watching them grow up

We are going to Disneyland! Disneyland! Yay! Next week. We already bought our super-expensive five-day park hopper passes. One of the three grandmas is coming with us. We'll be staying at a nice, big, upscale timeshare resort about 30 minutes from the park. Disneyland! Can you tell I'm excited?

The last time we went was December 2007, just three weeks before our old Subaru was totaled on I-15 heading to Las Vegas. The boys were 11 and 8, and they'd never been to Disneyland before. Sam had recently broken his arm (monkey bars) and faded early each day since it really hurt. The Disneyland first aid folks fed him lots of free Tylenol when we ran out. Just yesterday he said, "Most of the rides are for little kids. Really there's only like ten good rides, and they're all really crowded." Perhaps his memory is slightly skewed by the pain and that royally huge cast.

Ethan was still deeply into Star Wars and plastic light sabers and make-believe games that did not involve knowing the minute differences between an AK-47 and an AK-74. (Seriously, his knowledge of WWII and modern weaponry is troubling at 13 years old.) For him, Disneyland was pure magic. Thus, it became again pure magic for me, too, looking at it all through his eyes. The highlight was the Jedi Training Academy, where he got to go one-on-one in a light saber duel against Darth Vader.

Now 13, Ethan is well beyond the Jedi Training Academy. He looks, acts, and talks like a middle schooler. I know that he'll still feel the magic of Disneyland--that's the type of person he is--but it won't be the same. Sam, however, may discover a bit of the magic he missed out on with his broken arm. I hope so.