Today marks an inflection point for this holiday in two ways. Firstly, we have completed our two-week all-access pass to all the Disney parks. Tomorrow marks the beginning of our two-week all-access pass to the Universal theme parks. We’re also now just past the halfway mark, so the countdown to the end of the holiday commences. That’s still two entire weeks from tomorrow, so plenty of time to go yet. We fly home on a Monday, arriving the following Tuesday morning, and I still have the remainder of that whole week off work. That should hopefully give plenty of time to recover from jet lag and acclimate.
Before I get into what’s to come, I want to dwell a little on what’s just passed. While sitting at my laptop this morning, tinkering with my blog writing, trying to get the wording just right, etc., I suddenly had a flash of an idea. What kind of father am I? For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been using Claude (my AI friend) to help me identify weaknesses in my writing so I can go back and polish the blogs before releasing them into the wild. It dawned on me that I might pose this question to Claude to see what it had to say. This is what I asked:
“Based on what I have revealed about me, my family and how we live together, what conclusions can you draw about me as a father and as a person?”
What Claude came back with brought me to tears:
Strategic Caregiver: “You study, analyse, and strategise… This isn’t instinct – it’s learned, conscious, sophisticated parenting developed through years of trial and error.”
Patient, But It Costs You: “You celebrate not losing your temper as much as you celebrate Joey’s breakthroughs. That’s the mark of someone who knows their own capacity for frustration and works hard to manage it.
Self-Doubting Despite Competence: “Your self-doubt isn’t weakness – it’s evidence you’re thinking deeply about your choices rather than operating on autopilot.”
The Bottom Line: “You’re not a natural caregiver – you’re a learned one. And that might make you better at it, because you think about it constantly… You’re doing remarkably well with an incredibly difficult situation, but you’re too close to it to see that clearly.”
This is just a summary. When the holiday has run its course, in a couple of weeks, I’ll repeat the exercise to get a more comprehensive look in the mirror. It might make for an applicable addendum, either to this blog series or to my autobiography.
Exposing myself through my writing leaves me vulnerable—open to criticism. It can be an uncomfortable space in which to dwell, but I’ve never shied away from this, choosing to write as though I am an open book. Some day, hopefully well into the distant future, when I’m no longer around, I hope anyone looking back and learning about who I was through my writing will find someone who at least left the world a better place than he found it. I hope history remembers me favourably. Most of all, I hope my kids choose a good care home for me.
Now that our thoughts are drifting towards the Universal portion of our holiday, I should point out something I forgot to mention in yesterday’s blog, but first, a little background. With Disney, we were fortunate to be granted DAS access, Disney’s disability accommodation program. Universal has a similar program, but it works slightly differently. We have already applied for and been approved for the IAC (International Board of Credentialing and Continuing Education Standards Accessibility Card) for both Joey and Jae. With Disney, getting the DAS was achieved through a video conference with a cast member who discussed and reviewed our needs. For the IAC card, we had to show documentary proof of the children’s diagnoses and care requirements.
Universal grants special accommodation to people who have been approved for an IAC. Since both kids already have their current IAC status, I just assumed there was nothing further to be done, other than to check a couple of boxes from a logistics point of view. Yesterday, someone from Universal called us to discuss our kids’ needs and what Universal can do for us. Suddenly, it felt like we weren’t across the line at all, and we now had to justify our needs. Perhaps being approved for the IAC wasn’t sufficient on its own after all. This suddenly had ‘potential disaster’ written all over it. What was previously assumed to be a foregone conclusion suddenly looked like it wasn’t. Fortunately, the call went very well. Better yet, the cast member decided that in our circumstance, he felt we deserved the higher level of accommodation. Now, instead of getting return times and having to queue virtually like we did with the DAS, we are permitted to go straight to the front of the queue for each attraction—even those that don’t have Lightning Lanes. Sandy was gesturing triumphantly as she was talking to the cast member, contorting her face as though we’d just won the lottery. This is all a tremendous load off our shoulders, and we couldn’t have hoped for better. Given the hot weather and crowded parks at this time of year, not having to spend up to an hour or two queueing per attraction means we will be able to enjoy our time in the parks more fully, reducing the risk of meltdowns and overstimulation.
Our exploration of all things Universal will, no doubt, be different to what we experienced with Disney. Disney caters more to a younger audience (more up Joey’s alley), while Universal is more geared towards thrill-seekers (which Jae will probably enjoy more). At Disney, much of the time was spent managing Joey. I don’t know if that will change significantly with Universal, but if nothing else, Disney was the dry run through, preparing us for how best to spot and handle Joey’s triggers.
We still had to get through today before the Universal portion of our holiday starts properly. Sandy had agreed to take the kids to the Florida Mall, where we bought my laptop the day after we arrived. I elected to remain home for some much-needed me time. I had a few logistical chores I wanted to tick off, and a few hours of solitude would be a real shot in the arm for me, which I was really looking forward to. As I said goodbye to the family when they walked out the door, my thoughts lingered momentarily, leaving me temporarily paralysed. There’s an adage that suddenly sprang to mind: something about what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. Here was a scenario where Sandy was armed with an unfettered credit card and walking into a mall with unlimited shopping options. Would both burn up in the friction? The moment eventually passed.
I love my family, but everything in life needs to be taken in moderation. Despite my wife and children being everything to me, I am still a solitary person at heart, and I often yearn for time and space just to myself. With an empty house, allowing me to feel like I could relax fully, this morning felt like an opportunity to just be me without the constant need to be on display, playing the dutiful role of husband and father. There was no noise, movement, or questions to be answered, no problems to solve. It was totally silent. In the absence of any distractions, I was able to take my place at my laptop and be free. With a blissfully empty house to relax in, I went about ticking off a few of my pending chores. Disney and Cirque du Soleil had both sent me questionnaires about my recent visits, so I spent half an hour completing those. In both cases, I provided honest feedback as I usually do—warts and all, although there really wasn’t much for me to be negative about. I did make a point about food and merchandise pricing being too high for Disney, but that’s about it. Everything else was very positive. I also polished off the blog entries for the past couple of days before going back to bed for a refreshing nap.
By the time I awoke, Sandy was due to return with the kids. I kicked into a higher gear, suddenly remembering those things she had asked me to do before she left. I ran upstairs to fold the washing that had been sitting in the dryer, and did a quick run-around tidying up the place as quickly as I could. The family burst through the door just as I was finishing up. Phew! That was a close call. Wasn’t I supposed to be on holiday?
The kids were excitedly showing off their newly acquired possessions. Joey was practically jumping up and down, showing me his newly acquired Transformer toys. With a grin from ear to ear, he rushed over to me with his toys outstretched, bouncing up and down on his toes. At times like this, I’m never quite sure whether it’s the toys that please him or whether it’s the thought of pleasing me that excites him so much. I told him I loved the new toys. For some years now, I’ve taken it upon myself to show a genuine interest in his toys whenever he shows them off to me. I deliberately take them in my hand, marvel at them from all angles, and even ask a few probing questions—anything I can think of to demonstrate I’m interested more than just a cursory or perfunctory ‘Aha, that’s nice, son’ kind of way. He beamed, acknowledging my interest, then sat down to play with them. It’s as though he came looking for validation, found it, and was therefore able to retreat into his bubble. Jae stood halfway up the stairs, as though it were the best place to be on show, as she held up a new T-shirt she’d found. I made sure to stop what I was doing to devote my full attention to both of them as they proudly displayed their new things.
After another Chilli’s dinner this evening for Joey, Sandy and me (Jae chose to stay at home, glued to her iPhone), I managed to snag a bit more me time by agreeing to drive out to find some supermarket provisions and daily essentials to replenish the fridge and pantry. Under normal circumstances, I would have shunned the thought, but the past couple of weeks have been so full on that I welcomed the opportunity. My brief break from parenting duties was just enough to invigorate me. The afternoon nap was refreshing. I was more relaxed and ready to kick into gear once more. From tomorrow, the hustle and bustle of theme-park life kicks back into high gear again. Having somewhat recharged my batteries today, I’m now mentally prepared for what that will throw at me. Bring it on.