Next to them, the river currents moved lazily, pushing picturesque pieces of Spanish moss and other flora and fauna on their way. The clouds, stark white against the cornflower sky meandered, taking on the shapes of dragons and castles. Up the river, a quaint white pontoon boat with bright blue stripes and the name "Louisiana Lady" across its bow, made its way to the tree-lined shore where eager passengers awaited. It was a scene straight out of a movie, a scene only Disney could engineer in reality. And then we saw them. The mother walked quickly ahead, taking three steps for her daughter's one. She pulled the child along by the hand, shaking her head. "I can't believe we're at the happiest place on Earth, and you're going to be sour..." she said as they passed, the girl hanging her head, indeed a sour expression on her face.
And there folks, is the true Disney experience. Behind every fairytale scene is a stressed out Mom or Dad and child either on the verge of or in the midst of a full-fledged breakdown. Now don't get me wrong. I love Disneyworld. In fact, I might even classify myself as a full-fledged Disneyofile now. The old Jennifer who would scoff at people spending their vacation with The Mouse, is now wondering when she can convince her husband to go back. However, traveling to Disneyworld for the first time with my own child definitely gave me a new perspective.
I began to notice more and more families on the verge of breakdowns--we were one of them. The first morning at breakfast, amid the loud, chaotic French Quarter food court, the room went silent for a second when the words, "I told you to sit down and eat your breakfast" echoed across the room. I, too, turned around only to find a frazzled mother looking up in embarrassment when realizing just how loud her admonishment had been. Wow, I thought. At only 9 in the morning, I couldn't imagine how stressful the rest of their day would be.
Later that night, I watched in guilty amusement as a father grabbed his too-hyper for 10pm munchkin by the arm, saying just audibly, "If you run away from me again, you're going to get a spankin."
Everywhere I looked, I saw kids with eyes wide open--they could hardly sit still. Hyped up on too much sugar from cupcakes, candy, and soda, it's no wonder. At breakfast, I had to laugh when a mother and her daughters sat down to a healthy breakfast of oatmeal and a huge cupcake with blue icing and Mickey mouse sprinkles.
Another day at breakfast, I stood in line next to a lovely British lady ordering food for her husband and three children. After battling with the tween son over what he wanted to eat, she looked at him and said a little too sweetly, in a delightful accent, "If you keep it up, I'm going to get quite cross with you."
While I found amusement in watching these families struggle with the stresses of Disney, we had a few stresses of our own. First, our little sweetie had a bit of a meltdown while dining with the Disney princesses at the Norwegian castle. Though she loved Belle and tolerated Sleeping Beauty, she lost it with Cinderella. As the charming princess in full blue ballgown kneeled down next to Luce, she hauled off and smacked her in the face. "Ohhh" the princess exclaimed. I was mortified. "I'm so sorry," I said. In true form, Cinderella just smiled, every bit the quintessential princess, "Oh, it's all right. Really, it is..."
The next day was worse.
And there folks, is the true Disney experience. Behind every fairytale scene is a stressed out Mom or Dad and child either on the verge of or in the midst of a full-fledged breakdown. Now don't get me wrong. I love Disneyworld. In fact, I might even classify myself as a full-fledged Disneyofile now. The old Jennifer who would scoff at people spending their vacation with The Mouse, is now wondering when she can convince her husband to go back. However, traveling to Disneyworld for the first time with my own child definitely gave me a new perspective.
I began to notice more and more families on the verge of breakdowns--we were one of them. The first morning at breakfast, amid the loud, chaotic French Quarter food court, the room went silent for a second when the words, "I told you to sit down and eat your breakfast" echoed across the room. I, too, turned around only to find a frazzled mother looking up in embarrassment when realizing just how loud her admonishment had been. Wow, I thought. At only 9 in the morning, I couldn't imagine how stressful the rest of their day would be.
Later that night, I watched in guilty amusement as a father grabbed his too-hyper for 10pm munchkin by the arm, saying just audibly, "If you run away from me again, you're going to get a spankin."
Everywhere I looked, I saw kids with eyes wide open--they could hardly sit still. Hyped up on too much sugar from cupcakes, candy, and soda, it's no wonder. At breakfast, I had to laugh when a mother and her daughters sat down to a healthy breakfast of oatmeal and a huge cupcake with blue icing and Mickey mouse sprinkles.
Another day at breakfast, I stood in line next to a lovely British lady ordering food for her husband and three children. After battling with the tween son over what he wanted to eat, she looked at him and said a little too sweetly, in a delightful accent, "If you keep it up, I'm going to get quite cross with you."
While I found amusement in watching these families struggle with the stresses of Disney, we had a few stresses of our own. First, our little sweetie had a bit of a meltdown while dining with the Disney princesses at the Norwegian castle. Though she loved Belle and tolerated Sleeping Beauty, she lost it with Cinderella. As the charming princess in full blue ballgown kneeled down next to Luce, she hauled off and smacked her in the face. "Ohhh" the princess exclaimed. I was mortified. "I'm so sorry," I said. In true form, Cinderella just smiled, every bit the quintessential princess, "Oh, it's all right. Really, it is..."
The next day was worse.
Apparently, our little munchkin managed to scratch another little boy (8-years-old) across the face while attempting to grab his shirt. The result was an irate father who loudly proclaimed to Jamie, "You need to learn to control your kid!" For a moment, it looked as if there would be a good old-fashioned parking lot fist fight, but thankfully, the bus arrived at Epcot just in time.
By the end of the week, after witnessing countless breakdowns--most often at 3:00 p.m., the witching hour for kids at Disneyworld--and experiencing a few of our own (mine included), we found ourselves eating one final breakfast at the festive French Quarter food court. Weary from days of lugging around an overflowing diaper bag, drenched in sweat, I felt a bit deflated. I feared the Disney magic had worn off.
"Is she your only one?" I heard a voice ask. I looked up to find Miss Ethel, an elderly woman who worked the breakfast shift cleaning tables and sweeping up the crumb covered floors. She smiled at Lucy. I told her that yes Lucy was my only one, all the while thinking that after this trip, she most certainly would remain the ONLY one. "I'll be right back" she said.We waited for a few minutes before Miss Ethel returned. She brought a giant sugar cookie, a container of white icing, and some Mickey Mouse sprinkles. "This is for your little one. I hope she'll enjoy decorating her cookie. She's a doll."
Suddenly, the Disney magic returned. So what if our vacation had a few ups and downs? Overall, just like our last morning with the special surprise from Miss Ethel, our first trip to Disney as a family was perfect. And I'm pretty sure that Disneyworld really might be THE happiest place on earth.
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