Return to Disneyland

A relaxed morning of coloring: Mother's
Day cards, of course.

There's a breakfast buffet at our hotel, included in the cost.  But, because the hotel is so large and the dining room so inadequate that, at check-in, guests must choose a fifteen-minute seating slot for each morning's meal. One hotel review I'd read (the same one that advised me to pack my own pool towels, as the ones at the hotel were rented at 2 euro per towel per night, with the use of hotel bathroom towels expressly forbidden...yikes!) warned that, unless you went early, you'd still end up waiting for quite some time for breakfast.  And we found this was all too true: since our kids are 7:00 risers, we signed up for 7:30 breakfast.  Even then, the lines for the toaster and the coffee machine were several people long and, each morning, by the time we left, there were dozens and dozens waiting for their chance at a table.


And all that for a few rolls and a cup of Nescafé.  So this morning Dennis took a look his soundly sleeping children and bleary wife and decided that, since we have a car and other options, we'd skip breakfast and find a place to eat out.


Disneyland is in a strange little pocket of France: surrounded by a few hotels, there's nothing much else but empty fields and the roads that were carefully planned for expansion. But, famously, the park was nowhere near the success it was expected to be, and now there it sits, surrounded by the waving grass that marks its debt and disappointment.

Ella practices her French.

But just outside the Disney property is Marne-la-Vallée and its commercial center, Val D'Europe, which is essentially a large mall, several blocks square.  That's where we headed for breakfast, only to discover that, like Disneyland itself, nothing opened before 10:00.

The kids brought their projects with them to breakfast

Except for one little coffee stand, where we finally dragged our hungry selves. Luckily, they had piles of pastries, and the kids stuffed themselves with sugar donuts.  After their first round, I sent the kids to the desk to order their own extras: I got such a kick out of watching Ella and Alex, clutching their coins in their hand, repeating "un biegnet de sucre," over and over under their breath.


Near the coffee shop was a large Auchan store: we needed diapers for Joey and shorts and pants for Alex. (Mysteriously, since we moved to Zürich, all but three of his pants have disappeared: Mais òu sont les pantalons d'antan?) So in we plunged.  There, we found shelf after beautiful shelf bursting with more gleaming products than I've seen in the last four months combined. It turned my head.  Wise from years of living with me, Dennis quickly, efficiently steered me straight as I started walking, glassy-eyed and mouth slightly open, toward the book section.


Dennis dealt with the frustration–of tracking down breakfast, the retail anti-therapy, and the promise of several more days at Disneyland–the best way he could, by going out for a long run while I cocooned with the kids back at the hotel, watching Beauty and the Beast. The few minutes they saw yesterday whetted their appetite.  And that was fine: it didn't make sense to try to do much else, as we had 1:30 reservations to eat lunch with Mickey and his friends.  


And no I must tell you something: I may sometimes sound wry when I talk about Disneyland, but I really love it.  


I love how hard everyone tries while they're there, how desperately everyone who goes there wants to give their children a perfect day, and how willingly everyone embraces G-rated fun.

And (I'm willing to face it) I love going to Disneyland because they got me at the cradle.  I was raised on Disney cartoons.  When the Little Mermaid came out, I remember my sister making a big event of renting the movie, turning the living room into a cinema, serving us popcorn in little boxes, because it was that exciting. And I have such great memories of going to the parks with my family, and, later, with my friends.  I washed cars and, every day for a summer, sold soda at the local baseball field so that I would be able to play trumpet on Disney's Main Street with my High School marching band.  

So now, when I take my family to Disneyland, where nothing has significantly changed since my first trip there in 1986, as I enter Tomorrowland, I can squint and just make out my eleven-year-old sister, waiting patiently for her turn while Pluto signs my baseball cap. And as I stand on Main Street, I can almost hear Mary Beth giggle, just in the spot where we got ready to break into a dance that we totally choreographed. (And how cool was that?!) 

And I love taking my kids to Disneyland because I have rather magical kids.  They all, but Ella, especially, have really fertile imaginations.  Ella's fear yesterday, on the Pirates ride, wasn't surprising in the least: she was afraid because she really could very easily imagine those pirates coming to life.  And she loves that Peter Pan ride because, for a brief 90 seconds moment, she really is Wendy.  And as we walked through that Alice in Wonderland labyrinth, I watched her whispering quietly to herself, curtsying to statues of the Queen of Hearts, picking up her pace when she saw statues of the White Rabbit, being Alice.  "I really wish I had my Alice dress. I'm almost her," she whispered to me at one point.


There was a time, not long ago, when Ella would never have dreamed of entering Disneyland without a costume and fairy wings.  But Ella didn't just dress up for the park, as so many little girls now love doing: she wore fairy wings fairly constantly for about 18 months.  Kindergarten was a bit of a letdown: she couldn't wear wings to kindergarten.

And then, of course, there's this

But, for the first time, Ella didn't even consider putting a single costume into her suitcase as she packed for this vacation. 


And when she told me, after we turned off Beauty and the Beast, "Mom, I don't really feel like going back to Disneyland.  I just want to stay here and rest," what I heard was "Mom, I'm going out with my friends. Can I take the car? Can I stay out past 10:00?"


I'm hoping, and suspecting, it has less to do with her growing up and more to do with fatigue and our stressful and scary trip to the park yesterday.  Although I'm well aware that there is a season for everything. And, please don't mistake me, I'm absolutely looking forward to the time in our lives when we graduate from playgrounds and Disneyland for our family vacations to snorkeling and white water rafting and road trips through the Southwest.  But, still, I'm in no rush: my time with my little ones is limited.


So I was a little relieved when she tried on a dress-up gown in the Disneyland gift shop before lunch. Maybe eight isn't so old, after all.


And the boys, they did this:

They crack themselves up.

Ella, about two years ago.  When Ella told him she 

was from Seattle, Prince Charming, here, said, 

very enthusiastically, "Seattle?! I heard they have 

vampires there!"  Looking at him, would you figure

him for a Twilight fan? Yeah, I would, too.

We've also had many, many meals with Mickey and Cinderella and Chip and Dale, and all sorts of other imaginary friends over the last several years.  It's good fun, it gives Ella a chance to hone her method acting skills, and it always makes Joey and Alex flap their arms amusingly in excitement.  And it's almost always a very laid-back way to eat and be entertained.


But, as I've mentioned, Disneyland Paris is a little different.  As we started looking at the menu, someone turned on loud, loud techno music and we were commanded to dance, get up and dance, with an impatient look from the MC.  But, but...but I just wanted some soup!


I eventually gave up trying to think and stood up with Alex. Joey obediently, confusedly, clapped his hands; Dennis, conversely, used his hands for holding his head and massaging his temples.


But it was worth it when the music stopped and some famous friends started visiting our table.  Joey was beside himself, jumping up and down, running out for huge hugs ("Look! An-mals! Friends!") and Alex was right there beside him, with his ear-splitting smile.  

Ella played it cool, sitting in the corner of the table, devising a game with some trading cards the restaurant gave the kids along with their kiddie menu.


Until Geppetto stopped by our table and Joey froze and curled up into a little, quivering, Joey-ball. "No! He scary!" Alex also declined a hug, so Ella took pity on the friendless old woodcarver and unfolded herself from the table to give him a quick embrace. After Geppetto finally left, Joey sifted through the trading cards until he found Geppetto's, and pointed to it, saying "Scary. He scary." Just in case I hadn't gotten the point.


After lunch, we used our shiny new season passes to get into Disneyland, going to Discoveryland, where we passed a poster for Captain EO.  "You know, I've never seen that," Dennis said, gesturing, "but my best friend used to have a Captain EO poster hanging in his bedroom." I don't think I've seen it, myself, since it first came out in 1986, but I remember it was pretty special at the time. Alex was all for it, too: dancing space guy? What's not to love!  But Ella forgot that she's no longer afraid of 3-D movies and balked.  Until I told her that it was a little like She-Ra.  You can see the resemblance, can't you? Insofar as Good conquers Evil by highly cheesy means? Whatever...it got her through the door.

I'd forgotten how Captain EO was a ground-breaking "total experience" 4-D movie, one of the first of its kind, in which the seats jiggle in time to Michael Jackson's music.  So today marked the first time since 1986 that I've moved with correct rhythm to a Michael Jackson song. Oh, it's a delicious movie, with Jackson, in his falsetto, worrying to his muppet friends about being drummed out of the academy for his blinding incompetence, and cyborg Angelica Houston threatening to turn everyone into trash cans for a nail-biting moment, until she is made beautiful and good through the power of music. When we left, Ella's verdict was "Wow, that was an excellent movie. But I have some questions..." And Alex practiced his fancy dance moves down the sidewalk.


After the movie, we lined up, waiting for the 3:00 parade to start.  I kept Joey entertained by showing him those trading cards we'd gotten at lunch, essentially drilling my two-year-old with Disney flash cards.  Oh, Walt Disney Company, you are nefarious!  But it kept him entertained, so there it is.


The kids had a great time during the parade, particularly Alex, whose hand must have been sore from waving at the end.  


And then we rode it's a small world, where Americans are depicted as cowboys and sports fans, before grabbing hot dogs and heading home in time for just a little swimming: Alex, particularly, had been desperate to swim all day.


On the way back to the car, it occurred to me that the people mover might just be the kids' favorite ride in Disneyland. Certainly Joey adores it, running, giggling up and down the length of it.


But that's okay, too.  I can't, and wouldn't want to, take my kids to Disneyland every day, so I'm glad they love simpler pleasures best.