So, you know how things don’t always go as you plan—especially when you have a 3-year-old?
Well, here’s the latest installment in that series: I’ve been dying to take my son to Disney, and since I’m nearly 7 months pregnant, we’ve got a very small window in which I can still fly…and then a very big window in which I’m sure I won’t want to travel with two small kids.
My son loves Mickey, he loves princesses and princes, he loves the castle and the fireworks that are featured at the beginning of every Disney movie, and he loves rides and having fun. I figured that Disney would be a no-brainer.
Plus, I’ve been a little stressed about my golden child not being the only one anymore. Come August, his life will be undergoing a major overhaul and his solo time with me will be drastically decreased. Of course I have all sorts of plans to make sure he still feels special, but let’s face it: He’s going to be sharing me with a very needy newborn. And those first three months? Who am I kidding? I’m going to be lucky if we stumble to the park, with a baby strapped to me, let alone do anything fabulous.
So…Disney. It’ll be our last big hurrah together, a babymoon for the three of us. Plus, I’m celebrating a big birthday soon (29 again, of course!) and Mother’s Day is coming up. Honestly, this was what I wanted to do to celebrate all of that.
Now, I’m a big believer in prepping kids for big things—talking it through, reading books and so on. I’ve found that it leads to a much smoother ride through whatever process we’re navigating. I’ve also realized that 3-year-olds don’t follow the scripts I’ve written in my heads (damn kids), and all joking aside, I learned even before having a kid that those mental scripts that I’m so fond of making are a recipe for disappointment.
Also, a surprise is a surprise whenever you mention it, right? Right.
So, the other morning (the morning after we booked it), we decided to spring it on the kiddo.
My husband started with: “Guess what—we’re going to Disney World!”
The response? “I don’t want to see Mickey!”
Um, what? My husband and I just stood there, frozen in place, mouths open in a perma-smile, unsure of how to proceed.
And then again: “I don’t want to see Mickey! He’s scary!”
Really, kid? You would watch The Mickey Mouse Clubhouse all day long if I let you, and you suddenly think that Mickey is scary? You get a severe case of the giggles when I pop out at you from behind a door for a safe scare, and you think that Mickey is scary? You’ve begged me to let you watch the movie at the planetarium in the pitch black and on the vibrating seats that’s meant for the over-4 set since you were 2, and you think that Mickey is scary?
I blame the Easter Bunny. When we saw two live Easter Bunnies (read: people in creepy costumes) at Easter lunch a few weeks ago, my poor kid literally hid under the table. Those big mascot things are…unnatural. And now poor Mickey is being lumped in with them.
Well, I have a little time to work on this. We are going to talk about it. We are going to read books. We are going to watch videos on You Tube. We are going to…oh, God, what are we going to do if he freaks out at the happiest place on Earth?
Stay tuned…and please send me your suggestions on how I can help him overcome this new phobia!