Wonder Twin Powers, Activate...Form of Stem Cells

It's a little embarrassing to admit, but yes, I used to watch the Super Friends series with my brother on Saturday mornings in the 70s.  We used to crack up at Wonder Twins.  Zan and Jayna were hokey, cheesy and -- compared to the likes of Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman and Aquaman -- definitely ranked rock bottom on the 'ol superhero food chain.

However, for my brother and I, the Wonder Twins struck a chord in our innocent imaginations as children, and then were a great source of inside-joke humor for us later as adolescents and adults.  We laughed at how the brother-sister team would defeat their enemies.  Of course, Superman possessed superhuman strength, and Batman had all those fancy gadgets.  But, after bumping their fists together and exclaiming, "Wonder Twin Powers Activate," Zan could become the form or phase of any kind of H2O while Jayna morphed into an animal -- from Earth or any other planet. Amazingly, the choices the two made complimented each other and captured the bad guys with SWAT team precision -- like an ice unicycle and an octopus or an eagle and a bucket of water.  I mean, really.  Who would've thought that's all it took to take care of an angry dump creature or hostile aliens from outer space?

Although my brother and I are four years apart, we have been mistaken as fraternal twins (or at least Irish twins)...and oddly enough, Zan and Jayna could pass for a cartoon version of us a few years ago (minus the alien-like characteristics, of course).  I don't know.  Now that I think about it.  Al and I just may be the Wonder Twins after all!

Presently, we're preparing for battle with my brother's leukemia.  He has been admitted to M.D. Anderson Cancer Center in Houston for a week of chemotherapy to kill all the bad cells and put the disease in remission.  Well, actually...they're actually going to try to kill everything but him.  He'll then be treated on an outpatient basis for the next few weeks in preparation for the Stem Cell Transplant (SCT).  His wife, toddler and a sitter are there in Houston, and Al will visit the clinic daily for blood count checks.  Blood/platelet transfusions are expected as Al's blood counts fall (as a result of the chemotherapy) then recover.  We are praying for a full remission again which will increase the chance of a successful SCT.

Meanwhile, I shipped off samples of my blood to Houston this week, and we should find out if I'm a match in a couple of weeks.  This is where all the Wonder Twins' powers would come in handy.  Yet, we're left with the more earthly process of the practice of medicine.  While one set of docs try to smoke Al with chemo to kill all the bad stuff, another set is running our bionic blood through the works to see if we indeed are the Wonder Twins.

If I prove to be "Jayna," more than likely, I will undergo Peripheral Blood Stem Cell (PBSC) donation in my hometown -- as opposed to the more widely-known (and more invasive) bone marrow harvest.  PBSC is a non-surgical procedure done in an outpatient clinic.  I'll receive daily injections of a drug called filgrastim for five days, to increase the number of blood-forming cells in my bloodstream. Then, through a process called apheresis, my blood is removed through a needle in one arm and passed through a machine that separates out the blood-forming cells. The remaining blood is returned through the other arm.  The process could take 6-8 hours on one day, in one sitting or 3-4 hours a day for a few days.  Complications are rare for the donor, and the most common side effect is tingling lips due to calcium deficiency.  Nothing a good milkshake can't remedy.

As I wait and pray miles away from my brother, all I can think about -- which keeps me from getting too melancholy about the situation -- is that hokey animated, alien pair which Al and I identified with as children. Now as adults, we ironically hope that we can claim being true Wonder Twins as donor and recipient.

Football Mom?

One of my favorite Bible verses is Proverbs 16:9:  "In his heart, a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps."  I could preach these 14-words all day, but in a nutshell, they certainly speak to the story of my life.

I'm definitely a planner.  I like to know ahead of time what is going to happen, and I only like surprise parties when I plan them.  As a young girl, I pictured my life as a mom with a house full of lace and chiffon and a lifetime in the theater.  My position on the sidelines of a football field wasn't quite what I had planned.

Although I love the game of football -- the excitement, the pageantry, the battle -- I'm a hopeless girly-girl.  For goodness sakes, I'm a 40-something-year-old woman who still wears tutus and tiaras in my chosen (very legal and noble) profession.  So...to be caught up in the middle of all this football recruiting stuff with my oldest son is definitely a fish-out-of-water scenario.  It's somewhat outside my realm of knowledge and comfort, and to be honest, it's sometimes very stinky work.  No, I'm not kidding...being in a closed room with hundreds of sweaty young men is not as glamorous as it sounds.  It quite literally stinks. You can have your job, Erin Andrews.  Blech!

In addition, I obviously don't own the appropriate wardrobe for a proper football mom.  The only t-shirts I don are of the Mickey Mouse variety, and evidently all my jeans look like slacks instead of the durable kind.  I need to learn to wear my running shoes with my jeans -- which I hope Stacy and Clinton don't secretly film me in -- and the only accessories I should be sporting are a baseball cap and a tattoo of my son's football jersey number.  (And just what happens if he changes numbers?)

Fortunately for Zach and my need to wear outfits instead of clothes, the majority of my work as his manager has been completing football questionnaires both online and on paper and signing up for camps and combines.  I guess you could say that I'm actually the assistant to the manager as the one in charge of completing and keeping up with the paperwork.

Speaking of the paperwork, it's interesting to see what these colleges and recruiters want to know about football players.  Most of them request the same information such as athletic stats:  height, weight, 40 time, bench press max, position(s), jersey number (they could just read it off of mom's forearm), and athletic honors and recognition.  There is also the obligatory academic data:  graduation date, grade point average, ACT/SAT scores and academic interests (not majors).  It cracks me up that they don't expect athletes to know what their intended majors will be.  I guess they'll have to coach them later on what to say to the press when asked instead of looking quizzically at the reporter with the most honest answer of, "Football?"

The most intriguing part of the questionnaires to me is the personal and family information category.  Honestly, after completing about three of these forms earlier in the year and asking Zach each time the odd questions from various college forms, I finally sat down with him and wrote out a "football resume."  I included every obscure nugget of info on my son and his 17+ years of living that we could possibly think of -- plus, I counseled him on the best way to efficiently word each of his answers.  I now keep a three-ring binder on interest letters from coaches and invitations to camps and combines along with a copy of the NCAA Recruiting Rules.  In my notebook, I also have all of his ACT prep and testing information as well as his football resume, his NCAA clearinghouse information, his transcript and his summer schedule.  Yep, I'm his Jerry Maguire.  Show me the scholarship!

Here are some of the questions I find unusual and some I simply find fun to answer:

Who are the two most influential people in your life (and provide their phone numbers)?
Of course, Zach always lists his dad as the most influential person in his life -- which I never take exception to.  Yet, he stalls when he has to list two people.  Really?  You have to think about it?  Why doesn't the selfless woman sitting at the computer at midnight with you answering these blankety-blank questionnaires come to mind?

And how funny is it that they want you to put phone numbers with the list...as if to say, "We don't have time to look back through the questionnaire to see if the numbers are already listed and don't make us try to find these people on our own.  We may need to get them quickly in order to talk some sense into you, boy!"

Of the two most influential people in your life, who would assist you most in choosing which college to attend (and provide his/her phone number)?
So, in other words, you have to rank your loved ones...oh, yes and again provide those necessary phone numbers.

List your mother, father and head football coach's alma maters.
The Blind Side definitely comes to mind when I fill this one out.  The NCAA representative asks Michael Oher's character in the movie when questioning the Ole Miss family's motives behind aiding him, "What do the Touhey's think of Tennessee?"  To which he replies honestly, "Oh, they hate Tennessee!"

Fortunately for Zach, the University of Alabama and Auburn University are well represented by his father and coach respectively...and what's not to love about my school, Samford University?  Yeah, we hate Tennessee, too...but we filled out a big orange questionnaire in a postage-paid envelope headed straight to Knoxville.  We will leave no stone unturned -- including 'Ol Rocky Top.

What's your connection to this university?  Name students or alumni you know from this university.

This took a little digging because I never want to leave anything blank.  So, at the baseball fields or in my ballet studio, I would inquire about anyone and everyone's educational backgrounds.  I kept a running list of friends and family members' alma maters so that we could complete that section of the questionnaire and Zach would be up to speed in case it ever came up in an on-campus visit.

And while I'm on the subject of on-campus visits, that process alone brings up stories and lessons which Scott and I have only scratched the surface on in our parenting this oldest child of ours before he flies the nest.  Between my learning what to say and not to say to coaches based on NCAA rules and my own son's adolescent hang-ups, I'm scared to open my mouth on campus.  (I nod and smile a lot as if I don't speak the coach's language.)  Yet, according to Zach, I'm NOT suppose to direct my son on what to say and when to shut up before he sits across the desk from a head football coach just because my interview skills stemmed from the pageant variety?  Uh, yeah...I think carting you around to all these places entitles me to disperse a little advice in the car, Big Guy.  So, swallow that pill or the car ride home will be more than just a little uncomfortable!

Attach or link a copy of your highlights film.

After years of being in marketing on both sides of the camera, I understood a demo-reel -- which is the same thing as a highlights film for athletes.  Basically, you're showing off.  Zach's film is the product of what his high school coaches put together from last season together with the efforts of a dad Scott met at a combine.  He took Zach (and Scott) under his wing and showed him the ropes of getting recruited -- which included making Zach's highlight film snazzy by adding labels and arrows.  Of course, my boys cringe a little when I use words like "snazzy" when it comes to anything to do with athletics, but don't you think the arrows and such added a lot?  I do.  I give it two thumbs up.

What are your hobbies?

Seriously?  Boys who go to high school and play football have hobbies?  Well, I guess I could've been perfectly honest and listed eating, lifting weights, conditioning, eating some more, studying, attending camps and combines, a little sleep and eating as his hobbies.  (Did I mention eating?)  Or, I could've rattled off things like aggravating his siblings, procrastinating cleaning up his room and bathroom, generating piles of stinky, sweaty clothes, accumulating fast food sacks in his truck, playing video games with his brothers and watching violent movies with his friends.  For some reason, I refrained from showing his multifaceted persona and went with those things that he tends to do on vacation when time and money are not as closely guarded -- golf, backpacking and travel.

Scott and I both give Zach a hard time as a our first born.  We have to -- we don't know what we're doing.  He has a lot on him as our expectations are high.  Yet, for the most part, he takes it all pretty well.  He's a great kid -- loving and protective of his family, conscientious of his studies and his grades, respectful to authority and loyal to his friends and his team.  If we had it all to do over again with Zach, we would probably change much about how we parented him but very little about how he has turned out.

Whether it's because or in spite of us, Zach has a bright future, and we're thankful that we're along for this ride with him.  I wouldn't want to be on any other team than his.

To Thine Own Self Be True

Perfectionism has always been my downfall.  Although I may have hundreds of great ideas, I can't seem to get over the first hurdle of acting on those thoughts for fear of not carrying out my plans to the extent I see them in my mind.  Since I began my blog a couple of years ago, I thought it would be a great way for my friends and family to keep up with what is going on with my husband, my kids and me.  I pictured it replacing that long and exhaustive newsletter that Scott and I produced at the end of every year and stuffed in the envelope with our kids' Christmas photo.

Yet, I've allowed my personal blog to become shaped and re-configured by what I thought a blog should be, and I've lost sight of why I started it in the first place.  My writing (and I) became a slave to what I thought would be read -- and as a result, what would garner the attention of sponsors.  My blog became a sad product of my own selfish marketing, and with that "perfect" post stuck permanently in my head, I found myself in writer's purgatory.  I was beyond writer's block -- that was not the problem.  I had a thousand ideas for posts -- funny ones, sad ones, inspirational ones, helpful ones.  I just couldn't get them out of my stinking head and onto the page.

Plus, it's spring.  I say this every year, and I sound like an accountant when I do.  Yet, it's my "busy time of year."  My schedule and the kids' schedules are packed to the brim, and any spare moment, we want to be outside.  Sitting at a desk writing doesn't seem nearly as fun as watching a spontaneous game of kickball in my front yard.

So, when I decided I was going to write the most imperfect and incredibly LONG post (according to the "authorities") I could, I thought about Shakespeare's quote, "To Thine Own Self Be True."  I needed to stop thinking about writing for anyone else but myself...and be true to who I am.  After all, writing by nature is a selfish art form.  It's the written version of one's own thoughts and ideas.  (Right, Ray?)

Then, before I got too introspective, I started giggling thinking of my first exposure to Hamlet was on Gilligan's Island.  And then, I started crying thinking of those countless afternoons when my brother and I would be alone for a couple of hours after school -- eating Little Debbies, watching reruns of TV shows from the 60s and 70s and supposedly doing our homework or chores before Mom and Dad came home from work.  (It'll make sense why I cried about my brother and Gilligan's Island when you read further down.)

That has to be the most accurate picture of my current state of mind at the moment --  laughing and crying simultaneously.  But before you male readers start jumping to conclusions based on my female chemistry, I thought I would enlighten you with a few updates to get you up to speed on what's been going on and to provide a springboard for future (imperfect) posts:

"Be A Stump, Zach!" 
My oldest offspring is a 6'2" 275-lb. high school junior who is being recruited as a Center to play at the next level.  Scott and I have been trading off duties as his manager of sorts taking him to combines (more on that for another post), talking to coaches and recruiters, signing him up for prospect camps and readying him for the ACT.  Picture a less sparkly, brunette version of Leanne Touhy from The Blindside accompanied by a smaller, white version of Michael Oher, and you've got a pretty clear image of Zach and me at these football recruiting events.

The irony and humor of it all is to see this offensive linemen walk into these arenas with a ballet teacher for a mom who has no idea how to inspire him on what he's about to face.  The best advice I could come up with was, "Be a stump, Zach!"  To which he replied, "Huh?"  I said, "Be a stump...stubborn and hard to move."  It must've struck a chord with him because I watched as my comparatively smaller son picked off each of his opponents in one-on-one's and subsequently was recognized as one of the top six linemen.  We have a long way to go and a lot to learn in this process, but we're taking much joy in watching our son possibly realizing his dream of playing college football.

Crimson Tales
Marley does not have the corner on being a bad dog.  He's got some serious competition with my 2 1/2-year old Samoyed named Crimson.  One of the reasons we decided on this breed is because our friends had one who seemed so calm, loyal and majestic sitting on their lawn waiting for her owner's return.  We sought the breeder from whom Scout was purchased, and we (well...Scott and Caroline) made the long trek to Tennessee to pick up our gorgeous puppy.  In the South, we have lots of less offensive phrases for insults, and for Crimson, she's best summed up by saying that, "She's a mess!"

This dog -- with two Invisible Fence collars fully charged and on the highest level -- will take a shock in pursuit of a squirrel, cat or another worthy adversary.  She has been "lost" so many times that a random man riding his bike in my neighborhood screamed out to me, "She's gone again?!" as I ran out on to the street yelling her name.  On her last jaunt, she was picked up by a passerby and taken to the only vet clinic in our community which I didn't canvass in the three days she was missing.  (Yes, three days!)  As soon as I finish paying for her resort stay, her new ID tags, collars and her follow-up vet bill, she will be micro-chipped...and maybe even branded!  (I'm kidding...maybe.)

Rah, Rah....Rah, Rah, Rah!
It would make more sense to say that I'm living any other Lady Gaga lyric than this one, but true to God's mysterious ways, I now have a cheerleader under my roof.  As a life-long dancer, I have to admit that we studio types tend to look down on cheerleaders.  Not that I don't like them.  They intrigue me at ball games with their perky demeanor, and they definitely have an artsy slant to their "sport."  Yet, after one unsuccessful attempt in the sixth grade by my only daughter, I was secretly glad that we dodged that bullet and moved on from the desire to carry pom-poms.  (Which, by the way, they're simply called "poms" now.  When did that change?)

Then, on a non-descript day in March, Caroline was approached with the idea of trying out for Junior Varsity Cheerleader to which she floored me by decidedly answering with a perky, "Yes!"  And although it was a roller-coaster ride of emotions throughout the try-out process for my already hormonally unsteady teenaged daughter...she now is a pom-carrying, ribbon-wearing cheerleader.  We're only a month into it, and I'm already amazed at the time and financial commitment it takes on the part of the student as well as the parents.  Yet, I've never seen her work harder or more enthusiastically at something.  Without prompting, she does what it takes, and she doesn't complain about bruises from stunts or sore muscles from conditioning.  This 'ol crusty ballet teacher has definitely had to eat crow and admit that my daughter is not me and that cheering is worthy of my respect.  (There...I said it.  I will not repeat myself.)

Running Nowhere Fast
About two years ago, I started running.  I used to hate running and gave the excuse that I was a dancer and already abusive to my knees.  However, almost as a dare, I started to run a mile at a time...then, two...and before I knew it, I signed up to run a 5K at my happy place (Walt Disney World).  I was hooked after that and immediately began training for Disney's Princess Half Marathon in February 2011.  After I ran my first half, I continued to run but found that I had plateaued with my goals.  I had no desire (nor the time) to train for a full marathon, and I wanted to mix up my workout routine anyway.  I started training at the workout facility where my children went for sports training called D1.  I was completely intimidated by the adult boot camp but decided to suck up my pride and give it a try.  I have met such wonderful, encouraging (non-judgmental) people there, but I started slacking off on my running as a result.

The time came around to sign up for the Princess Half again, and I convinced my daughter, her friend and her friend's mother to run it with me.  We had an amazing mother-daughter weekend at the parks and at the race.  However, as a result of my lack of gradual long-distance training -- together with teaching ballet all day in shoes with no support whatsoever -- I developed plantar fasciitis, an inflammation of the connective tissue on the sole of the foot.  Ouch!  Slowly, I'm recuperating from it.  Going to physical therapy -- which hurts.  Icing my foot.  Wearing inserts in my running shoes.  Stretching and limiting my wearing of impractical shoes.  Yet, my progress keeps me from running more than a couple of miles at a time -- which in turn, makes me grumpy.  I've even been known to look at runners on the side of the road with such jealousy that it makes me want to swerve my car in their direction.  My foot is such a nagging reminder that I can't do the one thing that keeps me somewhat sane in my insane world.  Because when people inevitably ask me why I run, my reply is the always the same.  I don't run....I run away, and most of the time, I come back.  (I guess I shouldn't be so hard on Crimson.)

Basketball, Baseball...Becoming More Than Just The Off-Season Sports
I told you I love football, right?  I'm the kind of person that gets irritated when they start advertising exhibition basketball games in the fall, and I secretly am saddened by the fact that fans of basketball and baseball teams get opportunities to see their guys play more than once a week.  I do like to watch my kids play basketball and baseball games, and since I have more than one son, you probably realize that more than one sport is played and followed at my house.

Although all my boys have played/tried almost every sport imaginable, William has a particular affinity for basketball while Harrison is my baseball player.  It doesn't mean that these sports "love" them back...we're still holding our breath as William is trying out for his middle school's team and as Harrison is begging us to play more baseball throughout the summer.  Call us old fashioned or behind the curve, but we encourage our kids to try it all and not to worry about specializing until high school.  Of course, we seem to be in the minority since many of the kids our children are competing against have employed private coaches in their chosen sports for years.  We may be raising Jacks of All Trades, Masters of None -- but at least they'll be qualified to become TV sports analysts, I guess.

Another Battle For My Warrior
My dad's favorite saying as my brother and I claimed that something in life wasn't fair was, "Fair?  You want fair?  I'll give you fair!"  And it's all I can think about when I learned that Al's leukemia had returned after only a few months of a clear bone marrow biopsy.  As an Army helicopter pilot for many years, he has endured much on battlefields -- senseless acts of cruelty, inhumane conditions and much, much loss.  So, I foolishly believed that he had a "bye."  It seemed fair to me that he had done his hardship assignments, and he should be spared any sort of medical conditions.  After all, my mom and dad had survived enough medical adversity for the entire family, and my brother was the picture of a strong, healthy 40-something man with a new wife and newborn baby.  Statistically as well as logically, my brother should have been in the clear.  Yet, with his diagnosis of leukemia last year, what seemed fair and what was fair became completely garbled for me.

Now, that he stands on the threshold of yet another battle, I can't help but worry about my wounded warrior.  He faces an inevitable bone marrow transplant after relentless rounds of more chemotherapy, and my hope (as his only sibling) would be that I'm his perfect genetic match.  Now, wouldn't that be a kick in the pants -- for your little sister to be the one who could get you out of a tight spot?  (I must forget about the time he rubbed garbage in my face.)  What an honor it would be to help rescue my hero.


As imperfect and incredibly long as it is, these are the utterings of my heart at the moment.  If you pursued to the end, I wish I could give you a medal or a prize.  I'm sure it was painful, but at least, it gets me over the hurdle of getting something...anything, down...be it ever so short of perfection.  And now, as I update, I can just refer back to this jumping off point where I realized that worthiness lies in the effort.

Keeping Photography Simple With the HTC Rhyme Phone

 

A picture may be worth a thousand words, but I'd rather write two thousand than worry with photography.  I'm an old-school journalist, and I was taught to provide that first-hand, sensory experience -- trusting that an award-winning photographer was by my side to capture the necessary images.  Recently, I was provided an HTC Rhyme Phone to test the photo capabilities while on a preview cruise for the new Disney Fantasy cruise ship, and truly, the phone/camera even impressed this skeptical, reluctant and somewhat lazy "photo-journalist."

For me, I want to have a streamlined experience without the bother of complexities while taking photos in order to tell my stories.  Yet, I do like to stay connected, and I am addicted to my smartphone. I like a stream-lined, easy-to-use and easily transported camera -- with just the right amount of bells and whistles.  

Juggling various electronic devices while I travel and then trying to figure out later whether I captured a story on my smartphone, my point-and-shoot, my video camera or my "good" camera drives me crazy.

Plus, as a mom of four, I'm usually managing a thousand other tasks while simultaneously thinking of my readers later and how I will convey my message.  I don't need a complicated device to further the intensity of capturing the moment.

 

While on the TravelingMom.com Retreat aboard the Disney Fantasy, I managed to play with the HTC Rhyme Phone and experience a fair amount of success with not only chronicling my time on board but actually using a bit of creativity when taking the photos.

There are several features on the camera/phone which allow the user to take action shots (which would come in handy at sports and performance events), change the settings and shutter speed (remember what that is from photography classes?) and even take a panoramic shot with ease.

Of course, I haven't used the device as a phone or really explored its other features, but as a comparable substitute for a nice point-and-shoot camera, I would recommend it.  It certainly would serve to simplify my carry-on bag when traveling.  I will say that it does take some getting used to as far as accessing the camera features, and if you're an iPhone user (like I am), the ease of connecting and immediately downloading photos from your device may cause you some disdain.

For this review, I was provided the HTC Rhyme Phone for a limited time and was compensated for my time and effort for the review.  I was provided the 3-night preview cruise on board the new Disney Fantasy by TravelingMom.com and Disney Cruise Line, but as always, my opinions and recommendations were not influenced by any compensation I received.  I am what I am, and it is what it is.

Meet My Fairy Godsistah...Brittney "B" Smith

Everybody needs a little help now and then, right?  Even Disney Princesses in all their regal glory had someone to give them the resources needed to make things happen.  As a Disney Moms Panelist, you might think I don't need someone helping me plan trips and vacations to Disney resorts, parks, ships and destinations.  Yet, my buddy B is who helps me (and my family and friends) navigate through all those decisions when planning a pixie-dusted journey.  Plus, she's the one who also waits on the phone for reservations freeing you up for the really fun stuff...like packing!

Brittney "B" Smith is with Main Street Memories, and you can find her right here on my blog (look to the left), on Facebook (My Main Street Memories) or on Twitter (@iplandisney).  She's a wife, mother, runner, community volunteer and a BFF to countless.  She's resourceful, kind, compassionate, a straight shooter and loves her God with all her heart.  Her enthusiasm is infectious, and she even makes the tedious plans so much fun.  Of course, B does it all with her adorable Southern accent.  So, you see...she's too cute to be my fairy godmother -- so she's my fairy god-sistah!

VisitOrlando and Disney Fantasy Cruise: A Surf & Turf Spring Break

 

For the past two years as a member of the Walt Disney World Moms Panel, I'll have to admit...I was great at planning others' magical vacations, but I kinda grew lazy with my own.   You see, there was a Disney team who planned the details when my family and I were traveling for Mickey.  So, I just waited until my itinerary was sent to me.  (Kinda sounds fantastical now that I think about it!)

Yet now that I'm taking a break from answering questions on DisneyWorldMoms.com -- I'm in charge of the family's trip plans, and I sort of let spring break slip up on me this year.

Disney Fantasy

Fortunately, as a travel writer and a member of the TravelingMom.com network, I'm still afforded the opportunity to preview the new Disney Fantasy cruise ship this spring with the media.  You can follow me on Facebook (Andi Campbell Sims) or on Twitter (@AndiAnswers) to get updates on my preview cruise, or stay tuned here or on TravelingMom.com for trip reports.)

Although my family can't join me on this voyage, they'll be with me the week prior as guests of VisitOrlando -- the official source for Orlando travel planning.  Working with an area resort and several theme parks, the fine folks at VisitOrlando planned our spring break for us this year and invited us to see what Orlando has to offer outside of our pixie-dusted paradise, including:

Coco Key Hotel & Waterpark

Busch Gardens -- Tampa Bay

Gatorland

Universal Studios Orlando and Islands of Adventure

Of course, for our family, we simply can not truly VisitOrlando without popping in our very favorite characters at Walt Disney World.  So we'll stay at Animal Kingdom Lodge (an amazing destination all its own on Disney property) for one night and park hop between Animal Kingdom and Hollywood Studios before I leave for Port Canaveral and my family treks to Florida's beautiful Gulf Coast.

What are your favorite destinations in and around the Orlando area?  What are your must-do's while in Central Florida?  Stay tuned on Facebook, Twitter, on TravelingMom.com and here to see what we saw and did for our spring break and let me know in the comments below what you suggest or would like to see.

Disney's Princess Half Marathon Makes for Great Mother-Daughter Trip

The Costume: Sweaty Moms Running Club shirt and tu-tu -- I opted for the light pink this year!

With Teresa at the Fit for a Princess Expo to pick up our race packets.

Caroline and Macy on the ferry to the Magic Kingdom

This was Macy's first trip to Walt Disney World in about a decade...it was Caroline's first trip in 2012!

Ready to run my second Princess Half Marathon at 3 o'clock in the blessed A.M.!

The Homewood Princesses making their regal appearance in front of the "throne rooms!"

Such a miracle to "find" Karen Connor and run the last 3 miles with her -- her first 1/2!

Love my B!  She's MY Disney Travel Planner, definitely a Disney Princess and a Coast-to-Coast Medal Winner, too!

Reunited with fellow TravelingMom.com blogger, Lorraine Robertson, at the finish line -- notice my stash of snacks!