Everyone thought we were riding the CRAZY TRAIN straight to Anaheim when they heard we were taking our sleepless, tantrum-throwin' tot to Disneyland. And I couldn't blame em, it sounded crazy to me too. But here's the truth, we were never going to Disneyland for Parker's sake. Disney is a place Jordan and I have talked, planned and dreamed about visiting for five years now. One year, we even got so pathetically close as to staying in Santa Monica with a free day to fill, yet we couldn't afford park tickets to the real deal, so we went down the road to spend the day roaming around Knott's Berry Farm. Fun day? Yes. Did it fill the Mickey shaped hole in our hearts? Not a chance.
So when Jordan committed to attending a men's retreat in Santa Ana this winter, we knew it would be the perfect time for him and I to finally enjoy the thrill and the crazy of our happiest place on Earth. And our child? Well, he was just along for the ride. That lucky little son of a - - Disney fanatic.
Leading up to the trip, I researched like a crazy lady. Wrote lists. Bought new toys. Charged my camera. Packed snack attacks. Debated whether we'd rent or bring our own stroller. And as Jordan and I headed to the airport with an unhappy camper in tow, we hoped for the best and then set our standards really, really low.
What happened when we cautiously walked into the park on morning one of our two day Park Hopper adventure was nothing short of a miracle on 34th street.
Parker took one look at the waving Mickey-mitten welcomers who added to the joy, hustle and bustle of Main Street and immediately knew he had found his peeps. The people who could keep up with his endless energy and then some. Who always waved. Constantly smiled. Carried colorful cotton candy and bundles of Mickey-shaped balloons. The music. The sounds. The smells. The lights. The characters. The crowds. Our feet hadn't yet stepped off the bricks of Main Street yet our kid was already in love...home sweet home in the land of over stimulation.
As we headed towards the rides and mapped out our morning game plan, I received a text from my very thoughtful and always-cautious father. "Enjoy the day. And remember to go at an 18 month olds pace."
Little did my dad, or any of us for that matter, realize that Parker's pace would outlast us all. He rallied from open to close, riding the rides, waiting in the lines, shopping for new Tigger and Mickey hats, watching 3D shows, dancing with live shows, devouring popcorn, running through Toon Town, meeting the characters, and waving his way through two parades.
Prior to our trip, Parker had never watched any Mickey movies and was unfamiliar with all of the characters. We figured he'd be terrified to see the big guys in person, but holy holy, does that boy keep us guessing. Not only was he unafraid, meeting characters was the absolute highlight of Park's trip. That, and the Winnie the Pooh ride - which him, Eric and Mia [who earned sainthood status on this trip] must have gone on at least ten times.
It's been a few weeks since we've returned, and honestly I am still a bit baffled by how care free and magical our trip to Disneyland was. It was a dream come true for Jordan and I to finally visit the parks together, and seeing it through the eyes of our kiddo was just an added bonus!
I thought all kids loved this ride? After waiting in line for thirty minutes, only to discover Park's just not that into Dumbo, we caught our one Hallmark meltdown of the trip on camera. Classic.
Happiest parents in the happiest place.
