Once upon a time, as Eve and I waited for her chemo to magically appear, a social worker stopped by for a visit. The portable DVD player had Snow White on repeat and Eve danced around the room singing to birds and running from the evil eyes in the forest, much like her royal pale-skinned counterpart in the film.
"Has anyone talked to you about Make-A-Wish yet?"
Oh my God. My kid is dying. I'm finding out from the social worker.
"It's not for just terminal kids!" she added before the rest of the color drained from my face. "It's for any child who has a life-threatening illness."
Whew. Thankfully my kid only has a life-threatening illness.
It used to be for kids who were dying. Now, more kids are surviving diseases like cancer than they were thirty years ago. And once you hit two-and-a-half, you are eligible to make your wish.
Eve's princess antics made the social worker think we might be interested in going to Disney. Eve, what's your wish? "I wish purple!"
Over the summer, Eve's wishmakers came to our house bringing presents and cupcakes to figure out what Eve's wish might be. Given that she was only two, had been house-bound for the better part of a year, and had consequently memorized the entire Disney library in all her free time, we opted for a trip to Orlando. This was done without the children's knowledge; I am not mentally equipped to field "HOW MANY MORE DAYS UNTIL WE GO TO DISNEY?!?" more than once a day.
So it was decided the secret would be kept until four days before we were scheduled to leave. There was a lot of s-p-e-l-l-i-n-g going on in the kids' presence during those preceding months and finally we could almost talk openly about the big mouse.
The night of Eve's Wish-Granting Party came at last. "The cupcake ladies are back! And they have BALLOONS!!!"
My kids will never forget you if you bring them cupcakes.
Pizza! Princess Plates! Punch! Are you listening, people?? PUNCH! And it wasn't even a baby shower! (Note to self: buy some sherbet. Drink more punch. Make everyday a party.)
Eve got a rolling princess backpack which just so happens to make a convenient carry-on item on an airplane. For the time being, it would be used to store a half-eaten slice of pizza, an empty punch cup, and a cat.
More presents were bestowed onto the children. The girls got princess-themed gifts. Daniel also got a few things, among them a pair of joke glasses. He now has the power to disguise himself whenever in an uncomfortable situation, like when I ask, "Who left this chewed up gum on the sofa?"
Oh wait, the chewed up gum was also a gift. I've got a little Jokey Smurf on my hands. I'm going to be way suspicious if he ever hands me a wrapped present.
And now I can't figure out which kid I'm yelling at when they keep passing around the glasses.
We convened to the couch and the wishmakers told the kids we were going somewhere better than Marbles, the Nutcracker, and preschool. We were going to Disney World.
Then after some more silence, Natalie goes into shock. Eve exclaims, "We're going to Mickey Mouse's house!!" Daniel wants to know if we're going to Disney World...on Ice.
To get into a Disney mood, we play some games. There was a version of hot-potato, except we played it with Snow White's poisoned apple to the musical stylings of Foreigner.
The apple would be partially eaten by Eve and the rest would be stored with the cat in the princess backpack. I sure hope that cat is hungry.
Next up was find Cinderella's slipper, which happened to be hiding in our Christmas tree.
It took them a little while to find it. I think Mart Brent kept moving it.
To wrap the games up, we played Stick the Princess on the Castle, which is a much nicer version of Pin the Tail on the Donkey. Because I'll never understand why we would want to encourage our kids to mess around animals' hind parts.
And it's not a party unless there's cake. And how about an ice-cream cake with princesses?
Daniel refused to use the princess plates when it was pizza time, but put a piece of cake on one and he'd probably wear make-up.
I think the kids might dig this trip.
Well, it ain't purple, but it'll do.