As I watched the spectacular cast of characters who pantomimed & brought to life Disney icons on floats in the Magic Kingdom parade, I slipped into the same fantasy that brought so much cheer to those watching. Thinking about it, I remember teaching units on the fairy tale in a children’s lit course I taught to Early Childhood Ed (ECE) majors. A certain fondness for the “happily ever after” persists, even in the cynicism of modern day. It’s still there. Throngs of visitors who visit all the Disney parks reinforce this everyday.
And as I struggled to find decent space with my family to view the procession, I found it funny how adult annoyances could still creep in. A father spanked his toddler for being overly excited, & as she cried, and her body sobbing in child’s pose on the ground, he sat there expressionless, ignoring her. All I wanted to do was console her, but there he was, continuing to ignore her.
That was a painful moment of cognitive dissonance. Since becoming a mother, I find it so much more difficult to not feel viscerally a child’s sadness, feelings of rejection, fear, or hurt. Childhood conjures up images of happiness in the nostalgic mind, or at least a wish of that kind of dreamy kind of childhood.
What is the draw to neverending happiness & undying love, which sets up humans to grapple with the realities of partnership? We want to escape into feelings of elation, no worries in the world. Even if for a brief time. The wonders of childhood innocence & magic resurface in the adult’s heart, to an imagination where anything is possible, even the wildest dreams. There’s a kind of a surreal feeling when the spell dissipates, & cruel reality greets you once more.
As an introvert & a career mother, the reality of work & life balance hits me hard. Especially when wanting to be a good parent, a good mother. I live for the moment in the morning when the little one pads into the master bedroom in his feety pajamas, blanky in hand & “Moogie Monsur” under the other arm, seeking snuggles from Mommy. There’s a high from just smelling him & feeling content with him on my lap. He’s changed me.
I can only imagine how Walt Disney must have felt about his own children, wanting them to have a childhood he never had. And now the world shares in his imagined vision of that gift.
And so, when I get home at the end of the workday, I feel a deeper sense of appreciation for the being an older parent. Exhaustion makes me more patient, in that I’ve gained a more profound perspective of what matters. Conserving energy becomes a critical skill, so focusing on the positive is key. Reflecting on these experiences reminds me of what’s truly important, even when I miss my family & New England, & the farm.
Parenthood will continue to be an awfully big adventure, especially with the specter of the ticking alligator trailing behind.
