What sorts of fools take their five year old to Disney World during the heat wave that won the global-warming showcase of 2012?
We do against all odds, and despite the small detail that our child has a serious mascot/Santa/ Easter Bunny phobia that has never been entirely worked through. The one time she sat on Santa’s lap, we both had to go with her. Not to mention the fact I am a stepmother, and Walt Disney has a serious (unresolved) stepmother issue.
See, Gregory is off for the first week of July and because he indulges Magic in our children, he thinks about stuff like showing them wondrous sights during his break. So he walked up, all casual, this winter and said, “I’ve told Asha she can have breakfast with a princess at Disneyworld, and I’ll bring her. Want to go?”
Blackmail shouldn’t be an effective negotiation tool, but he’d gone and promised her a pancake breakfast with a princess and an introduction to Mickey He did it knowing I wouldn’t miss that trip for the world even if I hated it. I sighed.
“No, and you don’t want that, either.” I said recalling the trip we made with the eldest. “Remember we almost died of malnutrition and heat stroke when we went to Disney last time?”
“I remember. But they say it’s much better now.” He said, calm as ever.
I said, “Whoever “They” is”, but lost the negotiations anyway. Disney trumps nearly everything.
I can now admit that I was the Debbie Downer of vacation planning on this one. For all his reading of brochures and websites aloud to get me interested, I could only think of reasons why Disneyworld might kill us.
What can I say, other than we bicker from opposing backgrounds? His parents drove their kids to Disneyworld to spend a summer vacation. My parents drove us past Disneyland to let us see the signs, then sent us to the pool at our hotel in Burbank for fun. It adds balance to our current household. I am the No Drama Mama, to his Magic Man.
So Gregory, his little fairy princess, and their Evil Stepmother went to Disneyworld. God bless us, every one.
I learned a lot on our trip and want to share some tips, in case you’re also an Evil stepmother can’t-stand-the-heat-and-can’t-avoid-the-kitchen fool.
1) Make the trip a surprise. This lets you steer clear of talking about the trip every moment of every day before you leave home. Plus, you get to watch the kid’s face when she understands that she’s about to get on a plane to travel to Disney World. Right now. Not only that, but you get to watch her lay her face on the table next to her cereal bowl, hands outstretched in rapture, while she whisper moans,
“THANK YOU. MY BELOVED. PARENTS.”
2) Cover your Assets. Get a tankini. With a skirt. You’ll need it when you are chasing around the pool with your little person, who is going to need some swim time once the dehydrated hallucinations set in. First, the non-evil moms are going to stare at the tattoos that still cling to your torso from your misspent youth and your big behind. Then, they will consider you seriously dangerous. Finally they won’t want their kids to play with yours. Just trust me on this one.
3) Respect the game. All of the staff, or “Cast” as they refer to themselves, will call your girl Princess. Let ‘em. She likes it. She might like it more because you hate it. That’ll have to be something you discuss once she’s grown. But, when The Little Mermaid tells your kid she loves her curly hair, that child’s self esteem will rocket about seventeen hundred notches, which is what you wanted, anyway.
4) Relax and let those Disney folks take care of you. It’s what they do.
- Ride their busses to and from the parks,
- Let them turn down your sheets, and make little shapes out of your fresh towels,
- Use the big Mickey Mouse insulated cup for free refills all over the resort,
- Eat the healthy food; they made that for you because they knew you were coming
super cool health food note: There is an entirely gluten free bakery in Downtown Disney!Enjoy. The Cast wants to see evil people happy, too.
Just remember where you parked your car at the airport, because no one is going to drop you off at home. Or fix your supper. Or do the laundry.
So I got my Magic in last week, against my better judgment. Not only did it not kill me, I liked it.