The Cost of Magic

Our trip to Disney World was cold, rainy, and wonderful. When I told friends about the weather we endured in Orlando they offered sympathetic responses. But they don’t know. Because when you’re a Disney Pro, cold and rainy is what you want; inclement weather keeps the Floridians with season passes at home and brings the wait times down! Throw disposable ponchos in the backpack and you are king of the park. Add extra magic hours and at 1 am on a rainy day you can walk right on to Space Mountain over and over again.

Disney World is a place of magic for my family. It all started when we had three with the forth on the way. We saved our pennies and took the plunge for our first trip. It was a lot for a young family, but was worth it the minute we walked onto Main Street and our oldest (5 at the time) broke into spontaneous dance when she took in the lights and sounds around her.

We went back a few years later when we had our full complement of children. Even at two, Kylie was so happy on the ferry ride that she had to pull her shirt up and rub her belly – which is the ultimate expression of joy!

I won’t bore you with our memories – they are special to us, but most are the, “you had to be there,” kind of funny. This trip might have been our last as a family living together. It was a graduation present for Meredith (college) and Jenna (high school). Pretty soon, real life will set in for them. We may get back there again, you never know. But there are no guarantees once they start leaving the nest. In fact, there are no guarantees at all.

This trip, we walked just over fifty miles in five days. In the past, with my head visible above the crowd, I was the exclusive leader of the pack. But now, at 50, I followed some. Only Jenna and I have the fortitude it takes to successfully navigate Disney – to crush the elderly and push small children aside. The others are too soft-hearted to get anywhere because you have to be decisive in a crowd and move with purpose. That’s a joke, of course, no one (that we know of) was actually hurt during our Disney Trip.

While we were on a bus one day, our 20-year-old, Kendall made the statement that this was her ninth trip to Disney. I was floored. One of those was with her high school chorus, but eight were family trips. Thinking of the money I had just shelled out, I found it hard to believe we got there eight times! But she remembers everything so I stopped doubting her long ago.

With the girls sleeping on the trip back, the old, worn-out folks began to reminisce about the week. We talked about how much we missed Kylie there – she would have loved every second of it. Of course, we also felt her there often. Our life is now a conflicted state of hard/easy, joy/pain, contentment/discontent.

As a father who has had to hammer at the budget for over 22 years, I pondered the amount of money we spent on those eight trips. There have been some lean years mixed in there; years of belt-tightening and tough decisions. Yet we went eight times! That total cost must be mid-five digits before the decimal – likely enough to buy a nice car. That’s a lot of money.

And I don’t want a dollar back. My circumstance has taught me that experience trumps anything I own or could own. Kylie was taken away from me too early, but no one can ever take away the memory of her first meeting with Mickey Mouse or her smile when she was finally big enough to ride Splash Mountain.

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Kylie’s knee would start hurting soon after we returned from this trip

If you are a young dad, please listen to me: Take the trip! Use your vacation! Spend the money! I am not advocating financial irresponsibility – if you are struggling to make ends meet, take a camping trip (I grew up with vacations in tents.) But most of us could endure a smaller house, a less expensive car, or fewer nights out. Skimp somewhere else but do not shortchange your time and experience with you children. The big car will always be at the dealership, but the reality of life is that none of us are promised another day with our loved ones. We should live our lives with that in mind and leave no room for regret.

 

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Our last trip with Kylie

The Road to Misperception?

Isn’t it funny how we see ourselves one way and others might see it another? Even when the difference in perception is brought to light, we still might not view things the same. And when you have children past the “Daddy is God” age, they love bringing a fault or two to your attention. It seems that this is their primary job, at least until they have to pay their first rent check.

I say this because it has recently been pointed out to me that I may have a misperception of my driving competency.

This being the last summer before our oldest graduates college, we’ve tried to spend some extra time together and I’m one of those people who feels like if I’m going to be in the car, I might as well be driving. My insurance company loves me and my driving record. I also think of myself as a good driver and this is where the opinion between me and my daughters diverge. It’s me vs. them.

How I view myself behind the wheel:

 

How my family sees it:

Evidently, I am a raging lunatic who brings my family one step closer to death every time I touch the wheel.

I don’t think anything has changed in my driving, I just think they notice things now. I liked it better in the days when they were oblivious – when they would watch videos in the backseat for hours and never look up to see daddy maniacally tailgating the Ohio driver doing forty in the left lane. Now whenever I meander over the yellow line, I see them in the rear-view mirror giving each other that knowing look. I feel like they already have a plan in place and are just waiting for evidence.

My first reaction is to tell them to shut-up. To explain in no uncertain terms that I taught them to drive and have damaged fewer cars in my thirty plus years than they have in five. But then… then I see clearly that these three will take my keys away someday and if it matters, right now the vote is 3 against 1. They have a lot of goods on me and with the right judge, I’m not sure where I could end up – a senior home? A padded cell? Certainly somewhere without a car!

 

We took a little trip to the zoo last weekend. I don’t think I’m afraid of them, but I did find myself subconsciously minding my lane and swallowing aggression against other drivers. Oh, and I also have found a very clever hiding place for my keys… just in case.