When you wish upon a star…
We are going to Disneyland. For months I have been itching to get away, to not be here doing the same thing every day. So, we are going to Disneyland. Aurelia and Matthew’s first Disneyland trip. Matthew’s first flight and his second birthday. A big family trip. We have been planning it for months. And now, here it is. And I am a hot fucking mess. Aurelia has some kind of cold. Her upper lip looks weird. She has a low grade fever. The day we leave, we start our day at 3:30 AM. Yes, you read that right. Because someone thought it would be a good idea to take the first flight out with two toddlers. I, obviously, didn’t have my thinking-cap on when I agreed to that.
I should be thinking about how she will jump and dance to the music on Main Street. Or how she’ll stand stock-still and confident, pointing at the castle and say, “CASTLE! That’s a castle!” Or how she’ll vice-grip Nick or I while hysterically crying as we take pictures with characters… or surprises me and not do that at all. Or how loud she’ll laugh while riding Tea Cups or Dumbo. Or how she’ll clap and scream at the parades.
Instead, I am thinking about how hard it will be to wrangle her on maybe 8 hours of sleep verses her normal 10. That she might pee all over me, like she did on our last flight. That I might dislocate her elbow again, randomly. That during a tantrum, she’ll bang her head so hard on concrete that she’ll knock herself out. That her low-grade fever/simple cold will turn into something else, and we’re rushing to find an urgent care or ER. That I’ll turn my head for two seconds while walking through Fantasyland and when I turn back, she’s disappeared.
I have refrained from dreaming up positive expectations because I would inevitably be setting myself up for complete disaster and bitter disappointment. However, I can dream up every imaginable negative possibility because they are totally conceivable, and swim in all that negativity until my extremities get wrinkly.
Let’s not even talk about how all this makes me feel sick to my stomach, which makes me worry that something is wrong with me, and what if I need urgent care while we are down there. And do I have a cold? If my shoulders get any tighter, they will become besties with my ears. And let’s glide over how already amped up I am to get into a fight with Nick because he will predictably not be paying attention when I need him most to be present.
What’s unfortunate about this is… this is my normal. And I hate it. I hate how I feel. I hate how it’s robbing me of excitement. Though, I find that anxiety and excitement are friendly neighbors; it is easy to look over the fence. I am trying to find the joy. I am trying to remember what it’s like to sit on a bench and people watch, while enjoying a churro. I am trying to remember the surge of adrenaline while riding Space Mountain. I am trying to remember how lucky it is that my family is even able to take a trip like this. Be grateful you can make experiences like this happen! Stop being weighed down by the “what ifs”. Whatever happens on this trip, happens. That is how you make memories. You are taking your daughter on an adventure, giving her a “first”. Please, for the love of God, don’t miss it.
the end?
I should be thinking about how she will jump and dance to the music on Main Street. Or how she’ll stand stock-still and confident, pointing at the castle and say, “CASTLE! That’s a castle!” Or how she’ll vice-grip Nick or I while hysterically crying as we take pictures with characters… or surprises me and not do that at all. Or how loud she’ll laugh while riding Tea Cups or Dumbo. Or how she’ll clap and scream at the parades.
Instead, I am thinking about how hard it will be to wrangle her on maybe 8 hours of sleep verses her normal 10. That she might pee all over me, like she did on our last flight. That I might dislocate her elbow again, randomly. That during a tantrum, she’ll bang her head so hard on concrete that she’ll knock herself out. That her low-grade fever/simple cold will turn into something else, and we’re rushing to find an urgent care or ER. That I’ll turn my head for two seconds while walking through Fantasyland and when I turn back, she’s disappeared.
I have refrained from dreaming up positive expectations because I would inevitably be setting myself up for complete disaster and bitter disappointment. However, I can dream up every imaginable negative possibility because they are totally conceivable, and swim in all that negativity until my extremities get wrinkly.
Let’s not even talk about how all this makes me feel sick to my stomach, which makes me worry that something is wrong with me, and what if I need urgent care while we are down there. And do I have a cold? If my shoulders get any tighter, they will become besties with my ears. And let’s glide over how already amped up I am to get into a fight with Nick because he will predictably not be paying attention when I need him most to be present.
What’s unfortunate about this is… this is my normal. And I hate it. I hate how I feel. I hate how it’s robbing me of excitement. Though, I find that anxiety and excitement are friendly neighbors; it is easy to look over the fence. I am trying to find the joy. I am trying to remember what it’s like to sit on a bench and people watch, while enjoying a churro. I am trying to remember the surge of adrenaline while riding Space Mountain. I am trying to remember how lucky it is that my family is even able to take a trip like this. Be grateful you can make experiences like this happen! Stop being weighed down by the “what ifs”. Whatever happens on this trip, happens. That is how you make memories. You are taking your daughter on an adventure, giving her a “first”. Please, for the love of God, don’t miss it.
the end?