I am sitting in the quiet of my home having wrapped up a few days at Disneyland. For those of you who have not gone in a while, quiet is what you will seek after a few days at the Magic Kingdom. I even looked forward to the plane ride home (which is very unusual for me) because I could put on my IPOD, tune out the world, and sleep.
I can't describe the way a trip to Disneyland makes me feel. Let me get past all the disclaimers. Yes, it is fun on steroids. Yes, they take and take your money. Yes, it is the synthesis of corporate America and childhood fantasy. Not to sound harsh, but I could really care less about all that. Disneyland is THE place where fun is to be had. And after all Mike and I have been through, we are looking for as many ways to have fun as possible. Yes, we could travel to Europe. Yes, we could travel to New York City. And we will. But Disneyland is what we needed to celebrate hope, celebrate Mike, and celebrate the fact that we both can rock Disneyland with little misery and still love each other afterwards.
The wild card in the equation was Max Schultz, Jay and Jess' little guy. Here are my recommendations: 1. Go to Disneyland without a kid so you can be purely selfish; 2. Go to Disneyland with a kid so you can really act silly. Max was awesome. At almost 4, he defended Buzz Lightyear, got shrunk by a crazy scientist, was spooked by the happenings at the Haunted Mansion, met all of his Disney friends, saw pirates and Mr. Bones, and at as many chicken tenders as possible. What more can anyone ask for.
Am I tired? You bet! Do I have "Yo, ho, yo, ho, a pirate's life for me" stuck in my head? You bet. But did I have the time of my life? Absolutely. My next question is...when can I go again?
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