The Disney Driven Life

Community Blog for Neurotic Disney People

TWIDDLING THUMBS ON THE WAY TO MEET TWEEDLE-DUM

With all the necessary preparations complete, the week before a Disney trip can be rather torturous.  A NDM finds she has already done everything that can be done beforehand to ensure vacation perfection, and there is nothing left except waiting for the remaining time to pass.  This psychotic crawling of time can make a NDM madder than a hatter.

Such is the predicament of which I currently find myself.  Most NDMs don’t naturally possess the virtue of patience since patience is generally not compatible with neurosis.  But when the issue is Disney related . . . . well, patience becomes an absolute impossibility for the NDM.  What do I do with myself for the next few days to keep the tick-tock of my biological mouse clock from sending me to the Toontown Funny Farm?

My first thought is to clean my house.  But as I ponder sanitizing my bathrooms for the fourth time in three days, I realize that there must be other things to consider in killing the time.  Snow White’s suggestion to “Whistle While You Work” served me well the first half of this week.  In fact, DH and my spawn have been overjoyed with my incessant tidying.  But I fear the cheerful pastime has run its course.  After all, the grout in between shower tiles can only be cleaned so much before the mildew remover (which removed the mildew two scrubbings ago) begins to erode the hearty, bonding material.

As an alternative I consider listening to Disney music.  It is almost always a relaxing activity for me.  Throughout the year I regularly enlist this as a way of mentally transporting me to my “Laughing Place” when I can’t be there.  For this reason, I rationalize that it is logical to seek sanctuary amongst my collection of Disney CDs.  I put my favorite box set of theme park sounds in the stereo and prepare to watch my anxiety take a trip to Tomorrowland.  Shockingly, though, I discover an unexpected difficulty.  The magical tunes that normally soothe my Neurotic Disney soul have become a source of torment.  Rather than easing the emotional pain a NDM might carry when outside the boundaries of Lake Buena Vista, it taunts me with the vivid reminder that other families are enjoying magical bliss in our country’s top vacation destination whilst I am sitting here trying to keep the March Hare at bay.

I think it is time to phone a friend as a form of distraction.  Seeing as DH is my very best friend, I dial him up at his office.  Tax season recently ended, so his work as an accountant is temporarily slow.  I am certain that a loving call from his doting wife will be just the thing he needs to brighten his boring day.

“Hello,” he answers.  “Hi sweetie.  How are you,” I inquire.  He replies, “Fine.  What is going on at home today?”  “NOTHING,” I explode.  “That is the problem!”  DH’s innocent question somehow becomes a springboard for suppressed irritation, and I find myself in a tirade about the insanity and cruelty of waiting on the passage of four more uneventful days.  DH calmly absorbs every bit of seething fury I expel through our fiber optic connection.  Finally he interjects during a rare moment when I pause for breath, “Love?”  “Yes,” I answer.  He calmly presents, “Do you realize that you’ve called me at work and kept me on the phone for at least ten minutes so that you could yell at me about your early preparation for our trip?  I didn’t want you to do all this so far ahead of time in the first place.  Remember?  It seems a little unfair that I’m the recipient of your frustration.  Also, yelling at me while I’m at work seems like a particularly poor choice of timing.  Do you think we could proceed with your venting episode after business hours?”  Embarrassed by my lack of composure, I meekly agree to his reasonable request.

As I hang up the phone, I acknowledge my accidental slip of rationale and realize the nutty Cheshire Cat must be dangerously close.  The time has come to sit and analyze the value of a NDM’s thorough and advanced planning measures.  On the one hand, I am happy because I know that everything is ready to go and our departure can now happen at the earliest possible moment.  However, the very fact that we are able to leave at any time, pushes me to the brink of insanity because that time is still days away.  It is a conundrum that could produce tears in a NDM much like the Tulgey Wood did for Alice in her Wonderland.

The alternative would be to postpone shopping, packing and list-checking until a day or two before departure.  This way I would certainly be kept busy and avoid the hum-drum that normally tortures me the last days before vacation.  I try to imagine this scenario and shudder at the thought.  Putting a NDM in those shoes creates stress and anxiety of an entirely different nature.  I easily envision my quest for Disney vacation perfection being put under the gun and throwing me into the circle of Disney villains.  Malificent could not hold a candle to what I would become.  My children would hate me, and my Prince Charming would try to escape me.  This option is certainly not the preferable way for a NDM to lead her family to the “Happiest Place on Earth.”

Since I seem condemned to some extreme condition as the day of departure draws near, I reason that surely “Goofy” madness is more desirable than cranky evilness.  So with the inevitable outcome of neurosis-induced insanity, I resign myself to the state of a raving lunatic with a silly nature. 

I go to my kitchen to see if I have the ingredients of a digestively safe cake and inform the children that we must prepare.  There is an unbirthday party to throw, and I comment that we should expect some very lively company.  As I gather my favorite spinning teacup and practice my best English accent, I reckon I’m as ready as ever for a Mad Tea Party.  “Now what was that riddle about a raven and a writing desk,” I say to myself as I imagine a white rabbit with a waistcoat rushing across my backyard.  Unlike Alice who didn’t want to “go among mad people,” I finally embrace the idea.  After all, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

*for creative ideas on how to pass the time while waiting for your Disney vacation, contact NDM#1 at ndm1@thedisneydrivenlife.com

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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/

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