Lessons from Disney for Life: Eat, Sleep, & Pace Yourself

It's been said that a vacation is a crucible of family life. When a family takes a vacation, all the good things about that family are better; they glow golden. And the not-so-good things? The flaws? The places we need to improve? They stand in stark relief against the very good.

I hope to spend a few days making observations and passing along some ideas fresh from our extended vacation. I hit a few of the biggies here (in a now-expanded, complete with pictures post). Today, I'm going to take on the not-so-good, the bumps in the road where I wish we could have a do-over. There are just two nuggets here.

Eat, Sleep, and Pace Yourself. The meltdown started on Disney Day 7. We had wonderful lunch in a super-fun place. Spirits were high despite the poor weather. We had made a decision--because of the weather--to go to the Disney Store (the biggest one in the whole world) and allow the children to spend the Christmas money Grandpa and Barbara had designated for Disney World. Everyone else went to the Disney Store that day, too. It was big and noisy and overwhelming. Sarah and Karoline wanted to hold everything they saw while they tried to make decisions. Mike and I were being pulled in six directions and we were trying so hard to please. Some of us were so overwhelmed that we couldn't make a clear-headed decision and left with nothing.

We left Downtown Disney and decided to take the rest of the afternoon and do short return trip to Epcot. After a quick trip back at the hotel to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner, we were off. Mike took the big kids in one direction. I took the littles in another. While standing in line for Nemo inside the aquarium building, I looked at my phone to see what time it was. I noticed I'd missed a text. I read a heartbreaking message from Colleen. Trapped with my little girls in line and no cell service, I swallowed, blinked back tears, and prayed. When I connected with Mike, he took everyone back inside and I went out to make a phone call.

After the call, I tried to pull myself together, but my heart wasn't in it. All the fatigue of the previous week started to gather momentum. The kids were getting increasingly cranky and we decided to eat dinner. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. One of the adults doesn't eat wheat and had neglected to pack anything of substance without it. One of the adults doesn't like jelly with his peanut butter. I've known this fact for about 30 years.  In my efficient assembly line sandwich-making, I'd forgotten. Two hungry and tired adults. Wet, tired, hungry kids. We called it a day and went back to the room. 

I might have dissolved into a sobbing heap. We might have made up and slept hard that night.

Overslept. 

We needed to hustle to pack up the van and get out of the hotel. Since it had rained the previous day, we'd left Animal Kingdom for the last day. I buckled an exhuasted Sarah back into the Ergo. It was the warmest day we'd had. Not hot, but more uncomfortable than not with a three-year-old strapped in an infant carrier. Everyone was tired. And everyone was sad. We were leaving. Oh, and I had skipped breakfast to pack the van.

My aunt tells me that my cousin has had a meldown in front of the Tree of Life on two separate trips. She's the mom of four little ones. There must be something about mothers of many at Animal Kingdom. The park is designed around this huge (fake) tree. There are spokes to amusements all branching from that tree. If you walk too far, missing the sign telling you your intended destination is down a particular path, it is highly likely you will walk a long way. Indeed, walk a long way very quickly, so as not to miss the FastPass window. Over and over again. Carrying the preschooler. You might be tired. You might miscommunicate with the person you love most in the whole world. And you might keep up the family tradition of falling apart in Animal Kingdom. And then you will be very sad because it was not The Perfect Trip.

I wasn't the only one struggling. I've never been one to tell tales on my family members here, so we'll leave it at that. We'd all had enough. We were all hungry and tired. Too tired. In hindsight, we should have taken the previous day to just eat a good meal  and hang out in the hotel. I think there is a tendency at Disney World to forget that the hotel is a part of the experience. If we'd soaked up a little more hotel and a little less crowded-noisy-crazy, we might have saved the last day from despair. But there is a corollary that is probably even more important for me.

Lessons from Disney for Life: It Doesn't Have to Be Perfect to Be Very Good

I have tendency to see things in black and white and to be incredibly hard on myself. Either it was the perfect trip or it wasn't. I beat myself up over jelly on peanut butter and miscommunication. I took too personally the expressions of other people's fatigue and hunger. I focused on the imperfections and I might have missed the fact that this trip was very, very good. We returned to my mom's house that night utterly exhausted. We slept. We awoke to a relaxed day and an evening of good food and laughter at my aunt's house. Perspective restored, we drove all the way home the next day, proud that we'd done really good things. 

It might seem strange to begin a series of vacation posts with the end of the trip and the only negatives, but I wanted to make it clear right from the get-go that we are real people with real frailties. I have a couple of close friends who have compared notes with me over the years on the "vacation fight." It happens almost universally (but I'm still shooting for the vacation without one). We've mutually agreed that if any of us texts another with the message "St. Joseph prayers needed now, please" from a family vacation, we are to pray hard. No questions asked. No details necessary. And none given. Stuff happens. Strong families survive and thrive despite the stuff. They might even improve because of the stuff.

We took eight children from 3-19 to Disney World, traveling from DC to Orlando in a big, rented van. It wasn't perfect. But it was good.

Very good.

Bring a Little Magic Home

I wrote a column while I was in Disney World. I had lots and lots of thoughts about the "magic" and what it means for our everyday lives. I hope to have some time soon to get more of them written so I don't forget. For now, though, there are these few. And for those of you who have commented on the height difference between Mike and me, I'm 5'2". If you read the column, you can do math and know just how far up I gaze;-). 

~~~~~

Updated to included the full text and some more pictures here:-)

I’m writing this column from Disney World. My husband and I have been here for nearly a week with eight of our children. We have had a truly wonderful time. Some would call it “magical.” Surely, it seems magical, but I know that, despite all evidence to the contrary, there is no magic. There is something else at work here. Since we arrived, I’ve been trying to pin down exactly what forces are at play to create Disney Magic. Although I’m certain that volumes could be written about the topic, I’d like to toss out just three ways that the magic makes our days here incredibly joyous, three things we can take home when we want to bottle it up and bring it north.

 

Embrace a passion for creativity and hard work. The parks are sparkling clean and every detail is thoughtfully appointed. It’s more than just good organizational management. It’s a philosophy of creativity, cheerfulness, and work ethic. Every single person who works here knows his or her job and does it cheerfully, with excellence. Disney Magic is what happens when creativity meets diligent hard work in a well-supervised environment.  When confronted with a bump in the road, there isn’t any whining or temper-flaring on the part of the Disney cast. Instead, they work to find a pleasant answer—it’s obvious that they are thinking creatively and it’s obvious that they are putting forth their best efforts to make “magic.” The magic isn’t magic at all; it’s just cheerful hard work. There is an expectation that we will all be cheerful together here and everyone seems to be in on the effort.

Follow Daddy; he’s in the lead. It’s been very crowded despite our best efforts to be here on historically less crowded days. Eight children working their way through the crowds in a place where kids and adults alike are easily distracted can strike terror in everyone’s hearts. In our family, Daddy is 6’4”. He has a different perspective on Disney than anyone else—literally. He can see the bigger picture. He’s also a commanding presence. If he’s pushing the stroller through the crowd, the seas seem to part a little. He’s even keeled. He has a plan and he’s considering everyone’s best interest as we move forward from one experience to the next. It works for Dad to lead.

A corollary to this principle is to snuggle the wee ones close.  I would have thought that my three-year-old had long since abandoned the frontpack carrier, but that is where she’s been happiest while we’re here.  I have held her close and she’s taken in the sights and sounds from the safety of my arms. It’s done us both a world of good. Almost magically, we are relaxed and we have plenty of energy, despite logging in an average of seven miles of walking a day (no small feat while carrying 25 pounds of toddler). There is much to be said in favor of holding them close for as long they need us.

You are royalty. Act the part. It didn’t take long for us to figure out the every cast member is trained to refer to a little girl as “princess.” And every single time a ticket taker or waiter or bag checker told them to “have a beautiful day, princess” that little girl would stand up straighter, smile wider and walk with a little spring in her step. They aren’t really magic princesses. But they are daughters of the King. They are heirs to Heaven. Do they know it? Do I? Can we treat each other as such even after we drive north from the magical sunshine of this place into the real workaday world? I hope so. I hope magic can meet memories and we can continue to live the lessons of this vacation.

On a Monday Morning at Home

I find myself:

::noticing God's glory

and wishing it would snow. I've been treated to the sunshine and fair winds of Florida for the last two weeks. Now, I'm kind of hoping to hunker down and cozy in at home. A snowstorm would be just perfect right now--a chance to just be home and be settled. Otherwise, all the little grids in my planner are daunting. Really daunting.

::listening to 

Mike's Blackberry chime. He's sitting here beside me. This is a rare event because I try to stay away from the computer when he's around, but he's been around all the time for two weeks now, so we're making an exception.

::clothing myself in 

a Disney sweatshirt:-).

::giving thanks for

• a safe trip
• fine weather
• the chance to visit with my mother and stepfather and my dear aunts and uncle.
• Disney magic (which isn't magic at all--more on that later. Much more.)

::pondering prayerfully

 If creativity is a habit, then the best creativity is the result of good work habits. They are the nuts and bolts of dreaming. ~Twyla Tharp

::clicking around these links

No clicking. I just deleted over 1000 new posts on Google Reader. I sure hope I didn't miss anything really good. Let me know if you know of a not-to-be-missed link from the last two weeks. Oh, but do read this article. Michael told me about it and seconded it by telling me of a similar interview at USA Today. This guy is for real.

 

::turning the pages of this book

The Creative Habit by Twyla Tharp. Lots of food for thought in this one. Sarah recommended it.

::creating by hand

Gosh! I have a whole list of things I've been itching to get to do. I'm going to start with a baby quilt for a dear February baby. And I think I'm going to try one of these scarves for myself. I think I'm on a little bit of scarf kick. And I promised every child in my family a flannel cozy. They want them yesterday. It's cold and they're complaining just a bit. Oh, and I'm thinking about Project Life. I'd really like to jump in. I have the kit and everything to go back and record my big boys' millions of picture currently in shoeboxes. But, oh, that digital idea? It's very, very tempting... On the other hand, it's a Shutterfly partnership and I 've been disappointed with the quality of shutterfly's printing on calendars and cards lately. Anybody have thoughts on this?

 

::learning lessons in

organization. I've been taking notes, at least mentally. I've come to the conclusion that some of the happiest, most creative places I know are extremely organized. I'm very motivated to re-visit my long-forgotten home organization notebook, update it, and implement some other organizational ideas I have buzzing in my brain. Within hours of arriving home, I'd completely cleaned out the pantry, reorganized three kitchen cabinets, re-organized all the bathroom cabinets, and fully stocked the refrigerator. 

Wedding planning. Here's where I ask (for the first time) for all your great ideas. Let's talk weddings and receptions. particularly if you are local and you know a great venue or caterer, please chime in!

::encouraging learning 

first up in my organized world: a very systematic school week. 

 

::carefully cultivating rhythm

When we were at Disney, our days were planned very carefully. We had a list, all written out, of what we were going to do when. We didn't follow the list. Our plans changed as circumstances dictated change. But we started with a plan and our serendipitous discoveries were all the better for having the plan from which to begin. There is going to be some carefully cultivated rhythm in this house henceforth.

::begging prayers

for my dear friend Colleen, as she meets incomprehensible grief of another child she will not hold here on earth, while going forward to embrace God's plan for her family in a foreign land. Her courage, her determination and her resolve to never, ever relinquish hope inspire me daily. Godspeed, my friend.

and for Mary Beth as she makes some difficult choices and some big changes.

::keeping house

I'm on a tear. Nothing like spending two weeks in beautiful homes and hotels to make one want to renovate the whole house;-).

::crafting in the kitchen 

Mike and I went out this morning and shopped for the week. We're all stocked up and my menus are made. It was astounding how our grocery bill compared to the last two weeks' eating out bills. We won't think about that now, though. Oh, and I think I'm going to take the Green Smoothie Challenge.

::loving the moments

There were so many moments. I'm grateful for all the time we had together. It was good. Very, very good.

::living the liturgy

I'm sort of lost liturgically. It was Christmas still when we left. Michael and Kristin took down the tree while we were gone and carefully put it away. But there are still little remnants of Christmas trimmings here and there. I'm focusing anew on praying the Hours and bringing myself into the presence of the universal Church. I'm ready to sink into Ordinary time. And, oh happy day, there are enough peppermint candles left to ease the transition this week. Life smells sweet.

 

::planning for the week ahead

I begin with the orthodontist at 7:15 this morning. Stephen popped two bands while we were gone.Have I mentioned that my orthodontist never sleeps? I'm pretty sure he doesn't. And he's very cheerful early in the morning. From there, it's back into the full swing of learning and playing and dancing and driving. While we were in Disney World, I walked 5-10 miles a day. Most of the time, I was carrying Sarah. I feel like that was a great jumpstart to a new, more active me. I am determined to get in an hour of exercise every day.

I Wish I'd Brought a Camera

{this moment} - A Friday ritual.  Photo capturing a moment from the week.  A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, visit Soulemama to leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see.

Usually, Friday is for {this moment}. This Friday, though, the moment is in my memory and my words will have to capture the image.

Mary Beth and I made a considered decision not to bring the camera on our first day at Disney. We both wanted to live in the moment and not to look at the day through the lens. I'm mostly glad we decided to do it that way--we were giving all our managements systems their first tests and the camera was one fewer thing to consider. There is one moment though that is an image I do want to keep forever.

All day, Patrick was making me (and everyone else) a little nuts. Every kid has his or her own way of absorbing the sensory stimulation of Disney. Even though it's all good, it's still stressful. Patrick processes through his feet. It's the weirdest thing. A little bit of elbow action, but mostly feet--kicking things, jostling, navigating  through space as if he were on a soccer field. For the most part, it was Nicky who paid the price. Every time, I turned around, Paddy was tripping, bumping, or otherwise jostling Nicky. I tend to be overprotective of Nicky--he's in a tough spot because he's the youngest of five super-competitive boys. And I  try mostly unsuccessfully to mitigate the big brother teasing. Frankly, I was really ready to wring Patrick's neck.

At the end of the day, all the kids were gathered at a railing overlooking the lake watching the light show at Epcot. I walked up between Patrick and Mary Beth and told Patrick  that at the end of the show I wanted him to take Karoline firmly by the hand. Mary Beth was assigned Katie. Mike would carry Sarah. It was really dark and I wanted to impress upon Paddy the seriousness of his assignment. I told him that more children are lost in the dark after the Epcot light show that anywhere else at any other time. His ears perked up. "Where'd you hear that?" he asked

"I read it in the guide book." Instant credibility.

When the show ended, the plan abruptly changed. Christian scooped Sarah up onto his shoulders. Mary Beth plopped Karoline in the stroller and buckled her in. And Patrick knocked up against Nicholas and locked his arms firmly around his shoulders. Then, he gathered Stephen into himself with his other arm. He held them tightly against his body the whole long walk to the parking tram. There is no doubt that under the guise of a headlock, he was all big brother. I walked behind them all the way and soaked up the sight of his strong, protective arms, wishing I could capture the image. 

No one got lost.

Intentional Weekend: Packing and Planning

There will surely be some dipping and dancing this evening, but today we're all about packing and planning.