I just spent a week in Disneyland California with my Cousin Crockett. It was my first trip out of the country with out the entourage. I missed the offspring but refused to dwell on that. I let myself enjoy the moment.
I loved the copious amount of towels left at my disposal. Yes I used everyone of them. No I was not worrying about the environment like the hotel sign asked me to.
I loved the king size bed that produced chocolate every night. Yes it was a magical bed. So comfy and cuddly, filled with chocolate coins. I slept starfish, diagonal, lengthwise, crosswise, and warm. I cranked the air-conditioning (again see the comment about not caring about the environment) and bundled up. The feeling was delicious!
I loved the silence. I did not turn the TV on once, nor did I listen to music or podcasts. I enjoyed the peaceful sound of nothingness. The pure luxury of slipping into the tub without someone asking me a question. Being alone with my thoughts for long stretches was delightful. I was spoiled to the nth degree.
I loved the little detailed moments. The opportunity to take time out and pay attention to detail was luxurious. Along the Frontier trail, across from Big Thunder Mountain Rail Road there is a pond. It is leftover from an old attraction. We stopped and leaned on the bridge railing to enjoy the jumping fish. Yes I had seen this before, but to be able to take as much time as I wanted without the need to push forward to the next attraction was delightful. The opportunity to take the time to enjoy all the details that makes Disneyland a fantastical place had to be a highlight for me. I marveled at everything from the horseshoe prints on the walkway to the sounds of Pirates of the Caribbean. As you float by the animatronics, only the sound of that character can be heard. You distinctly hear the dog, you know who sings tenor, and you can tell who is giggling! It was luxury not to be worrying about my children and making sure they were having a great time. I could focus on what I wanted to see and find.
I loved taking an afternoon break. I could nap if I wanted or soak in a bath. I could shop at a store that didn’t sell Lego or sit a bar and drink mojitos. I ate in restaurants without giving thought to the menu and if Genetic Offspring would eat anything or skip a meal altogether because I was still full from breakfast.
I loved staying at the park for late shows. Not worrying about everyone getting enough sleep so we could have a tear free day. I let my thoughts drift to memories and conversations previous that only enhanced the moment. I could be lost in silent thought or involved in interesting conversation. All of it was perfect!
I hated how my feet hurt but loved the way I was fit enough that my muscles didn’t.
I loved not having to focus on my family but look and observe other people’s children. There is something going on with the universe that attracts kids to me. I rarely notice adults, but children catch my eye and will play peek-a-boo or shyly smile. We share private jokes because they notice the same funny thing I do while their parents are oblivious to the situation. I would spot money on the ground and tap the arm of a child and then point to the money. They would pick it up to give to me. I would shake my head and say “no, I think it is yours” and delight while I watched their face light up. Or wait off to the side to find some unsuspecting kids to give fastpasses too. The thrill on their face would make my day.
I have one more week of quiet solitude. Then the entourage will be home to help me celebrate my 1/2 marathon. I can’t wait to spoil them, but will take time out to continue to spoil me this week.