I feel like I'm writing an entry to my teenage diary. Except, that the problems I will describe are a lot more complex, the characters that line the stage are a lot stranger, and the scene for all the action is one that we would never expect to find problems at any level. And I mean any.
So just about a month ago, the family traveled to DisneyWorld. Hubby and I were looking forward to this trip immensely, with built-up memories of trips taken during our childhood lining our expectations like snack crumbs to the back seat of my car. We amped up the anticipation for the kids by introducing 6 pink flamingos that, one by one, "visited" our front yard 12 days before departure, and departed one by one until the day we departed. We got t-shirts with Mickey and Minnie on them, and gave ourselves fun names on these shirts. We got Mickey water bottles, sunscreen, clothes packed enough to allow at least 2 changes of clothing a day, anticipating the heat we'd hit when we got to Florida.
We got there, and the excitement was not unequal to the scenery of the whole World before our eyes. Going through the gates of Disney World, seeing the Mickey and Minnie topiary that first day, our kids' eyes were the wide with anticipation. The heat, yes, was there - but we could navigate it. We had meals all lined up, so that we wouldn't be stuck with the problems of having the same hot dogs night after night in exhausted frustration. We expected the Disney utopia to envelope us, from the moment we set foot off the plane until the moment we came back onto the plane to go home. It was to be a full-on, all-out, Disney-to-the-nines experience.
The parks were great. The staff was great. The characters (bless their heat-laden costumed hearts) were great. The heat - well, what'dya expect in July, in Florida, in a world of asphalt? The food...
Now, I knew going there that the kids' food would be geared towards a status quo, and I did not expect to see a chef-whipped 2-pager everywhere we went. I didn't expect to see foie (ha!) as one of the optional sides, alongside seared whatever and lightly-dressed baby field greens (double, triple ha!). I didn't expect to see more options outside of the usual dogs/nuggets/grilled cheese/cheeseburgers/mac and cheese. The sides were a great balance though - apple slices, carrots, and they kept the fries optional. And Epcot Center was definitely the place to go for such a great range of options for little ones to try foods outside of the usual line-up (udon, tacos, salmon, fish and chips, even sneak in a little shawarma).
But - what I really did not expect to see, was that a regular-sized beverage at any counter would be, basically, a liter-sized container. Most of the places were all-you-can-eat. The first thing offered when you sit down to eat at most of the places was their special (sugar-laiden) pomegranate lemonade, not water. Couple these factors with the number of overweight children I saw walking slowly through the parks (granted, yes, it's damn hot), with liter-sized fountain drink in hand (my assumptions take over here that these were fountain drinks of soda, not water), overweight parents not far behind in scooters (you wanted a kid, but would then sacrifice your level of energy to keep up with them AND their health in turn?) - left me, quite frankly, sick to my stomach.
Searching through my memory database, I didn't remember so many children being overweight. Not at Disney World. This was supposed to be the utopian world formed by one man's vision, enjoyed by the world over, right? Maybe my version of utopia is screwed up, but somehow it was filled with people who were active, kids who looked like kids and had energy like kids - and not sized the width of *overweight* 20/30somethings with a geriatric energy level sipping some level of liquid energy to help them take that next step. Sick to my stomach and sad, alas - I realized, at least, where I did NOT want my kids to end up in their health. Here's to hoping.
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