No meltdowns. From anyone. A Christmas Miracle.
Now to a "typical" family, our outing may have seemed a little dull. To us, it was glorious.
We're learning. I'm learning.
Here's the thing: there are few things I love more than planning fun vacations for our family. Our getaways tend to be long weekends, and I do my best to plan them carefully to get the most out of our time away. My mantra is Maximum Fun.
I used to take pride in my careful preparations. (Hell, I still do.) When Big Bro was three, I timed our Breakfast with Pooh so we'd be out in time to be at the velvet rope when the Magic Kingdom opened. It was our last day and we had a 2 pm flight. So when they dropped the rope, I took off! I sprinted down Main Street, USA, with my son in the stroller, whooping and clapping. My husband, who didn't understand the deal, jogged behind me and whined.
"Mel! What are you doing? Why are you running?"
"My baby is getting on the Peter Pan ride ONE MORE TIME!"
I'm MaxiMom, the female version of Clark Griswold. (And if you know anything about Clark Griswold, you know it all goes wrong.)
I was forgiven for my mad dash down Main Street, USA, but that was before The Boy was born. The Boy doesn't hold with such planning.
The best laid plans of MaxiMom oft go astray--like the time I spent a fortune on zoo tickets, and he only wanted to look at the pigeons.
Or the time we went camping at the beach, and the boy and I fell into a cactus.
Or the time he yanked out his tooth and flashed his junk to the people in the hotel.
Or the time he had a meltdown in Chocolate World and threw my purse into the ride.
Or the time he did a Code Brown in the hotel pool and then cried because they had to close the pool because of said Code Brown.
Or the time he had such an awful meltdown in the car that my friend passed me a flask of bourbon and I actually drank some.
Or the time at Eastern State Penitentiary when EVERYONE was bitching about everyone else, and I wanted to lock them all up in Al Capone's cell and go get a beer.
That's usually how our trips go. But not this time. This time I didn't worry about whether my kids had gone on enough rides for me to feel like we got our money's worth. We didn't push. We kept him regulated. For example, after two back-to-back roller coaster rides, we chilled out on the monorail. He got a little upset when his favorite ride was closed, but we substituted another, and everyone was happy.
We plied them with ice cream.
P.S. Hershey Park is wonderfully accommodating with special needs, so if you're thinking about going, I'd highly recommend it. Any bad experiences we had in the past were our own damn fault.
Oh, and neither Hershey nor Troeg's is paying me for this review. But I wouldn't say no to free tickets and beer! (Ahem!)