Kids Are At Disney

My children are at Disney. 

I debated on even telling anyone at all, other than their teachers—but Thomas kind of did that for me when he told his friends at school...at church....the lady at McDonalds, the bus driver.... you get the idea.

You see, Gracie has dreamed of Disney since she was about 4. 

I was hoping the princesses were just a phase, but Princesses lead to new princesses and then to Star Wars; and Disney Trivia led to books on Disney and Disney YouTube channels.

And a few years ago, she announced that she wanted to be a Disney Imagineer when she grew up.  In fact, we have already chosen her high school courses and she is charging her way forward to an engineering based curriculum and engineering goals.

Going to Disney has been her dream for so long—and now she is there. 

I didn’t make that dream come true, and neither did her father. 

The biggest thing our child has ever wanted, and we failed at achieving that for her for almost a decade.

Two years ago, in yet another Disney based argument (we have had many, many emotional arguments over this unrealized dream), she told her father and I “if you really wanted to, you could save the money and take us. How hard is it to put some money aside?!!”

She was angry, and I would have thought that I would have felt the cascade of guilt that I usually feel when she brings up the fact that we promised her we would take her some day and we never have. But, I felt more angry than anything else. 

Did she not have a clue about how hard her father works so that I can stay home and raise her and her brothers?! Does she not see that we stretch every dollar we have to make the comfortable life she has?!! Does she not know how many times I have cried over things and experiences and safety nets that we can’t provide that our friends and other family members can provide for their kids?! Doesn’t she realize what we give up for her?!

In my head I know she was just an angry hormonal almost teenager who had come back from her favorite Disney partner in hope—but in my heart she was telling me that I wasn’t a good enough parent.

And, when she boarded an airplane with her brother and her grandparents on Sunday, there wasn’t even the ability to hide the fact that I wasn’t a good enough parent.

For people to know that our kids are spending the week at Disney, they would either assume that we were loaded and possibly flaunting that fact to the world by posting it on social media—or they would have to be told the truth.  My parents could no longer stand the fact that we couldn’t give our kids this experience—and they decided to do it themselves. 

Now, I am sure my parents would tell you that we aren’t bad parents. And if they remember hard enough—they can understand how difficult life is with small children and one parent that stays home. But, something happens to your heart and the logical parts of your brain when you become a grandparent—and you no longer hear your child’s thoughts, because the voice of your grandchild is so much stronger and more musical to your ears.

Gracie and Thomas are having the time of their life. When I can get them to share a picture or text me, they are so happy and over the mood it’s hard to even understand what they are saying...or feeling.

I have found peace in this whole thing today. My parents told us their plan in March, and they told the kids last weekend. And it has been a roller-coaster of guilt, and worry, and resignation mixed with two children bouncing off the walls, not sleeping and taking a mile a minute.

I can’t be mad at the grandparents. I can’t be mad at the kids. 

And I can’t tell who this trip is benefiting more. 

My parents seem 20 years younger. They are staying out until 11 at night and starting the day at 8. None of the four of them had ever flown. My mother who has severe Fibromyalgia  and Limes Disease is walking more in one day than she probably does in months. My father is riding roller coasters.

I have to embrace this. All of this. The joy my kids are experiencing, even though they are experiencing it without me. The dream that is being realized, even though I had absolutely nothing to do with it. The sacrifice my parents made and the hours of extra hard labor my father did on top of his job to take my kids when I couldn’t. 

My kids are at Disney. And this is a blessing for them—and me. Being grateful means you have to let go of those feelings that hold you back from knowing you are being blessed. 

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