Spoiler alert: It was magical. It was manic. I cried once, and somehow, we ended up with five plushies and a popcorn bucket that we didn’t need (they were happy tears and it was definitely more than once, the plushies needed a new home because they looked sad on the shelf and we absolutely did need the popcorn bucket – the popcorn needed to be eaten out of something). Oh yeah, and my ADHD brain came too. If you didn’t read my previous post introducing my ADHD brain, meet Rory. She’s the wild card in this story, and honestly, she made it unforgettable. But don’t tell her that (I heard you).
7:00 AM – The Calm Before the Storm
The toddler is already up. The 7 year old is hopping around singing the Encanto soundtrack. And the 10-year-old is asking if we can do Pirates of the Caribbean first. My partner hands me a cup of tea with the look of someone who has seen battle.
I’ve got a plan and I am determined to do Disney sensibly.
“SENSE IS BORING. Let’s run straight to the castle and cry under it. And also get popcorn. And Minnie ears. And that Loungefly we saw in that YouTube video six months ago.”
I try telling her to pipe down (oh honey, I’m just getting warmed up). Oh goodie!
9AM – Into the Magic
We made it through the gates. We are staying in a Disney Hotel so we get extra magic hours, but somehow we missed the first 35 minutes. The music hits. The castle appears. Everyone looks like they’ve had glitter for breakfast.
The kids are buzzing. I’m trying to take it all in. The toddler starts clapping, and I tear up.
“You’re crying already? GOOD. That means the magic is working. Buy the ears. Buy the matching ones for the kids. BUY EARS FOR THE BABY. Tiny ears. BABY EARS!”
We’ve been inside the park for five minutes, and I’ve already stared through every shop window in awe and told my partner “this is the best day of our lives” at least twice, and had to remind Rory that the baby is now a toddler. She doesn’t care.
11:00 AM – Queues, Quests, and Questionable Priorities
We’re in line for Pirate’s of thr Caribbean. Thirty five minutes. The kids are mostly calm. The toddler is with my partner trying to nap. I’m juggling snacks, a fan, and a park app.
“This is the PERFECT time to plan the rest of our lives. Should we move to Paris? Start a Disney vlog? Learn how animatronics work? INVENT A RIDE?? Also, why did we come on Pirate’s at ione of t’s busiest times? We know the best time is later on or first thing!”
I distract myself by trying to guess which ride has the best air conditioning, trying to spot hidden Mickey’s and mentally rehearsing my plan for fireworks positioning.
1:00 PM – Lunchtime Chaos
We find Colnel Hathi’s and divvy up pizza, Butter Chicken and chips. The toddler steals everyone’s food, even though she has her own. The 7 year old insists she wants an ice cream shaped like Mickey. The 10 year old is analysing the wait times like a theme park consultant and trys to change the list I meticulously prepared.
“Let’s order four desserts and eat them all and then go on Hyperspace Mountain and see what happens. Also, WHY is that popcorn bucket so shiny?? We might need it.”
I agree to one dessert and a Coca Cola so everyone has energy to get through the rest of the afternoon. Rory acts like she’s been deeply wronged.
My partner quietly removes the 14 napkins I hoarded “just in case” and lovingly hands me water. Me and Rory forgot to drink. Again.
4:00 PM – The Wobble
It’s hot. The toddler is dangerously close to a nap meltdown. The 7 year old has decided she does not like loud rides. The 10 year old is trying to reason with her. My partner is doing that “smile and wave boys” thing parents do in public.
“EVERYTHING IS HAPPENING. AND ALSO NOTHING. We should lie down. But also do Pirates of the Caribbean, again. But also find shade. But also, LOOK A SHOP!”
We found a spot near It’s a Small World. I lie the toddler down for a nap, put my sunglasses on, and give Rory a strict time out. My partner take the 7 year oldto the toilet for the 10th time today, and I just sit and breathe. It’s five minutes of peace. It’s everything.
5:00 PM – Round Two
The toddler has been asleep in the pushchair for about half an hour. The 7 year old has recovered and wants to meet a Princess. The 10 year old has made peace with skipping Pirates of the Caribbean as we had already done it once that day. We de
“THIS IS OUR TIME TO SHINE. Everything is calm. Let’s make poor decisions and buy matching t-shirts for no reason!”
The toddler wakes up as we get her out of the pushchair to ride It’s a Small World and once we are on, she waves at every doll and claps at every turn. Rory hums the song obsessively. She will not stop. She is now narrating my life in rhyme. I tell her to relax. She wants to find hidden Mickeys instead… while singing It’s a Small World
7:30 PM – The Merch Meltdown
The kids each get a treat. They have their own money and I’m trying to teach them how to spend it sensibly. Rory hears: “buy something from every themed land and definitely that expensive mug shaped like Cogsworth.”
My partner is visibly sweating at the till while I justify buying a £100 Loungefly and a pen I’ll probably never use.
“This is called retail therapy and it’s vital for our emotional wellbeing.”
Sure, Rory.
9:40 PM – Fireworks
We have the reserved viewing area booked, and we’ve somehow managed to get near the front of the queue and it’s getting busier by the minute. The kids are tired but excited. The toddler is in her pushchair, eyes desperate to stay awake. We’ve bagged a spot at the front. The lights dim. The music starts. The sky lights up. My 7 year old gasps and clasps her hands to her ears. My 10 year old actually goes quiet and does the same with his hands.
“This is why we do it. The chaos. The overstimulation. The meltdowns. The magic. All of it.”
And honestly? She’s right. My partner squeezes my shoulder, and I mistake this for a loving squeeze. Until he leans down and tells me that he’s been stung by a bee and that when the fireworks are over, I’m going to need to take the stinger out. It’s honestly so magical.
Final Thoughts from Rory
“Was it a sensory overload? Absolutely. Were we all exhausted? Yes. Did we eat nothing but chips and popcorn for 12 hours? Correct. But we laughed, we cried, we hugged a giant mouse, and we made memories. I wouldn’t change a thing.”
Would I do Disneyland Paris again with my partner, three kids, and Rory whispering chaos in my ear? Yes. In a heartbeat. But next time I’m packing more snacks, a double sized portable charger, some emotional support chocolate for the queue, and I’m saving even more spending money.
Xx
NikkiEverAfter1923 
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