed because I had a doctor's appointment first thing in the morning. Just a routine visit, of course. I probably rolled my eyes -- these routine visits were getting a little annoying, but I understood they were necessary because I had preeclampsia with Ethan. I was 27 weeks along with Wylie and that's when my preeclampsia really kicked in with Ethan. I got it, it had to be done. And then the following morning, that hand on my shoulder letting me know things just got very un-routine very quickly.

Mother's Day. It's a strange feeling this year, one that makes it feel as if I am coexisting in two different worlds at the same time. My days are spent with Ethan and, because of it, I am frantic and chaotic and messy. I wear yoga pants and t-shirts -- the latter of which I usually grab from my husband's side of the closet just because baggier works better these days. Sometimes I throw my hair up in a messy bun but, most times, it's already there and has been for the past week because washing my hair is one of those little luxuries that I don't have time for. I homeschool and I chug some coffee and I run my kid around the tri-county area trying to fill his days with magical, incredible experiences -- museums, parks, the zoo. Wherever his heart desires, really. I stress over dinner and remember at four o'clock that I didn't thaw the chicken breasts and clean up urine that isn't my own and realize, when I'm too tired to get out of bed and remedy it, that my shirt is covered in toddler snot. It is this version of me that is often welcomed and encouraged to join into the motherhood jokes. The ones that take self-deprecation to a whole new level. The ones that share memes about solely wanting alone time on Mother's Day. "I want to pretend I'm not a mother," joked one friend on Facebook. "NO KIDS," pleaded another. I've read other lists so callous, cruel and disturbing that I feel my throat close up and my eyes begin to well with tears. The other part of me, the one that co-exists in an entirely different world altogether, comes out at this time.

My second child is sitting in a silver urn adorned with blue teddy bears. There is a framed photograph of her that so much resembles her father it's insane to see. Her eyes are closed and her lips are dark and she is dead. On Mother's Day, all I want is to be covered in her bodily fluids or listening to her laugh or learn to crawl or breathe in the air or do all of the things that her heart condition never let her do. My greatest gift would be a sleepless night, frantically torn between my two children's rooms, soothing nightmares or making bottles or rubbing backs or singing lullabies at three in the morning despite not having been to sleep yet. My greatest gift would be being able to feel her heartbeat -- a healthy, strong heartbeat -- as she slept, instead of squeezing the trunk of a stuffed elephant that plays back fifteen seconds of thump, thumping from the broken heartbeat I so love. This is the world where my head floats up into on most days, a world of perspective shifts and sympathetic smiles.

Mother's Day. I am so grateful to be a mother to my two beautiful kids with their round eyes and '90's cult film namesakes. I am so grateful to have carried Wylie in my belly for those 30 weeks, to have felt her leave my body, to have held her in my arms for the short time I was able to. And I am so grateful for my Ethan, for my yellow bird, for the countless times he has saved my life with his smile. There is no honor greater than hearing him call my name, even at four in the morning when he's decided he's up for the day. The greatest Mother's Day gift of all is the privilege of holding him while he cries. It's the feel of his chest rising and falling when I check on him for the umpteenth time in the middle of the night. It's the sound of his laughter and the way he gets a dimple in his chin when he laughs. The greatest gift of all is cleaning up his messes or rationalizing with his mid-Target tantrums or answering "but why?" for the fortieth time in twenty minutes.

All I want for Mother's Day is to celebrate my babies. Both of them. All I want is to hold my beautiful son in my arms and carry him -- all 50 pounds of him -- down the driveway when he's too tired or grumpy to walk. All I want is to feel him sigh an "I love you" into my clavicle as he does when he's feeling sleepy. That is the greatest gift. It's all I want.

And, you know, maybe a new pair of yoga pants, too.

millions of peaches

On Wednesday night, we drove up to a middle-of-nowhere town in Central Florida for a much needed getaway. My parents have a lake house nestled in the boonies and apparently it makes relaxing a cinch -- for other people. The truth is, I just flat-out have no idea how to relax. The middle of nowhere makes me anxious, the hilly roads seemingly leading to nowhere but perhaps a gas station or fast food restaurant if you're lucky. Sometimes I can be like regular people and take a breath of the fresh air and let myself do and feel nothing for a few short minutes. Mostly, though, I plug Target into my GPS make the nearly forty minute trek each way because I start to fully believe I'm going through Starbucks and dollar spot withdrawals. It is rare that my husband gets time off of work and so it is nice to pack our bags and spend a few days wrangling Ethan in a new and different location. Plus, the parks really are beautiful up there with nothing but patches of wildflowers and canopies of cascading trees as far as you can see. The nature among the nothingness can be beautiful.

One of the things Ethan had been most looking forward to was picking peaches. We had found a nearby peach farm on our last trip but it had been closed as it was out of season. The season was now and all Ethan could do was sing Peaches a la The Presidents of the United States of America in excited anticipation. Blueberries are also in season and so Ethan filled buckets with fruit, rattling off all of the baked goods he wanted to make -- pies and cookies and yogurt parfaits and on and on.

Ethan could have spent hours sorting through peach trees and selecting the biggest, bluest blueberries off of branches. Actually, he did.

It was a beautiful day that I wanted to document. The day after our trip, Ethan woke up sick with some nasty cold and I am writing this buried under tissues and more germs than my squeamish self can think about. It's easier to pretend that we're still on that peach farm, listening to Ethan shout "OH, LOOK AT THIS ONE!" in between verses of Peaches.

smudge brownie and speed lemons

Florida Grown Tee by The Blue Envelope

A few days ago now, Ethan's grandmother took him out for ice cream. As per usual, his eyes focused on the chocolatiest of chocolatey flavors sitting in one of the tubs behind the glass. "I want that one," he said. The ice cream parlor employee told him it was called fudge brownie and got busy scooping it into a cup for him (plus sprinkles, of course). "I loved the smudge brownie ice cream," he told me later. And then he told his father the same thing. For days, really, he's been declaring that smudge brownie is his favorite of all ice creams and foods and anything good in this world and I just haven't had the heart to correct him.

At nearly four, these silly little speech slip-ups rarely happen anymore. Ethan has surpassed the babbling stage, waved goodbye to the attempted speech struggles and landed himself contently in the world of Adult Speak. At almost four, he's made it quite known that the days of "but why?" are starting to trail off into the sunset as he replaces the questions with declarations of his knowledge. These days, we have actual conversations about real life things and, on the days when real life feels too boring, Ethan imagines a world more magical and intricate than the one we're living in. "No, mommy, that's not red. It's more of a maroon," he will say while creating art together and I will realize yet again that, yes, he is growing up. Life is both simpler and more complicated, if that makes sense.

And so, these slip ups? I cherish them. I hold them in my heart and feel myself giggling and melting inside from the cuteness, from the last signs of baby that are disappearing into the past. I probably don't correct them as quickly as I should. Is there really any harm from it being smudge brownie just a little bit longer? Just a teeny, tiny, itty-bitty bit longer?

"Mommy, you're driving too fast. I don't think you've been looking at the speed lemon sign," my favorite backseat driver piped up on a day when I was feeling particularly stressed. I had to bite my lip. "The what?" "The speed lemon sign, mommy. The one with the 3 and the 5. It tells you how fast you need to go and I think you're going a little faster than that." "I'm not, buddy. I'm going the right speed." "Just watch the speed lemon, mommy. Pay attention when you drive." These moments renew me a little bit.

Not long after he figured out that the Taking Back Sunday song isn't about water, water (Liar) and doesn't reference the boys feeling thirsty (just quiet, interesting and arrogant), he began focusing on lyrics. "But what does that mean, mommy? What does it mean to be interesting and arrogant?" Sometimes our conversations do feel particularly grown up. Sometimes we have to sit down and have serious talks and an unraveling of grown up feelings ("I think I'm feeling left out, mommy. It hurt my heart a little bit when that happened!"). And just as fast as he tells me "you don't have to worry, mommy. I'll be okay on the playground if you wait down there and watch," he starts singing along to Matt Skiba and the Sekrets incorrectly and "I'm in love with the voices in your hair" quickly becomes my new favorite line in my new favorite song.

And these moments, man, I hold them deep in my heart. Almost four has felt like the biggest transitional age so far. It has felt like the final crossover from baby to child. I am collecting what little pieces are last to leave while still so very much admiring the beautiful boy that my little baby has become.