posted in Mom Stories
When we planned our Disney World vacation last month, I had our week down to a science. I knew which park we would go to each day, where we would have dinner at night and the sequential order of the attractions we would visit. I am a planner so this was really part of the fun for me. I love the anticipation of a trip almost as much as the actual trip. That said, I may have a tendency to go a bit overboard.
I decided to save our excursion to the Magic Kingdom for the last day. The grand finale, if you will. We would go out in a blaze of glory singing “It’s a small world” for 12 hours in the van all the way back home to North Carolina. In my dreams.
What I didn’t consider was how unbelievably tired we would all be on the last day. I didn’t consider that it might rain or that I would come down with a raging UTI.
I definitely didn’t think that our coveted family picture in front of Cinderella’s Castle would look like this.
Oh yeah people. This is what magical memories are made of.
I was having a miserable time and really disappointed in myself for “ruining vacation” with this horrible plan. And then Calvin pooped all over the place. And I mean everywhere. He required a completely new outfit which meant he couldn’t even wear his Mickey shirt anymore (the horror). I cried uncle and we decided to have lunch.
For a couple minutes things started looking up. We had a delicious meal and were enjoying the music when in total randomly NON magical fashion, I leaned over to get something off the floor and gave myself a black eye by banging my head on the chair next to me.
This is when my husband started laughing.
After a good cry in the bathroom, I decided that something had to give. It was already noon and our magic was dying. I knew that the only way to turn things around would be to scream my head off on Space Mountain.
I knew what I had to do.
Having been born and raised in Florida, I was no stranger to Space Mountain. But I haven’t been on the ride in probably 15 years so I had no idea what to expect anymore. I had initially planned to just scream the whole time to relieve stress, but what ended up happening was an outburst of pure adrenaline. It was exactly what I needed. I gave up and relented to the day instead of trying to control it.
The rest of our day was incredible. It was fun. It was magical.
As parents, we have these days far more often then we would care to admit. We like to create the picture perfect memories to stuff in our photo albums and make us feel like we are getting it right. But in 3.5 years of parenting I have found that the best way to get it right is to do it all wrong.
And sometimes you just need a good scream.
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