So when I got outside, DS was having a full on meltdown. And we couldn't even tell over what. I asked DH, and he didn't know. We couldn't even understand him, that's how bad it was. Oh boy. Being that it was close to 11, we though to try and throw some food his way. Maybe he was hungry, who could say?
We headed over to The Land, knowing we'd at least have some selection. So DH runs interference (keeps DS away from the bakery case and candy) and I go to select the food. And it's not like what I picked was exactly healthy, folks. But for some reason, practically everything today was going to be a struggle.
I got the boy French Toast. And getting him to eat it, even loaded with syrup, was no mean feat. He finished one slice, had some bacon, and was done. I know that little booger was holding out for something "better." Well, he wasn't getting it. French Toast is a nice junky breakfast as far as I'm concerned. But then the couple next to us sat down with a huge slice of cake. He saw it, and wanted cake. Or a doughnut, or other crap. Yes, I used the word crap. That's how mad this made me. I was starting to lose it and it was showing. I honestly don't remember what I was saying other than "this is ridiculous."
I was having a moment. A long one. And silently cursing my parents who spoil the crap out of him, and feed him all kinds of junk. All I could think of was when they took him to the zoo recently and got him a bag of Cheetos for lunch. And then McDonald's on the way home. Now I'm not opposed to either of those things, persay, but their overindulgence has caused me to have to be the polar opposite in our home. Meaning that there is no junk here. Maybe a box of Fruit Loops if you're lucky. That's. It. Which of course, results in a huge consistency issue, meaning at my parent's he gets to have fun crap, and at home, no.
And in that moment, I remembered how much I want to be home with him. How even though my parents love him, and I'm so grateful for all they do for him, and us, that they do not always do what's best on the nutrition forefront, which totally leads to other behavioral issues.
In short, the real world was creeping in. Into my Disney bubble. Now I didn't expect everything to be perfect on vacation, but I certainly wasn't anticipating massive parenting struggles, especially all in one day. I felt awful. I was wearing down. We "finished" breakfast, i.e., DH and I ate, and then somehow after a bit of walking around, we got or DS became interested in the environmental fable with Timon, Pumba, and Simba.
I immediately thought of Jiri. And what I was in store for. But I was truly intrigued. Because this was something we'd never done before, and would be new to the three of us, so I was game. DS seemed like he was calming down, and happy for what we were about to do. And then, as we were waiting, he uttered words that made me jump into action.
"Mama, I need to poop."
Well did we ever book it to the nearest restroom, which was so near, but over by the Garden Grill. He was very concerned that we would miss the show, but we did our business and made it back in time. And he enjoyed it! Phew. Can I breathe yet?
So next we coaxed him over to Nemo, where he loved the seagulls. "Mine, mine, mine." Now, we have a little Spiderman action figure, actually he's more like a
Lego type figure, but biggger. So, DS was "showing" Spiderman the seagulls. Hmm...this could work to our advantage. In all fairness, I believe it was my husband's idea to show Spiderman things. I knew I married him for a reason, this concept became a godsend.
So now, we were going to show Spiderman the Nemo ride, and the queue is very dark. At which point, DS starts saying, "Don't be scared Spiderman...don't be shy, Spiderman." Well if that's not an insight into a three year old's world, I don't know what is. So we told Spiderman there was no reason to be scared, and pointed out some neat things along the way. The ride went well, and I got my first glimpse of DS' amazed face. The face that he would use for almost every single ride, a face so filled with awe and wonder I wish I could capture it, bottle it, and keep it with me forever. Half the time on rides or at shows, I would watch him instead of the ride. Because that face is priceless, friends, and it doesn't last forever.
Afterwards we checked out the aquarium for a bit, which was fun.
And then it happened.
As we were leaving.
BOOM!!!!
DS discovered the dump shop. And the huge display of candy. And when told he couldn't have any, he had a bloody fit! I would like to point out to all of you that this is so not my son. This is the boy who went with me to the Dollar Tree yesterday and was told he could pick one toy. He tried to pick up candy, and when I told him no, he put it back. No fighting, whining, fussing, just listened to me and put it back.
Who was this wailing three year old pitching a hysterical fit in the middle of Disney World? In the middle of Epcot, in the middle of the vacation I had worked so hard to plan?
My DH had to literally carry DS out kicking and screaming.
We were "those" parents.
We got our stroller and he was still crying and just would not calm down. I could feel the already frayed edges of my sanity slowly unraveling. This wasn't what I had pictured, this level of tantrums from my normally well behaved boy. I remember thinking who are you and what have you done with my child?
Lack of sleep has adverse affects on more than just me, I guess.
So we kept walking, and I was angry. And you could tell. And DH was trying to calm me down and I didn't want to talk. I wanted to be angry because it hurt. Everything I was thinking, all the angst I'd had before the trip had welled up into this moment. We stopped over by the lagoon.
BOOM!!!
Except it wasn't DS. It was me. And it wasn't out loud. It was internal. A totally internal snapping of something vital. Something inside me just broke. Thank goodness for dark sunglasses. I cried. Not big, not loud, not even audible. Just a quiet, silent cry, looking over the World Showcase lagoon.
And in that time, DH managed to get DS calmed down, got him a granola bar from the backpack, and they were watching/feeding the ducks together while DS ate/shared the granola bar. So I let it out, and felt better. DH and I had some words, and I just said, "I worked so hard for this and I didn't expect it to be perfect, but I didn't expect it to be like this." I think he got it. We're both a little bitter about our current situation, and we didn't expect to have to face it head on this vacation. But that's the thing. No matter how happy the happy place, you're still you. And you can't escape that.
Up next - Do I ever stop looking at the boy like he's a time bomb?
In my defense, they were rides I knew he'd like, he was just being a stinker! Perhaps I reveal too much. 
