I love all things Disn.ey. Yes, I do admit it. Even though I know how the company mass-produces and over-commercializes everything … I do love Disn.ey.
So when Hubby, his cousins, and I all met at his uncle’s house near Orlando … there was no doubt in everyone’s mind that we’d be heading to Disn.eywo.rld. Specifically the Magic Kingdom … because I just HAD to go to the new Pirates of the Caribbean ride. After all, I also have a relatively healthy (?) obsession with Joh.nny De.pp. But as luck would have it, the ride had just closed for two weeks the day before we went. 🙁
Notice all the red tshirts?
There’s something about the Magic Kingdom that just makes me feel like a little kid again. After all, the first time I had ever gone to Disn.eywo.rld was when I was six years old. And once we entered the park and looked up at Cinderella’s Castle, I was once again that six-year-old who just wanted to be a princess when she grew up.
This is a comment I made to Luna before Hubby & I left for Orlando. Luna and I both found out that we were going to be in Disn.eywo.rld for a short spell of time. And even though I really would have loved to meet her IRL, unfortunately that small window of opportunity proved to be too small. (One day, though I may just find a way to meet up with the fabulous Luna!)
That comment of just looking forward to being a kid again was in a response to Luna, who had mentioned that I was strong person to be excited to go to the kid-centric universe called Disn.ney. And I could see her point, as starting our own families and raising our own children has been, in part, a ginormous part our our lives. How was I going to survive being surrounded by hoards of families, with little ones in strollers and slightly larger ones (aka the 5-9 year-old range) holding on to the hands of their parents?
Well, for one thing … we found out rather quickly that the day we went was “Gay Day” at Disn.eywo.rld. Oh yes … a sea of red t-shirts with interesting sayings like “Slut Puppy” or “The Best Marine is a Submarine” surrounded us at every turn. My personal favorites were “Closets are for Clothes” and “Brokeback from Waaaay Back!” Let’s just say, it made the day twenty times more interesting! Not that they couldn’t have children of their own, but frankly we just didn’t see any young kids being pushed in strollers by them.
Honestly, I think I was doing pretty d*mn good. Hubby and I were having fun with our cousins, especially our one cousin’s 5-year old daughter, Shayna, who was just so excited to be there amongst all the Disn.ey characters. She had a special affinity to Belle … as did our other older, single male cousin which we teased him relentlessly about.
It wasn’t until I hit the “Many Adventures of Wi.nnie the Po.oh” ride that it hit me. And thank G*d that we didn’t get to that ride until later in the evening. Because quite honestly, the rest of the time I found myself struggling not to feel so unsettled.
Po.oh Bear and Classic Po.oh Dress
You see, along with all things Dis.ney … I especially love all things Po.oh, which started from the time I was very little. My favorite thing from childhood (which I still have) was my Po.oh Bear blanket. My bedroom, until the time I was 10, was decorated in Wi.nnie the Po.oh and his friends. My favorite storytime “record” (remember those?) was all about Po.oh. I loved Po.oh so much that back when Hubby & I were optimistic about having our own baby, we planned to decorate the nursery in all “Classic Pooh” items. And ten years ago, “Classic Po.oh” stuff was difficult to find. So any time we would find something that might fit in with our nursery theme we would try to pick it up.
Now we have all this “Classic Po.oh” stuff collected and yet, no nursery to decorate. Or fill. And in those ten years I’ve now seen at least three of my family members and friends have babies and provide them with all the “Classic Po.oh” stuff that I wish I could give my own child.
I managed to find ways to distract myself for the remaining time we were there, but there just seemed to be this miniature black cloud hanging over my head. And later on that night after getting back to our uncle’s house after 2 am … and after Hubby (who did all of the driving) crashed into bed, I stepped in the shower and silently mourned yet another wish unfulfilled.
And I realize now that I’m not strong as I thought I was.
Holy Schmoly! (Try spelling THAT, you 
Yesterday I realized that my SIL is due in a little over three months. And while I spent most of her pregnancy with Liam wallowing in self-pity and anger, this time around I’ve pretty much “ignored” the fact that she was once again pregnant. And I’m once again not.
So keeping myself at arm’s length during my SIL’s pregnancy is the best thing I could do for her. Because I don’t want her to feel my sadness. And I don’t want her to feel my anger. Because, quite frankly, she doesn’t need to focus on any of those emotions except making sure she brings a healthy baby into this world. This time around.