The Disney Driven Life

Community Blog for Neurotic Disney People

Quite a few of the Disney resorts have boat service to the parks and attractions.  You can get to the Magic Kingdom by boat from the Wilderness Lodge as well as from the Contemporary, Polynesian and Grand Floridian resorts.  Downtown Disney is accessible by boat from the Port Orleans resorts, Old Key West and Saratoga Springs.  The whole EPCOT resort area is connected by boat to the Boardwalk, Disney’s Hollywood Studios and EPCOT.  This includes the Walt Disney World Swan and Dolphin resorts, the Boardwalk Inn and the Yacht and Beach clubs.  Naturally, each of these boat-accessible resorts has a dock.  I think the prettiest dock by far at Walt Disney World is the one directly in front of the Yacht Club.  In the distance, the Boardwalk and the manicured banks of Crescent Lake make for a pretty backdrop.

CLICK HERE for additional scenes from Disney’s Yacht Club

Contributed by: Erin is one of our roaming DDL photographers and creator of My Mobile Adventures.

Tweet This Post

Often times Saratoga Springs gets a bad rap. It’s big. Bus service isn’t good. If I book my DVC trip last minute I’ll only get Saratoga.

But my firm opinion is that you have to look at the good values to realize how the resort can benefit those who stay there overall.

I wanted to take a quick glance at a new offering that will hopefully make Saratoga more appealing to many. And to digress for a moment, I truly love this resort. I have said it before and I’ll say it again, Saratoga really does have a ton to offer DVC members and those who have booked it with a great rate on cash.  You just have to know how to maneuver the resort. If you understand that you can experience the gorgeous setting and location, as well as have a chance to catch the otter family that lives on Saratoga property!

Okay, now that I have confessed my undying love for Saratoga, I can continue.

Recently DVC announced a new feature pool at this resort. It will be located in the Paddock section of Saratoga Springs. Yes, Saratoga is big, so this new pool will offer another location for guests to swim, soak in the sun, and enjoy a snack. This will also relieve many of the complaints that, from some locations of the resort, it is simply too far to walk to High Rock Springs (the current only feature pool).

The pool is going to be magnificent.  The pool is currently considered a quiet or leisure pool so this expansion will triple it in size. A waterslide will be added as well. There will be a children’s play area and lifeguards will be on duty.  The addition of the waterslide and play area as well as the lifeguards added is a game changer for many staying at Saratoga. This pool may even rival the current one!

In addition to the pool there is another surprise. A quick service dining location will be added near the pool in the Paddock section! Is there anything more enjoyable than a burger and fries in your bathing suit? I think not. Currently when using quiet pools in the Paddock, Congress Park or Grandstand sections the guests would be limited to a drink service with limited snacks (if they had that at all!). With the addition of this counter service is expands guest’s options for good eats at Saratoga.

The addition of the counter service location will also provide benefits beyond the pool. It lowers crowds at the current and only counter service location at the resort during very busy times like lunch and dinner and it will provide a viable option for those not wanting to walk to the main part of the resort for a snack and to quickly refill their mug. Because is there anything worse than having to walk a half a mile in your bathing suit to refill you diet coke with lemon?

Overall these additions can be taken as big or small. To me, these are large improvements that DVC is making in order to please the members. It may sound silly when I laugh about walking in your bathing suit to refill your mug, but these are the things that can make or break a resort. The location of amenities, how long you wait in line for lunch at the counter service when the kids just want to play in the pool, these are things that people often base their opinion of the resort on! And these additions at Saratoga, I believe, are really going to change how people perceive the resort. But what do you think? DVC Members, is Saratoga your last “resort”? Non-members, would you book here on cash? Tweet me @kidanikatie and let me know!

Contributed by: Katie S. (NDI#30).  Katie is our resident Disney Vacation Club expert and creator of The DVC Life .

Tweet This Post

This time of year is always overwhelming for our family.  Joel works steadily around the clock at his office to meet pressing deadlines.  This leaves me to solely manage the affairs of our home and children.   Therefore, I am always on the brink of insanity, but these past seven days have been unusually stressful.

Last week I quit my job due to a precarious situation that was worsening in nature daily.  Since then I have been tense as I search for a new source of income to pay for our Disney Vacation Club membership.   Our failing economy hasn’t done much for my job search or my nerves with the “doom and gloom” that is now a regular part of the news, but this is not the full extent of my recent anxiety.

My 32^nd birthday was this past week.  The occasion should have been a joyful one, but it was quickly overshadowed the following day by mournful circumstances.  Joel’s beloved grandfather passed away.  This man was considered a great pillar in the community that we reside in and touched many lives, so not only is our family dealing with a great loss but we are also expecting to host hoards of out-of-town family and friends as they arrive for the multiple memorial services.

I look at the disarray of my home, and I feel the muscles in my neck tighten with stress.  I am a mom who homeschools, manages the health issues of three children with a medical condition, and serves as primary administrator of all Disney matters in our home. For this reason, I simply have not been able to keep up with house cleaning during Joel’s absence.  After all, if you put me in a position where I have to choose between freshly laundered clothes or perfectly planned advanced dinner reservations in Epcot, I will choose the advanced dinner reservations every time.

It is perfectly clear in my mind that choosing to spend my limited amount of time in this manner has been wise.  But as I look at the dirty underwear strewn across the house by Elle, who invariably strips en route to the potty, I hesitate to believe that my impending guests will feel the same.

The task of cleaning a neglected home, carrying my regular load of responsibilities, and hosting a nearly continuous flow of guests is a thought that makes my knees buckle and my forehead wrinkle in tension.  It is obvious that there is only one thing to be done. There is an immediate need for relaxation.

I make my way to the kids’ bathroom for a hot, relaxing bath.  Their large bathroom with double sinks and a full-size tub is quite roomier than the claustrophobic outhouse and stand-up shower attached to my bedroom.  For this reason, I have been known to steal away from time to time into the relaxation of a warm, bubble bath that the kids’ restroom can provide . . . just as I do now.

I walk into the tiled room and make my preparations.  The lighting is dimmed as I turn off the overhead lights and put a match to numerous candles on the counter.  A pleasant aroma fills the air when a few drops of essential oils are mixed into the hot water filling the tub.  The soft and soothing touch of bubbles envelopes my skin as I step into the warm, liquid abyss that awaits.  My whole body relaxes when I hit “play” on my CD player that emits various Disney tracks and mentally transports me to my paradise on Earth, Walt Disney World.

It proves to be a pleasant time.  I have been able to soak for half an hour with interruptions from my kiddos coming only at intervals of every five minutes.  In comparison to other attempts at a relaxing bath that have abruptly ended due to the sudden onset of sibling enmity among my precious offspring, this endeavor must be considered a success.

On this particular occasion, though, I realize upon my emergence from the suds that I have forgotten to bring my change of clothes with me.  So I wrap one of the kids’ bath towels around me as best I can and scurry down the hallway to my room.  Unfortunately, Margeaux catches a glimpse of this happenstance and begins giggling.   Because I fail to see the comical object of her amusement, I question, “What?”  In between giggles, Margeaux manages to explain, “Your bottom and the top of your legs jiggle when you walk.”

Now I have always been one to appreciate the honesty of children.  They are truthful even when it hurts, and—in my opinion—that is a rare gift these days.  But on this particular occasion, I become a little alarmed.  We currently have reservations at Disney’s Beach Club Villas. This resort is renowned for its pool that sprawls across an acre and features an impressive waterslide, lazy river, and sand-covered floor.  It is my guess that we will spend a noteable amount of time there, and I will need to wear my bathing suit (which happens to be a two-piece).

I give Margeaux a troubled glance, disappear into the selcusion of my bedroom and shut the door behind me.  Admittedly, I have entered my fourth decade of life and given birth to three children on the way.  A little wear-and-tear is to be expected, but in my harried way of functioning, I have failed to stop and notice any spectacularly embarrassing changes in my body.  I slowly unwrap myself in front of the mirror to further examine my once-shapely bottom.  And there it is, the faintest sign of cellulite that does, indeed, jiggle when I step.  I gasp at the sight.  How can this be!  I feel like I am having an outer-body experience.  Here I am in my own skin, yet I am surely looking at someone else’s.

I console myself with the reminder that the lower half of my two-piece swimsuit resembles tight-fitting shorts rather than underwear briefs.  Perhaps this will hinder any jiggling from taking place while I am poolside, and I can still feel confident and comfortable when at Mickey’s beach resort.

I sigh and manage to put on my undergarments before I hear Elle wrestle with my doorknob outside in the hallway.  Another five minutes has passed, and she is about to burst in the room–right on schedule!  Once she has wriggled the knob enough to trigger the door’s release, Elle unabashedly enters and inquires, “Mom?”

Caught half-dressed and struggling to get jeans over my abundant thighs, I do my best to act as if nothing is improper about this  scene.  But Elle, who has now set eyes on her nearly naked mom, stops and stares.  She has apparently forgotten the original reason for her intrusion and is lost in thought.  Finally she asks, “Mommy, is there a baby in your tummy?”  I stand up straight in horror, leaving my jeans around my thighs where they seem content to stay.  Did she just say what I think she said?

It occurs to me that in addition to not taking time to examine my ample rear-end, I have not recently bothered to scrutinize my abdomen either.  I shut my eyes tightly, quickly pray that I can still find my toes, open my eyes and glance down.  I am happy to find that my toes are still in view, but due to a now mildly bloated belly and enlarged thighs, I am unable to see my knees.  The last time I dealt with this scenario, I was smiling from ear to ear because I was carrying Elle in my first trimester.  But there is no smile today.  In fact, the wrinkled forehead and tense muscles that my bath had vanquished have now returned.

“No, sweetheart,” I reply in a deflated tone, “Mommy doesn’t have a baby in her tummy.”  She considers my response momentarily and then remarks, “Yea, that’s not a baby.  That’s a jellyfish!” With that Elle makes her exit, giving me five more minutes of solitude to analyze the implications of her latest observation.

This is terrible!  My two-piece may be able to minimize the jiggling of my derriere, but it is completely incapable of disguising abdominal jellyfish.  What is a Mickey-loving, thirty-something, mother-of-three to do?  I briefly entertain the thought of canceling our entire vacation, but the heinous nature of that sacrilegious act becomes immediately apparent.  There must be another way, but the answer fails to come to me.

As I sit on my well-cushioned rump and my jelly-like stomach rolls over my underwear’s waistline, I squarely look at the situation before me.  A mere ten minutes ago I had happily washed all my cares away and felt ready to conquer anything.  But somehow I am now back at my starting point, feeling overwhelmed, frustrated, angst-ridden and in need of relaxation. I will need to find an alternative method to soothe my knotted muscles and bruised self-esteem because it is certain that I will not be indulging in another bath anytime soon.

Contributed by: JL (NDM#1). JL is our Disney Driven Lifestyle Coach and creator of The Disney Driven Life as well as the Neurotic Disney People Community.

Tweet This Post

The kids have been tucked in. Books have been read and the nightlight is secured in your bathroom at Old Key West “just in case”. Grandma has offered to stay with the kids for a bit and tells you and your significant other to go have a night on the town.

What better town than Disney?

Last week we talked a bit about my love affair with Boardwalk Villas so this post will just continue that love. Because one of the best spots adults can enjoy while at Disney is the Boardwalk itself!

The Boardwalk has restaurants, shops and vendors that are open all day. But have you heard the old saying, “the Boardwalk comes alive at night”? Well, that is true of Disney’s Boardwalk as well.

You can consider spending dinner at the ESPN club or simply enjoying some appetizers and drinks while watching the big game. And while the prices have been Disney-fied, the menu has not. Wings, nachos and “boo-yeah” chili all grace the appetizers menu, perfect for the start of a night out.

Afterward, enjoy the atmosphere on the Boardwalk! Street vendors, games and snacks galore! Perfect for a stroll and to take in the sights and sounds of Disney World that many forget can be found outside of the parks.

Where to head for some drinks and music? Atlantic Dance Hall and Jellyrolls are both ideal for this. These Boardwalk venues are open later than any resort bar and fantastic for the night owls out there. Jellyrolls does have a cover, so be prepared, but many say this dueling piano bar can’t be beat.

This post was actually inspired by the Atlantic Dance Hall, believe it or not. Since we have been traveling to Disney we have made some wonderful friends. On a recent trip we traveled from World Showcase over to the Boardwalk area to enjoy the sights and dance some of the real world stress away!  This area might be a new must do for me after a night in World Showcase.

And now it is time to tie this back into DVC. You had wondered where I had strayed to, right? A major selling point of the Boardwalk (and Beach Club) Villas is their proximity to the Boardwalk location. I’ve touched base on this previously; however, I can’t stress enough how important it is at night. Picture this: you’ve been out all day in Epcot and after the park closed, and you tucked the kids in bed, you headed over to Jellyrolls. A night of dueling piano fun has left you broke and beat! A little after 1 a.m. you wander out onto the Boardwalk and it hits you. How do you get back to Old Key West, where you are staying? You don’t have a car so you have limited options. Including: taking a bus to a park and then transferring to Old Key West, taking a bus to Downtown Disney and taking a bus back to Old Key West or depleting your savings account on a pricey taxi!

Granted, at any other time of day, those other choices wouldn’t have been that terrible, but so late at night you just want to get back to your room and put your feet up, right? The Boardwalk and Beach Club Villas are minutes away from the Boardwalk area. You can simply walk back to your room! The kids won’t even know you had left. And that is a reason why I love this area so much. So will you be booking your next stay at the Boardwalk? Let me know!

Photo credit: Katie S.

Contributed by: Katie S. (NDI#30).  Katie is our resident Disney Vacation Club expert and creator of The DVC Life .

Tweet This Post

When purchasing into the Disney Vacation Club, you purchase into a home resort. Fear not, Disney lovers, you are not stuck staying here and only here for the rest of all Disney eternity. Buying into a resort as your “home” gives you a booking advantage there.  At 11 months from the date of travel a member can reserve their trip at their home resort. At 7 months from the date of travel a member can book their trip at any DVC resort.

So where should your home resort be? And, to complicate matters more, you can even have multiple home resorts! I thought I would take us on a journey through the DVC Resorts and the amenities within them in the next few posts.

The Boardwalk Villas are nestled between Epcot and Disney’s Hollywood Studios and of course provide wonderful access and views of the Boardwalk itself! The Villas are attached to the Inn, which is a Disney deluxe resort, and it is easy to see why.

Let’s just imagine an early morning at the World. It is a little foggy over Crescent Lake and there is a warm breeze. You are sitting on your balcony overlooking the Boardwalk with a coffee and a delicious pastry. A couple of early morning runners run by below.

End dream sequence.

But it doesn’t have to be a dream! This is just a common morning for those that stay at the Boardwalk Resort.

The location in the morning is peaceful, but during the day it is right in the middle of all of the action. People headed to activities and restaurants on the Boardwalk and those leisurely strolling to either Epcot or DHS; the walk to Epcot a mere 10 minutes, the walk to DHS just about 15.

So you want to buy into the Boardwalk as your Disney Vacation Club home resort? Good choice. The Villas may have opened in 1996 but they were just completely refurbished and members are reporting they look brand new. They also have two different view categories, which gives you some options when booking with points. A standard view requires fewer points and is perfect for someone wanting to save some points where a preferred/Boardwalk view is perfect for the member with points to splurge.  Believe me, when booking a resort you are sometimes thankful that there is a view that requires less (for example: standard view versus savanna view at Animal Kingdom Lodge) because there will inevitably be a year that you simply don’t have the points available to book the better view and you do not want to borrow.

The Boardwalk Villas are also very hard to reserve at the 7-month window during September-Early November because of Food & Wine. So what does this mean for someone who owns the Villas as a home resort? Remember, that means you have a home resort booking advantage at the 11-month window! So you are pretty much guaranteed to have a room at your beloved Boardwalk any time of the year.

Within walking distance to two theme parks or a beautiful boat ride away and on Crescent Lake within walking distance of many other resorts and restaurants, the Boardwalk is considered by many to be the perfect spot for your home resort. And on the resale market you can pick up a Boardwalk Villas Disney Vacation Club contract at an amazing price!

Some things to consider, unlike the newer resorts the Boardwalk contract ends in 2042 (where, for example, Animal Kingdom Villas ends in 2057) so you will want to contemplate that when estimating your contract’s value. Dues per point and paid yearly are currently $5.36 per point, a little bit higher than other Disney Vacation Club Resorts. This means, for example, that if you purchased a 100 point contract at the Boardwalk this year you would pay $5.36 X 100 = $536 dollars in dues. And note that dues generally increase 2-5% yearly.

I’ve scared you with numbers, haven’t I? I apologize! But I hope you are familiar not only with the Boardwalk after this post but familiar with the items to consider when purchasing a home resort. So are you interested in the Boardwalk? And did you know there are other activities and DVC Resorts on Crescent Lake? Stay tuned!

Photo credit: Katie S.

Contributed by: Katie S. (NDI#30).  Katie is our resident Disney Vacation Club expert and creator of The DVC Life .

Tweet This Post

I’m going to go out on a limb and say that for most Disney fans being a part of the Disney Vacation Club sparks a little bit of interest.  Owning a little piece of the magic, owning the pineapple in your Dole Whip, owning the Bay in your Lake Tower. But even though I’m the resident DVC enthusiast and a lover of all things Disney timeshare, I’ll be the first to admit that it isn’t for everyone.  And that is the very first step into discovering DVC is asking yourself: Should I buy?

Should you? Let’s find out. Let’s take a little quiz!

1. Do you go to Disney at least once every two years?

2. Can you legitimately say that for the near future your primary vacation plans involve Disney?

3. Are you most happy in deluxe accommodations and are willing to pay higher prices for such?

4. Are you able to plan the majority of your vacations a great deal ahead of time?

5. Are you willing to give up daily housekeeping?

6. Are you willing to give up cash reservation perk deals such as: free dining, buy four get seven and pin codes?

7. Are you financially able to sustain the initial purchase of the Vacation Club and yearly dues going forward?

If you answered “yes” to the majority of those questions you may just be on the right track to owning the Pop in your Century. But let’s dive a little further into this vast vacation club ownership and expand on a couple of points.

The Disney Vacation Club shouldn’t be looked at as a way to save money. Now, let me also state, that if used in a manor and in an economy where Disney isn’t giving away “buy three get twenty” you can save money. And quite a bit. But the way you should initially be looking at DVC is an investment in future vacations, an investment in accommodations that will sustain your family.

And with that though, it is time to address what your resident DVC expert believes to be the most important point in the “should I buy” experiment.

As a new DVC member the very first thing you must be prepared for is that sinking feeling in your stomach. That feeling you get when it is 95 degrees with humidity out and the Splash Mountain line is 180 minutes long. It is the feeling of not hunting for a deal.

Suffice to say I am pretty confident that you all passed certain questions on my quiz. You are visiting this blog, so I assume you are a huge Disney fan, and because of that, I assume that you will travel to Disney in the future with your family. I’ll assume that you’ll deal with reusing towels. And I’ll assume that if you are really looking into DVC you think you may be able to handle the dues. But what I can’t assume is that you bargain hunters out there can give up a deal.

You are the Disney savvy. You know the codes to get the discounted package rate before Disney does. In desperation for pin codes, you join every Disney mailing list known to man. To you paying rack rate is like going to Disney the week between Christmas and New Years without a touring plan. Disney deal hunters, unite!

And that, my NDP’s, was the hardest thing for me to get over. I honestly think that the first time I ever received a pin code in my email was the day after I purchased DVC. I digress.

But remember what I mentioned. In a “normal” economy DVC will save you money. Right now is not an apples to apples comparison because of the deals Disney is providing. But what you have to ask yourself is: will these deals always be here? And the answer is no. Sure there will be codes here and there but nothing like what we have seen in the past couple years. DVC is investing in future vacations and you must think of it like that as free dining folks are stumbling next to you delirious from free full bellies.  Not to say that if an extra special deal comes out you couldn’t bank or rent your points and book the cash deal but that is for another post, people!

So here we are, at the end of my first rambling post here. We have asked ourselves some tough questions. Some of you may have answered yes with ease. Some of you I’ve scared away. Some of you want more information!

Well I’ll be here to do my best for that. The Disney Vacation Club isn’t for everyone. It takes a lot of research and a big commitment. But I hope that my future articles will help you decide either way and maybe even give you a chuckle or two. Stay tuned for next week’s article where we discuss home resort advantages and booking windows!

Contributed by: Katie S. (NDI#30).  Katie is our resident Disney Vacation Club expert and creator of The DVC Life .

Tweet This Post

OUR KEY WEST KINDGOM

As we pull into our parking space, I look upon some of the most inviting condos I have ever laid eyes on.  Surrounded by tropical palm trees and lush shrubbery, three stories of pastel-painted units sit behind a section of white picket fence and a pleasant bench area.  I can hardly wait to find out which unit is ours.

I turn around to face the back seat of my van and capture the look on my cherubs’ faces when I am abruptly reminded of our incredible amount of luggage.  In the past we have never required this much stuff during our trips, but this time we needed to literally pack everything but the kitchen sink due to the childrens’ medical condition.  The thought of lugging all these boxes, coolers and suitcases through long, winding paths is a very unappealing one.  Even though we are now in the midst of Key West bliss, nothing can make that chore magical. 

“I hope our unit isn’t too far,” I slightly whine as I think of past escapades that involved walking endlessly to designated accommodations in Disney’s moderate resorts.  “It isn’t,” DH cheerfully remarks, “It is right in front of us.”  I say with surprise, “What?  I thought you said we have a water view.”  DH exclaims, “We do!”  “I don’t understand,” I reply with confusion, “Are you telling me that we have parking just outside of our unit and we still have a water view off of our balcony?  How can that be?  When we wanted a water view at Disney’s Coronado Springs, we had to walk at least five minutes around fountains and cacti, towing all our luggage, before we reached our room.” 

Apparently I had been too preoccupied with my DVC status inferiority complex during check-in, and I failed to hear the lovely hostess explain that all OKW units have parking directly outside their front doors.  I am completely tickled by this, for nothing gives you the feeling of “home” quite like your own parking space.  “Wow,” I exclaim, “unpacking the van is going to be a breeze compared to our past trips.” DH agrees. 

We excitedly jump out of the van and begin removing baggage and children from within.  I suggest that I start taking luggage up to our unit on the second floor while DH continues to unload the van’s contents.  Finding this to be a good idea, DH nods his head, tosses me a key card to our Key West Kingdom and tells me the number of our “home away from home.”

I carefully balance multiple bags from my neck and shoulders while I pull a rolling duffle bag with one hand and a tired two-year-old with the other.  It is an extremely awkward task, but since the door to my unit is so close I am not bothered.  It will be over soon.  Inching down the sidewalk, I pass some stairs on my left that lead directly to my unit’s front door.  However, with all this baggage, I am not about to take the stairs.  I walk further in order to find a nearby elevator. 

Ever so slowly, I progress down the cement walkway near the front doors of the first floor units. I pass a janitorial closet, a staff-only elevator, a couple designated smoke areas and beautiful landscaping.  Somehow, though, I fail to find the elevator.  “It must be here somewhere,” I mumble to myself.  “Mommy, where are we going,” DD2 asks in a voice that indicates her patience is wearing thin.  I respond, “Mommy is looking for the elevator.  If you see the elevator, tell Mommy.  OK?”  DD2 says in an irritated tone, “OK.”

After painstakingly walking the entire length of the condo complex, I am flustered with the fact that I must now walk all the way back and hope for better luck in spotting an elevator.  Centimeter by centimeter, DD2 and I trudge back towards our point of origin.  The luggage seems to be a lot heavier now, and it rythmically hits my ample rump while I walk.  A time or two bags slip from my shoulders, causing me to lose equilibrium and allow multiple sachels to fall in a pile on the sidewalk.  DD2’s tolerance for my misadventure grows thin and her fussing takes center stage.  I sigh heavily and long to have an elevator in my sight.

Eventually we come back to the foot of the stairs that lead to my second floor condo.  How could I miss the elevator for a second time?  At this point, I am too invested in the elevator hunt.  I cannot give up now.  “C’mon, DD2,” I prompt, “The elevator is here somewhere.  We’ll find it.”

Once again we begin a trek down the length of the building.  As I am about to pass the staff-elevator for a third time, I consider that the guest elevator must be in this vicinity.  Telling DD2 to wait with the luggage, I walk around the entire structure that houses the elevator shaft, looking for the hidden entrance to the luxury I long to find.  None is too be found.  “Pixie wings,” I expel in frustration, “Where could the dumb elevator be?”  I rejoin DD2 and my luggage on the path that lies between the staff-elevator and the front door of some DVC vacationer who is fortunate enough to have a unit on the ground floor.  Completely flabbergasted, I tell DD2 that the elevator must be camouflaged well.

Just then, the fortunate DVC Member with the ground floor unit emerges from his front door.  He obviously has some great vacation event to attend because he has a big smile on his face as he heads towards his car.  “Excuse me,” I yell as I quickly waddle in his direction with baggage and child trailing behind, “Can you tell me where the elevator is?  I have an incredible amount of luggage that I need to get up to the second level.”  The fortunate member’s big smile transforms into a sympathetic frown, “There isn’t an elevator for guests.  You’ll have to carry it up the steps.”  With that the pleasant member’s smile appears on his face again, and he says, “I hope you have a great vacation.”  Then he turns and continues on his way.

My jaw drops open at the words just spoken to me.  I have been up since one o’ clock this morning, driven nine hours in a crowded mini-van, listened to several hours of crying and complaining from bewildered children and suffered a severe blow to my self-esteem while waiting in the check-in line behind Botox Barbie.  Happily I withstood it all. But the injustice of enduring so much emotional pain and stress, clawing my way to get here, only to find that this deluxe resort property does not afford me the luxury of transporting my luggage from the ground floor to the second floor via a simple elevator overwhelms me.  The reality is too much for me to take.

As I hobble with my bags and daughter back to the foot of the stairs, I feel defeated.  I look up to the second level.  My door is almost directly above me.  It is so close, yet it is so far away.  Something in me gives way, and I feel a huge swell of exasperation overtake me.  I plop my sorry backside right on the bottom step and begin to sob.  It’s just too much, and my own personal meltdown begins.  DD2 has ceased to fuss and just stares at her NDM who has completely lost it.

“Love,” DH’s voice calls to me.  I look up and see DH looking strangely at me from the upper level where I want to be.  “Where have you been, and what are you doing?”  As I gasp for breath in between sobs, I try to relay the whole ordeal I just experienced.  But rather than a rational explanation, I am only able to spout nonsensical blubbering.

DH assesses the scenario and joins me at the bottom of the steps.  “Alright,” he says in a comforting tone, “It’s going to be OK.  I’ve already got all our stuff upstairs and in our condo.  I think you might need a nap.  Why don’t you go on up with DD2 and lie down.  I will bring the rest of these bags.  Can you do that?”  “Uh-huh,” I affirmatively answer through my sniffling, getting up and finally making my way to the front door and welcome mat that were meant for me.

 

Tweet This Post

I rock back and forth, balancing my posture on my toes first and then heels. The fidgeting feeling travels beyond my lower limbs, though, and begins to creep into my fingers.  I try to still my digits by clasping my hands behind my back, and this does seem to help quiet my overly excited body to some degree.

 It is difficult to see much through the mass of people, but I crane my neck to get a good look at the lobby.  As I piece together the fractured scenery between the heads that tower over my slight 5’2” NDM frame, I make out a beautiful mural on the wall behind the check-in counter.  It portrays colorful beachfront homes, a lighthouse and some docked boats in a coastal setting. The colors are bright, yet they induce a sense of ease and care-free living.  In the foreground, actual lampposts catch my eye.  Then I realize that in a clever move of interior design, Disney has mounted these appliances at each hotel clerk’s post.  It is one of those special touches that make Disney stand out among its competitors in the aspect of theming.

I close my eyes and focus on the Jimmy Buffett song I faintly hear beyond the murmur of chit-chat.  As I imagine being immersed within Key West, I can almost smell the ocean.

My smile has now become a permanent fixture on my face.  My cheeks burn from being held in a contracted position, but I can’t help their discomfort.  This is a moment in my life that I will always retain, and my grin is an inevitable response.

 A cheerful Cast Member, dressed as a beach attendant, begins handing out folders with resort information tucked inside.  I am handed my very own Pluto-clad portfolio, and I beam as I read the “Welcome Home” message scripted across the cover.  My guess is that due to the length of the wait, this folder was given to provide me with reading material while I bide my time in line as well as make the check-in process move a tad more quickly.

In order to enhance this special moment, I decide that I should strike up a conversation with another happy vacationer.  “Have you been here before,” I ask the woman in front of me.  My excessive amount of perkiness would even shame the High School Musical pep squad, but it seems to come naturally to me as I stand in the middle of Key West bliss.  She looks down her perfectly constructed nose at me, gives me a “once-over” glance, and haughtily says, “No.”  Her condescending tone catches me off guard.  Suddenly, I am cognizant of the fact that she is an actual Disney Vacation Club Member, and I have now betrayed the reality that I am not with my embarrassing amount of enthusiasm. 

My smile immediately transforms into a humbled expression. My eyes dart from side to side to see if anyone else has noticed the fact that this silicon-implanted female has just verbally undressed me with one word.  I feel completely naked as a non-Disney Vacation Club Member in the middle of a Disney Vacation Club Resort.  My acute self-awareness has left me feeling like a sham . . . a poser.  Sheepishly I chuckle, “Oh. This is my first time.”  She looks at me with a knowing smirk and says, “Yes.”  I gulp and feel my pride being swallowed along with my saliva.  Is there somewhere for me to hide?

In addition to feeling bare as a result of my diminished vacationer status, I now feel naked upon the realization that I’m not holding a credit card.  Since DH is the credit card keeper, his presence becomes necessary as I find myself getting closer to our check-in opportunity.  I catch DH’s gaze and motion that he should arise from the striped sofa and join me in line.

We find ourselves poised behind the line’s last boundary.  In a brief moment we will be invited to approach the check-in counter with a cordial, “May I help you?”  As we continue to wait, I look to my immediate left. Marking this threshold of vacation initiation is a sign that states: Welcome Home Disney Vacation Club Members.  Once again, it brings to my attention that I am a fraud, assuming a position in a Disney Vacation Club Member line when I have not put my signature on a DVC deed. This is not actually “my home away from home.”  Instead, I am merely enacting some queer form of breaking and entering.  I shrink away from the sign and accidentally bump into DH’s side. As I demurely apologize for my imposing existence, DH looks at me curiously.  I am not usually a NDM that presents as meek and mild, so he is slightly alarmed by my changed demeanor.  He asks, “Are you OK?”  Averting my eyes from him, I softly speak, “I’m fine.”

A beach attendant looks up from her post and waves for us to join her.  I follow behind DH, watching my feet and not daring to look at the others whom still stand in line.  DH motions that I should begin speaking with the hostess and acquire our accommodations, but I can’t bring myself to do it.  I am far too nervous about the DVC intrusion I am about to commit.  DH looks at me with a furrowed brow, shakes his head in confusion and takes over the dialogue.

I stand in agony while the sweet beach attendant goes over each item in our Disney Vacation Club folder with DH.  Due to us booking our reservation under the name and ID number of Bill.Knows.Disney, our driver’s licenses must have given away the fact that that we are not true members . . . that we are merely renting DVC points.  I’m sure this endearing Cast Member is aware of our fraudulent activities, yet she continues to treat us with the utmost respect.  The guilt builds inside me with every kind gesture she extends.  I fear I may burst.

When she finally wraps up our check-in formalities with the friendly phrase, “Welcome Home,” I can stand it no longer.  I break my silence with the confession I feel compelled to announce. “We aren’t members. We are just wanna-bees,” I blurt.

I dare to look upon her face in that moment and am met with a strange expression in which I can’t quite read a meaning.  A nervous giggle escapes my throat.  I blush in an awkwardly shy manner.  Then quicker than any woman with plastic body parts could say “botox,” I grab DH’s hand and make a quick exit with my family.

Tweet This Post

THE ZENITH OF OLD KEY WEST

“Disney’s Best Kept Secret” reached my ear back in 1997.  I was on my Walt Disney World honeymoon, strolling hand-in-hand with DH through the landscape of Downtown Disney, when an attractive kiosk caught my attention.  The sign attached to the kiosk promised to reveal a carefully protected Disney confidence if I would only approach the kiosk-keeper who smiled pleasantly beside the booth.

DH was very reluctant to stop.  Disney secrets were not his forte, and he was suspicious of individuals who oozed happiness in temperatures nearing a hundred degrees.  Nevertheless, because his blushing bride was so eager to learn this critical morsel of gossip, DH consented to a brief encounter with the kiosk that now held me in a spell-binding trance.

It only took a few minutes to learn that “Disney’s Best Kept Secret” was a concept called the Disney Vacation Club.  It was Disney’s version of a timeshare, but it functioned with quite a bit more flexibility.  I found it appealing on so many different levels, but the bottom line for me was that it somehow enabled a person to get to Walt Disney World every year.  The bottom line for DH, though, was “the bottom line,” so he dragged me away from the company of my kiosk-keeping friend in an attempt to protect our joint bank account. 

DH was too late though.  The dream of joining the Disney Vacation Club had taken root deep within my soul.  I knew that at some point my fate would bring me to the doorstep of a Disney Vacation Club resort.

Ten years later I find myself finally realizing my dream.  Our mini-van turns into the entrance of Disney’s Old Key West Resort.  We pass the inviting sign that proudly displays the Disney Vacation Club logo and resort name on a stark white background.  I feel excitement rise up within me, for this is hallowed ground. 

As the vacation club’s first resort, Disney’s Old Key West Resort is the birthplace for this elite organization.  For far too long I have hoped to know more about the carefully guarded secret of this DVC spot.  For far too long I have wished to see what lay behind the picturesque guardhouse.  The time has finally come for my questions to be answered . . . for my curiosities to be satisfied . . . for my DVC yearning to be fulfilled.

I sit in awe of the beautiful architecture of the porte cochere and the buildings behind it.  The very familiar feeling of Disney neurosis begins to take hold of me as I acknowledge my arrival here.  The nirvana is heightened by the fact that this previously off-limits part of Disney will now become a part of my Disney journey.

I am in my own realm at this point.  DH and the kiddos barely enter my consciousness.  It is just Disney’s Old Key West Resort and me in this surreal moment.  While my eyes bulge and my smile takes on Cheshire Cat-like characteristics, I feel unable to control myself entirely.  The car is still in motion since we have not found a parking spot as of yet, but I fantasize about jumping from our moving vehicle since I might gain an extra minute of Disney life with my hasty action.  In his best automated voice, DH recites a familiar script that instructs all persons to not exit the vehicle until it has come to a complete stop.  And like all NDMs who are trained to not question the authority of automated safety scripts, I obey.

Once the car is parked, I leap from my seat, grab the children and rush to the shelter of the porte cochere.  DH is left to take care of gathering pertinent items like identification and reservation confirmation numbers.  I cannot be bothered by such trivial details.  All that matters is entering the magical aura of Disney’s Old Key West Resort. 

As soon as my mouseketeers and I step underneath the shade of the porte cochere, we hear the mesmerizing sound of Harry Belafonte.  His call to tally bananas slows our run to a leisurely pace while we all join in singing, “Day-O! Da-a-ay-O! Daylight come and me want to go home.”  I feel myself being transported to a life of beaches, boardwalks and flip-flops.

We pass by a kind beach attendant who is behind a guest relations stand placed on the pathway.  He has a gentle smile and beckons my soon-to-be beach bums to approach his stand.  They are only too pleased to follow the call of this pied piper when he dangles Mickey Mouse stickers before their eyes.  After each little one has been branded as Disney property with their prominently placed sticker, this helpful attendant offers to escort us to the Hospitality House.  I am happy to accept since I have never been here before and am uncertain which building houses the check-in counter.

I am shown the appropriate door to the lobby and take a deep breath before gripping the door handle.  This is a moment that I have anticipated for a decade.  My moment is abruptly spoiled, though, when I open the door to find that there is a long line that ends right at the door.  The enormous amount of people gathered in the room makes it difficult to even enter this place.  Apparently this is a peak time for arrivals and the check-in line nearly extends out of the lobby.  I realize that the children will not be able to remain happy in such a long line, so I burrow a path through the crowded lobby to find an alternative for my exhausted mouseketeers.

Happily, I find a den of sorts adjacent to the lobby.  It has a pleasant and relaxed atmosphere, showcasing floor-to-ceiling bookcases, inviting stuffed armchairs and sofas, cozy table lamps for reading, a fireplace and lush potted plants.  I entertain the idea of avoiding the check-in line and simply living in this den for the week.

Then I lay eyes on the solution to my problem of impatient children.  There is a TV tucked away in a corner, playing classic Disney cartoons.  Set up directly in front of the electronic babysitter are two rows of miniature wicker chairs.  They are perfect for my pint-sized brood, so I usher my little people to the few remaining seats available.  My avid Disney channel watchers are pulled in by the novelty of this charming nook, and I can see that the ambiance of Old Key West Resort has captured them in a powerful way.

DH finds our cheerful group in the cartoon-viewing area.  He looks happy but exhausted from the long drive.  Due to my adrenaline rush, I am unable to sit.  I offer to take the pertinent materials from DH and wait in line while he rests on a striped sofa.  He accepts my offer and quickly assumes a comfortable position on the furniture.

I glance towards the lobby area.  It is crowded, but it is time to take my place among this privileged group of vacationers.

Tweet This Post

THE MORNING AFTER

The world is coming to an end.  That must be it.  There is no other reason to explain the strange feeling that has suddenly overcome me.  I am afraid to go to Walt Disney World.  Surely it is a sign of the apocalypse. 

Now that all my weeks of hyper-focused energy have landed us a stay at Disney’s Old Key West Resort, I am paralyzed by the thought of actually going.  This happening is absolutely bizarre, but there is some method to my madness. 

We entered the realm of “special dietary needs” years ago, and it has imprisoned us ever since.  Our children haven’t eaten a meal prepared outside of our kitchen in two years.  And since their entire diet is composed of perishable, whole food, this has meant that we have never been away from home for more than 18 hours.  It has not been easy.  It has not been pleasant.  But my children have made great strides in recovery because of it, and we have grown accustomed to it.  Now I realize that I am terrified to go outside of these boundaries that have been a means of protection for so long. 

There are only a handful of specialty meats, fruits and vegetables that my children can eat.  Most of them can’t be found in grocery stores.  It has taken me years to search out healthy, organic farms that raise meats and grow food that my children can eat without negatively reacting, and none of them are located in Orlando.  What if we run out of food while we are there?  What if the food goes bad en route?  What if we have a dietary infraction and undo all the progress we have made over the years?  What if I forget to pack a critical supplement?  What if we need our specialized doctor?  What if Mickey is ill-equipped to handle the delicate natures of my angelic spawn and the frazzled nerves of their bewildered NDM? 

These are not the only things to consider, though.  The preparations of this trip will be the likes of which I have never seen before.  As I gnaw on my fingernails, I acknowledge that I was not raised to vacation this way.  I have no experience as a traveling “special needs” mom.  The modern conveniences of drive-thrus, restaurants, and pre-packaged foods have always played a dominant role in my vacation training, and I feel quite out of my element as I look to what lies ahead.  A normal trip to WDW already necessitates a great degree of detailed planning, and this “abnormal” trip will require even more.  Since I cannot avail myself of the common luxuries that most utilize when on vacation, I will have to do a lot of thinking “outside the box” in order to avoid disaster.  The pressure is intense.  What if I am caught unprepared?  What if I fail?  What if my family is permanently damaged in some way by my inability to rise to the occasion? 

The “what ifs” won’t leave me alone.  They attack my imagination from every side and grow more horrific in nature.  The last fingernail is ravished, and my cuticles become the focus of my crazed oral fixation.  I envision a hundred dreadful Disney scenarios in my mind.  Each one features starvation, a fatal bacterial infection, a life-impairing accident, an acquired disease or a brain-eating amoeba.  I can’t do this.  We can’t go.  We will never survive. 

My fingertips have transformed into bloody stumps and no longer satisfy my need to nibble.  I look at my toenails and wonder if it is possible to somehow bring them to my gnashing teeth.  I am in between a rock and a hard place.  I must get to WDW for my 10^th anniversary, but I cannot go because it may kill my family.  As I look for a corner to curl up in the fetal position and bang my head, I realize that I have somehow lost the endearing “Disney” factor of my esteemed title.  I no longer resemble a Neurotic Disney Mom.  I have regressed to the state of just Neurotic Mom.  The revelation is enough to scare me more than my Disney paranoia.  I need professional help.  It is time to call Bill. 

Bill, being the knowledgeable Disney man that he is as well as a father of a kid with ”special needs”, is uncommonly compassionate while I expel the barrage of irrational notions in my mind.  He gently reminds me that his son’s medical condition is akin to the one my children have, and his son has survived every year that they’ve gone to Disney.  He declares that not once has his son ever contracted the West Nile Virus from a rabid mosquito roaming Lake Buena Vista, and he is doubtful that mine will either.  I find comfort in his soothing words and begin to relax. 

As Bill expertly executes his therapy session, he even goes so far as to suggest that my family could possibly dine in a restaurant due to Disney’s expertise in accommodating dietary needs.  I gasp in horror at the thought.  Going to WDW is one thing, but entrusting the preparation of my children’s food to another individual is an entirely different matter!  It took me a great many months to get a handle on all the particulars of this restricted diet.  I find it incredulous that a chef who is preparing meals for an entire restaurant simultaneously can give the meals of my little digestively-challenged kiddos the specialized attention they need.  But Bill is insistent, and begs me to at least consider the notion.  With this, he passes on the contact information for Brenda who is the primary supervisor of the “special dietary needs” department in Disney.  I am doubtful that I will actually reach out to this woman because I have no intention of allowing anyone else to take on the serious responsibility of feeding my children, but I record the information “just in case.” 

I thank Bill profusely for his time and patience, and I hang up the phone.  He has gone above and beyond his call of duty as DVC reservationist.  It is certain that providing NDM counseling for panicked vacation planners is not in his job description; however, he did not shy away from the task.  In fact, he managed it quite smoothly and took it in stride.  Is it possible that he has done this before? 

I am feeling more at ease now about the monstrous planning project that I face.  In fact, I can see that taking on this new level of Disney vacation preparation is an absolute necessity.  Clearly, in the last 24 hours something tragic has occurred in my composition to cause such Disney dysfunction.  It is absolutely unacceptable for a NDM to be Disney-phobic, and this must be corrected.  So for the betterment of my own mental health, I resolve to move forward with the trip and push through this temporary malaise to find my zippity-doo-dah, Neurotic Disney self once more.

*Contact information for Walt Disney World special dietary requests:

(407) 824-5967

WDW.Special.Diets@disney.com

http://disneyworld.disney.go.com/guest-services/special-dietary-requests/

Tweet This Post