In one month… ok, ok- a month and a day if you’re going to be picky about it- we will be leaving for the land of the giant rat- aka Disney World.
Miserable terrible WHORE of a drive aside- we’re really looking forward to it. And by ‘we’re’- I mean Thomas and I- because the boys don’t know we’re going yet.
At first we didn’t tell them because even though we’d booked it, we weren’t 100% positive we’d actually go or be able to afford it or work out all of the details, and the LAST thing you want to do is tell a child they’re going to Disney World and then have to tell them it ain’t happening. The retaliation, I imagine, would be more frightening than that kid from The Grudge.
Once we actually got it paid off before the deadline, setting the trip in stone and saving ourselves from homicidal toddlers meowing like cats- we still didn’t tell them.
I think all of those videos contaminating the TV of children being surprised in some special way by their parents and freaking the fuck out clouded our knowledge of who our children really are. Namely, who Holden is:
The least excitable child on the planet.
It sounds like an exaggeration, what four year old doesn’t get excited over… well.. just about everything? Carrot sticks, pickles for lunch, an extra cookie, gummy vitamins, going to a bounce house or the park or the store or even just in the back yard; hot dogs for dinner, and yes- even getting to take a piss in a public restroom- most small children shit bricks of glee. Not mine. Not ever! Not even once!
Christmas comes around? He couldn’t give two fucks less, because he gave no fucks to begin with. Sure, he digs the presents, but is he EXCITED? Ask him yourself, the response you get is “yeah…..” in a very soft monotonous tone.
The last trip to Disney? He knew about it for months in advance, and while he could NOT seem to STFU about it, there was little to no excitement. Once we arrived he was happy to be there, but I think I had more excitement in my pinky than he did his entire body. I was the kid and he was the adult. I half expected a “calm DOWN, woman! it’s not that big of a deal!” to come out of his mouth.
Is this type of thing hereditary? Can it be fixed? Will it change?
Not only is my Dad that exact same type, but so is Thomas.
Imagine seeing the Hollywood sign for the very first time- wouldn’t you think of that as a really cool experience, worthy of a glimmer of excitement? Yeah… not Thomas.
I WANT that jumping up and down, “i’m going to film this and either win ten grand on america’s funniest home videos or my child will be in a Disney commercial” kind of reaction. A Christmas morning “you got me exactly what I asked for!” screaming fit, completely with spittle and snot bubbles. I want the jumping, wacky waving inflatable arm flailing tube-man full body fucking FREAK OUT.
IT’S DISNEY FOR SHIT’S SAKE! GIVE ME SOMETHING TO WORK WITH!
Do I think I will actually receive this ultra-satisfying “damn i’m the best mommy EVER” moment? Hell no I don’t.
Am I going to attempt to film it just in case and likely be horribly embarrassed anyways? Hell yes I am. It’s what we moms do, we can’t help it.
Dear people writing articles on ways to get siblings to get along, I'll save you the time. The answer is "Don't let them play together"
Please stop Complimenting my kids’ “Good” Behavior goo.gl/fb/rwfojS
Hard pass from me pic.twitter.com/VayvW1eopK
I've gotten to the point where I'd let my kids summon a demon with a Ouija board before I'd let them play Monopoly together again.
Parenthood is when you start counting the minutes to bed time before 11am.