Six Simple Steps for Never Spending a Cent in Disney World Again!

Disney World is known as the "happiest place on earth." And that's lovely, and all, but I imagine it's only the happiest place on earth if going there doesn't force you into foreclosure and untold debt. Sure, wearing sparkly Mickey ears and watching magical light parades and fireworks may be fun in the moment, but not when you end up having to pawn those Mickey ears in order to feed your now poverty-stricken family. Obviously, for many people, simple financial planning, a system of saving, and a little penny pinching here and there will go a long way to getting you on the Disney vacation of their dreams. Or maybe you already have boatloads of cash. Good for you! Get that week-long package deal with first class plane tickets, deluxe resort accommodations, high-end champagne and caviar dining packages, and a cadre of Disney-themed servant monkeys, or whatever it is you wealthy people do on vacation.

Watching the balloon go up and down. This
is free, so pretend it is fun.

But the rest of us still seek the silver bullet of going to Orlando on the cheap, and my friends, I have found it. My family went to Orlando this past week. We were less than 10 minutes away from the happiest place on earth. Our children emerged happy and delighted at the outcome of our vacation.

And we didn't spend a single cent on theme park tickets.

Yup. Not a cent. And I'll tell you our magical secret.

We have our children convinced that they do not want to go.

That's right. We have two little girls who grew up on a steady diet of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and Disney Princesses who have no desire to go to Disney World. These children, who treat the movie Frozen like it's their religion, did not once beg us to allow them access to the Magic Kingdom. How? Well, we're just about the smartest parents ever, that's how. And now I will share our trick with you.

1) Raise children with low tolerance for extreme temperatures, especially heat. Live in a place like Michigan. Experience a polar vortex or two. Your children will feel confused and betrayed by extreme heat. Sweat will terrify them. They will be convinced that they need to either go inside or die immediately. Encourage this. It will pay off later.

Convince your kids that when the sign says
that Disney World is "Where Dreams Come True,"
what it actually means by "dreams" is sweat-soaked,
agoraphobic nightmares. 

2) Create impatient children. In the age of technology and immediate gratification, this shouldn't be too hard. But just to be sure, make sure at least you or your spouse has an impatient temperament. You're sure to pass of this genetic predisposition to at least one of your children. I have enough impatience for the whole Morton clan, but the Anarchist also got her fair share.

3) Raise lazy children who hate moving around. I suggest video games and television, but you do whatever works for you and your family.

4) When you first enter the Orlando area, walk a long time and wait in a long line for something relatively boring.

5) When your dear offspring complain about how awful and unbearable the heat is, and how they're probably going to die from all the walking and standing, and how they are entitled to somehow never, ever have to wait in lines, say this:

"I don't think you'd like Disney World very much, then. The lines are even longer than this, you have to walk everywhere, and it's SO HOT."

TIP: Don't mention the various forms of transportation, Fast Pass access, or indoor attractions at Disney. What they don't know won't hurt them.

6) Pray that your child responds like my Dictator did:

"Yeah. You're right. That sounds awful. I don't think I would like Disney World very much. Maybe when I'm older."

And then just take advantage of your hotel pool, which my kids claimed was the most fun thing they'd ever done in their lives. Yup.  Free swimming. I am like, the most brilliant cheapskate mom, ever.

Have a "character meet and greet" with the
Seven Dwarfs (statues outside of the Lego Store).
Or maybe pretend this is a sort of mine ride. Have
your kids jump up and down to simulate the
vertical motion of a roller coaster. Neato.

"But why on earth would you go to Orlando, if you weren't going to a theme park?" you ask. Well, our family went for a dance convention. I don't know why you would do such a thing, it sounds kind of insane to me, but if you find yourself stuck in Orlando with no money (maybe you're there for the National Kung Fu Convention? No. For real, they have those*), I really think you should try convincing your kids that they would hate Disney World.

Mine sure hate it. And they've never even been there. But I'll tell you one more thing, when I finally get a big-kid job, my first order of business is to plan the most funnest of all times Disney World vacations. Because I know how magical it is, and I so badly want a pair of those sparkly Mickey ears. And maybe I'll even splurge on some servant monkeys.



BACKUP PLAN: If your kids are very young, or very naive, maybe you can convince them that Downtown Disney is a theme park. Buy them some mouse ears, stand around watching the hot air balloon go up and down, maybe splurge on a carousel ride, and have lunch at a themed restaurant. We went to T-Rex and had a great time. We probably could have convinced the kids that it was "Prehistoric Land" or something, but that just didn't seem honest. And we're nothing if not honest.

The Dictator and I enjoy a meal
at what shall henceforth be known as
"Prehistoric Land," the newest (fake)
Disney theme park.

*The ambulance was at our hotel multiple times. I'm convinced that this was because people were Kung Fu-ing each other to death. They carry around real live weapons! In a resort! Hard core.

How To Be The Bestest Dance Mom EVER

By now, you've all at least heard of the TV reality show about dance moms, with its horrifically insulting teacher and its pushy, emotional dance moms. If you have little dancers at home, you might have also noticed the dance world's response to this portrayal of dance studios, dancers, and their parents. "Real dance moms aren't anything like that!" insist the rest of us. This horrible show is giving real, supportive, nurturing parents who happen to be raising little dancers a bad name.

"Oh, Mom! You're so
calm and stress-free!"
says the Dictator, never.

As someone who has just emerged from almost a week surrounded by exclusively dance moms, I can promise you that this is true. The vast majority of dance moms are kind, mature, supportive, friendly, helpful, and not too aggressively obsessed with their sons' or daughters' dance skills, scores, or status. But, as someone who has just emerged from almost a week surrounded by exclusively dance moms, I can also promise you that a tiny, little, minuscule bit of icky, bad, nasty dance mom probably exists somewhere in the darkest, most shadowy recesses of most of us, just waiting to claw its unwelcome self out at our most vulnerable, stress-filled moments.* These are the moments when we can point to the exploitative reality show and say, with great relief, "Well, at least I'm not as bad as those dance moms."

Nevertheless, most of us would prefer that this ugly dance-mom demon never once rears its ugly head. The trick, of course is to remain invulnerable and utterly stress-free. Which, of course, is like, the easiest thing in the world for yours truly. Having achieved a constant Zen-like state of meditative calm, and a transcendent selflessness that allows me to feel nothing but good thoughts for all of humanity, pretty much all of the time, especially in traffic, I am clearly the one to provide sage wisdom to all other dance moms. Especially when you consider my whopping three whole years of navigating the competitive dance world. Yeah. I'm your guy. Prepare to be blown away, people. I am here to de-Dance Mom-ify you us. You're welcome.*

1) Be kind to everyone. The dance moms on TV are really only nice to each other when they want something. Which isn't very nice at all. When we spend so much time with the same people under stressful conditions, sometimes the stressed-out unkindness wants to slip out, whether it be to the little hooligan who just body-slammed your precious ballerina, the other dance mom who wants to remind you about how fantastic her child is, or the teacher who doesn't seem to be giving your kid adequate attention. But I've found I regret about 99% of the unkindness that I have ever let slip. Because little hooligan body-slammer might very well have been provoked by precious ballerina, other braggy dance mom is probably just relieved, proud, and excited (which is wonderful, right?), and how the heck do I know how much attention my kid is/isn't getting (unless I'm peering sideways through the slats of the blinds on the dance room, which I'm totally not...I swear)? Plus, if there's one thing this world needs more of, it's kindness. And also narwhals. The world needs more of those, too.

The Bureaucrat:
an awe-inspiring dance dad.

2) Be like the dance dads. There are so many amazing dance dads out there. We have one at our studio who keeps bobby pins in his wallet. I can only aspire to be like him. The best thing about dance dads (besides their awe-inspiring dads' dances) is that they are always there when their kids need them, and completely out of the way when they don't. They don't hover, fuss, worry, stress, complain, push, give helpful dance advice, direct the teachers, or take things personally. Now hovering, fussing, worrying, stressing, and the like are inherent to who we moms are. We can't help it. We just care so much. But maybe we can tone it down a bit. Because if there's one piece of advice that my darling Dictator gave me over the weekend that I can share with you all it's, "Mo-om! I know! Just go away!"

"Great, Dictator! Now hold your head up.
Realign those hips. Pull that leg up. Smile!
No! Don't roll your eyes...how am I going to
get an impressive picture if you're rolling your
eyes? NO! Don't walk away in a huff!
I'm not done yet! I need to post this picture
on social media to get a thousand likes and
boost my self-esteem! Dictator! Come back!"

3) It's not about you. It's about them. We dance moms love to say this, "It's not about us. It's about them. We're here for the kids." But let's be realistic, it's at least a little bit about us. We mostly say this to make it true through the saying of it, like a mantra. We so badly want it to be true, but if we are being realistic, we are spending bajillions of dollars on dance/costumes/competitions/make-up/shoes. This is an investment. And we want it to be worth it. It's not unfair that we have some personal stake in how hard our kids work, how much fun they have, and whether or not they succeed. Also, we care about our children so much that we often identify with them. This is super maternal of us, and is therefore okay and natural...mostly.

The problem is, it's hard for us to step back, draw a neat line at a rational point between where our interests end and theirs begin. We tend to get all bound up, not only in their successes, but their status, their social lives, and the million other things that
happen when we start living vicariously through our children. For example, I need to stop caring about if the other moms like me. It doesn't matter. I'm there for the Dictator. (But maybe I can make them all like me, anyway? That would be so pleasant....I'm very nice. And also maybe if the Dictator could just push herself a little harder and get her splits. And honestly, why does she keep sickling her foot? Dear heavens, what is that about?!  But it's not about me. It's about her. Obviously.)

The Dictator puts on the
shoes I totally remembered to
pack for recital. Stand in awe of
my remembery-ness.

4) Never forget anything. Ever. Not a single bobby pin, not a can of hairspray, not one pair of tights, not a sparkly hairpiece. Nothing. Ever. Not even if you have ten billion costumes and no organizational method aside from a series of plastic baggies and a giant plastic bin (it works, I swear!). Not even then. Super easy. You can totally do it.

5) If you fail to execute tip number 4, please see tip number 1. Hopefully, you have flawlessly executed tip number 1, so that you have created a culture of kindness in which there are numerous lovely souls from whom you can beg/borrow/steal that extra safety pin/mascara. If both tip number 4 and tip number 1 have proven themselves problematic, please see tip number 2. Find the nearest dance dad and send him to the drugstore for some mascara ASAP.

6) Be a model of good performance etiquette. Lead by example.

I'm still adjusting from a strict upbringing of hyper-sophisticated performance etiquette regulations: Don't cough. Don't rustle your program. Don't breathe. Don't. Move. A. Muscle. I do really well in super-serious opera houses, orchestra halls, and the like. I get really upset when ignorant Aunt Mable unwraps her cough drop mid-pas-de-deux.

But I gather that performance etiquette is a bit difference for twelve-hour competitions than it is for real performances. For example, people get up and down, necessarily talk a bit, and occasionally have to check phones for important messages. But this doesn't mean we get to turn into thoughtless idiots. Try not to stand in front of the people behind you for any extended period of time. Clap like a crazy person for every number, even the ones you don't love. Don't shove small children over in an effort to get backstage to help with a costume quick change. Things like that. It's for the good of humanity, I promise. (And I hereby vow not to let the Anarchist make cat noises that are too, too loud during your daughter's quiet and intense lyrical solo...at least, I'll try.)

"Mo-om! I know! Just go away!!"

7) It's not their fault. It's not your fault that I didn't organize my costume pieces adequately and am now missing one zebra print glove. It's not the Dictator's fault that I average four hours of sleep a night, and am now so irritable that the sound of her hair rustling against her neck fills me with rage. And it's no one's fault but my own that I didn't get up early enough to drink my cup of coffee before I left the house for the competition, and now I have a half-filled travel cup of Starbucks, a withdrawal headache, and a brand new coffee stain on the Dictator's sparkly costume. So why am I curt to the nearest innocent bystanders, angry with the Dictator, and complaining bitterly about the person who scheduled her group to dance so early? Because I love scapegoats, that's why. And I suspect that I'm not the only one. So if I accidentally whip a bottle of hair gel at your face in a fit of fury, please know that it's not your fault...and that I'm working on it.

8) Appreciate the dance teachers. Getting one precious child ready stresses me out. Teachers are responsible for multiple dancing people. The hyper ones, the moody ones, the daydreamy ones, the bossy ones, the shy ones. All of the little dancing people. Also, they have deal with all of the dancing people's parents. The hyper ones, the moody ones, the daydreamy ones, the bossy ones, the shy ones...you get the idea. These teachers are saints, I think. Appreciate them, because one day they will see more of your children than you do.

9) Adopt some extreme meditative practice/spiritual discipline that will allow you to transcend/banish all of your stress/fear/tension so that you can achieve the spiritual state of Dance Mom Yogi or somesuch.  That will make all of these other tips happen so easily. You will be able to remember hairnets, say kind things to other people while under extreme duress, give your dancer his/her space without concern for the security of his/her costume, get through the day without so much as a cup of tutu-destroying coffee, etc. Actually, don't do that. If you are that good at being a dance mom, it will be a little creepy. And then we will have a really hard time not being afraid of you. And then you will have caused us to fail at tip number 1. And then you will not be a team player. And you want to be a team player, don't you?

I love mine, too! I haven't even
forced them into indentured servitude, or
fed them questionable apples. Score!

10) Love your dancer. Hooray! Something we already do (unless you are an evil Disney villain stepmother, in which case, maybe this is the tip you can really focus on). And of course, recognize that every other dance mom loves her dancer, too. It just might look a little bit different. Some will be more intense than you. Others will be less intense. Some more organized or on-time. Some less. Some will seem more critical. Others will seem cheerfully oblivious. But, unless you see a dance mom offering her precious dancer a poisoned apple, or making her scrub the floors while wearing rags and singing to rats and birds, it's probably safe to assume that she loves her dancer just as much as you love yours. And so now we can all just link arms and sing Kumbaya and be nothing like those dance moms on TV.

Unless you forgot your bobby pins. Because then you just ruined the whole competition for everyone. And I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to throw a shrill, screaming fit. Probably while weeping. Because that's extra dramatic. And maybe I'll whip a bottle of hair gel at your face. Just for effect. And then maybe they'll put my dramatic self on TV. And I'll be a star! But it's not about me. It's about my dancer. Obviously.**

*For moms, a moment or two of human weakness and irritability is totally normal and nothing to be alarmed about. However, if you ever notice any of your child's dance teachers regularly behaving in the manner of reality show dance teacher, She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named...flee! There are so many good dance teachers out there who are kind and respect their students. Find the nearest one and hand your child over. It's for the good of your dancer the universe. 

**I also neglected to mention the very important tip: have boatloads of money. Even if you have a nice dance studio that keeps costs low (like ours does) boatloads of money are still useful when it comes to paying for costumes, competition entries, pictures, workshops, t-shirts, shoes, tights, makeup, solos, programs, the endless snacks your ravenous dancer will want to consume, crystal-encrusted hairbows, hairspray, etc. If you don't have boatloads of money, become an enthusiastic fundraiser. So far, I have failed at both having boatloads of money and fundraising boatloads of money. I mean, I was an English major, so this is to be expected. Nevertheless, I urge other dance moms out there to do what I cannot, and be super-filthy-rich. Maybe have a yacht or something. It will make you better at this, I promise. Or else really love selling cookie dough door-to-door. I hear that works, too.