ChaseTheWind
You are valued.
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2017
- Messages
- 84
Hello! I have spent most of my short time here on the boards lurking about, enjoying the chance to read everyone's well planned and even more wonderfully lived trips to the most magical place on Earth. In some ways I'm hoping to show my gratitude for the favor you didn't even know you paid me by sharing my story in return.
When I began planning this trip I really had no interest in this being a particularly special destination: even though I have a few fond memories of the trips I took there as a child, those memories mostly centered on being with my family. I was the odd combination of tomboy and fraidy-cat, which meant I cared for neither princesses nor roller coasters. I did care about the books I read on the long car rides down from Illinois, about who I'd have to share a bed with once we arrived at the hotel, and how often I could get a Mickey ice cream bar. I had no special attachment to this hot place in the middle of Florida.
Even the planning of this particular trip was punctuated with more than a bit of reluctance on my part. My mother and father in law are frequent visitors to Disney, and when our daughter R was born 3 years ago, I knew it was only a matter of time before we made the trip. I started off insisting she should be at least 5 before we visited, as I didn't want to "waste money" on "something she'd never remember." (Anybody ever heard that one before?!?)
But then.
R caught a virus.
The Disney Princess Obsession Virus (DPOV), to be exact. Living with a person suffering from DPOV, as some of you may know, is filled with challenges. I had no previous familiarity with its symptoms: repeated demands to watch Frozen, a keen need to don the simultaneously very beautiful and ridiculously itchy poofy Belle dress at all hours of the day, bouts of shouting "the Merida song! The Merida song! I want to listen to the Merida song!" upon entering any vehicle. Before long we had the movies, we had the dresses, we had the placemats and soundtracks and comforter sets. But you may well know that the only surefire cure for DPOV is a trip to Orlando. I couldn't let my little one suffer any longer: we needed that cure!
Evidence of another symptom of DPOV: the hugging and hoarding of all princess related toys:
So here we are, having just returned from a five day early spring break trip to R's happy place, and now, I can fully admit, my happy place too. "We" includes me - I'm happy to go by my name, Allison, my husband, B, my daughter, R (3). Here she is squeezing the life out of our necks after her first sighting of the castle.
The trip also included my mother- and father-in-law (K and D). It was so wonderful to have them along. Having eight hands to wrangle the kid felt like an absolute privilege. They were a big reason for my state of happiness throughout the trip.
Sharing our story way is of course a selfish way to prolong the trip for me, but I do hope that it's also one way of seeing through the eyes of someone who was prepared to be disappointed, to be let down, and who instead found joy at every turn of the trip. I hope that you find it interesting!
When I began planning this trip I really had no interest in this being a particularly special destination: even though I have a few fond memories of the trips I took there as a child, those memories mostly centered on being with my family. I was the odd combination of tomboy and fraidy-cat, which meant I cared for neither princesses nor roller coasters. I did care about the books I read on the long car rides down from Illinois, about who I'd have to share a bed with once we arrived at the hotel, and how often I could get a Mickey ice cream bar. I had no special attachment to this hot place in the middle of Florida.
Even the planning of this particular trip was punctuated with more than a bit of reluctance on my part. My mother and father in law are frequent visitors to Disney, and when our daughter R was born 3 years ago, I knew it was only a matter of time before we made the trip. I started off insisting she should be at least 5 before we visited, as I didn't want to "waste money" on "something she'd never remember." (Anybody ever heard that one before?!?)
But then.
R caught a virus.
The Disney Princess Obsession Virus (DPOV), to be exact. Living with a person suffering from DPOV, as some of you may know, is filled with challenges. I had no previous familiarity with its symptoms: repeated demands to watch Frozen, a keen need to don the simultaneously very beautiful and ridiculously itchy poofy Belle dress at all hours of the day, bouts of shouting "the Merida song! The Merida song! I want to listen to the Merida song!" upon entering any vehicle. Before long we had the movies, we had the dresses, we had the placemats and soundtracks and comforter sets. But you may well know that the only surefire cure for DPOV is a trip to Orlando. I couldn't let my little one suffer any longer: we needed that cure!
Evidence of another symptom of DPOV: the hugging and hoarding of all princess related toys:
So here we are, having just returned from a five day early spring break trip to R's happy place, and now, I can fully admit, my happy place too. "We" includes me - I'm happy to go by my name, Allison, my husband, B, my daughter, R (3). Here she is squeezing the life out of our necks after her first sighting of the castle.
The trip also included my mother- and father-in-law (K and D). It was so wonderful to have them along. Having eight hands to wrangle the kid felt like an absolute privilege. They were a big reason for my state of happiness throughout the trip.
Sharing our story way is of course a selfish way to prolong the trip for me, but I do hope that it's also one way of seeing through the eyes of someone who was prepared to be disappointed, to be let down, and who instead found joy at every turn of the trip. I hope that you find it interesting!