We got married at Walt Disney World.
We spent nine days there. Rope dropped every park. Stayed until fireworks. Walked 20,000 steps a day. We did everything — every ride, every parade, every show. We bought hats, mugs, shirts, ears. Back then, it all felt affordable. Or maybe we just didn’t think too much about it.
I planned that trip five months in advance. Spreadsheets. Ride research. Restaurant reservations. FastPass bookings exactly 60 days out. Even our wedding photos were scheduled between park strategies.
We maximized it.
And it was magical.
When we talked about going back with our daughter, I hesitated.
Not because I didn’t want to go.
Because I didn’t know if it would make sense.
Disney is expensive. I don’t mind paying for something meaningful. What I struggle with is paying for something we can’t fully use.
A five-year-old doesn’t walk 20,000 steps. She doesn’t skip naps. She doesn’t ride roller coasters. She doesn’t power through until fireworks.
When she was younger, our life ran on strict schedules — nap time, meal time, bedtime. Disney requires flexibility. Long lines. Loud shows. Big emotions.
If we can’t do everything, is it worth it?
Two years ago, when she had just turned four, I almost took her to Disney World.
I had it planned. Animal Kingdom Lodge — the one where you can see animals from the balcony. A few hotel days just to swim. One park day at Animal Kingdom. A character dining at Chef Mickey’s, just like we did years ago. I even wanted to go back to Seabreeze, where we got married.
That same year, I had an international work trip and brought the whole family along. It was a big trip. A meaningful one. And expensive.
So I canceled Disney.
I had only planned one park day anyway. I couldn’t justify the ticket price for more.
It didn’t feel like the right time.
Then I learned something that changed everything.
Disneyland is smaller.
Two parks right next to each other. Walkable. Less transportation. Less 20,000-step marathons.
It felt manageable.
Not smaller magic. Just resized magic.
For the first time, I felt excited instead of anxious.
Maybe this was the version of Disney that fit us right now.
I started planning about a month before our February trip.
I opened a spreadsheet and listed every ride in Disneyland Park and Disney California Adventure. (I explain exactly how I filtered rides in this planning guide →)
Then I watched POV videos of almost all of them.
I crossed off the scary ones. Haunted Mansion. Pirates. Roller coasters. Anything with witches. Even Star Wars — my favorite — didn’t make the cut at first.
There were similar rides too. Dumbo or Astro Orbitor. Jungle Cruise or Storybook Land Canal Boats. I chose one from each.
Two days felt precise and manageable.
On our first morning, we walked toward Disneyland Park with everyone else.
It felt like a factory at rush hour, everyone streaming toward work — but with balloons and Mickey ears.
After security and ticket scanning, we stepped inside.
The train station stood in front of us, flowers arranged perfectly, a giant Mickey smiling above. Families were already taking pictures. The castle glowed at the end of Main Street.
It was as beautiful as I remembered.
My husband lifted his camera the way he did years ago. He once filmed me turning the corner and seeing the castle for the first time as a bride.
Now he filmed our daughter.
For a second, I forgot about rope drop.
Disney. I can’t believe we’re back.
And then I remembered our plan.
We didn’t stop for photos.
I wanted to.
But Peter Pan’s Flight was our priority. It doesn’t take Lightning Lane. The line is always long. I thought if we hurried, we would save time.
If I had already bought Lightning Lane for something else, maybe I would have felt less rushed.
But I chose the ride.
By the time we reached it, the wait time said 30 minutes.
Other rides were showing five.
We joined the line anyway.
It was our first ride. First day. She didn’t complain. She was excited just to be there.
And then it was our turn.
We step into the boat.
The bar lowers.
We lift.
Suddenly we are flying over London.
Dark sky. Tiny golden windows. The bridge. Big Ben. A rainbow over the waterfall.
It is so beautiful.
My daughter whispers “woo…” under her breath, like she doesn’t want to break it.
Her eyes are wide. She’s smiling, but also stunned.
And I think, this really is the most magical place in the world.
Alice and the Mad Hatter appeared out of nowhere and hosted a tea party while we waited for Casey Jr. Circus Train. I liked those random moments more than the scheduled meet-and-greets.
She wanted princesses.
We stood in a line of little princesses — all sparkling, twirling, smiling, bouncing.
She was wearing her Snow White dress that day. We were hoping to see Snow White, though I had already explained that the princesses there were random and we might not.
We didn’t see her.
Later that night, I heard someone say, “Look, there’s Snow White.”
I started turning my head, searching for the real one.
The parents smiled at my daughter.
“It’s you,” they said. “You’re Snow White.”
I laughed.
Delighted.
Later, she asked me if Buzz was real or just someone in a costume.
“What do you think?” I asked.
Back at Disney World, Millennium Falcon run was my favorite ride. We waited almost two hours for it.
I hadn’t planned to do it this time. This trip was about family magic, and I had crossed off all the Star Wars rides during planning.
But when we checked the app and saw the wait time was only 15 minutes, my husband said, “You should go.”
We walked together into Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edge.
The music changed. The buildings shifted. The air felt different.
It was late afternoon and quieter than I expected.
My husband and daughter wandered around while I slipped into the single rider line for Millennium Falcon: Smugglers Run.
The ship roared. Lights flashed. I got assigned gunner again, just like years ago.
When we jumped to hyperspace, the streaking lights still made me grin.
Nostalgic. Excited.
I was out in almost no time.
My husband looked surprised at how fast I returned.
We found Chewbacca wandering nearby and ran over. I told him again, just like years ago, “You’re so tall.”
He tilted his head and gave a happy “aww,” just like last time.
Before leaving that night, we let her play in Goofy’s How-To-Play Yard.
No lines. No calculations.
Pluto wandered through and played with the kids.
She ran freely.
After a day of waiting, it felt good to just breathe.
On the way out, she saw a sleeping Minnie and asked for it.
It was the only thing she asked for all day.
Back in the hotel room, she lifted it up proudly to show us.
And then, just as quickly, she fell asleep.
The room was quiet.
The next morning, we crossed over to Disney California Adventure.
There were Lunar New Year decorations everywhere. Red lanterns. Banners. Music. It truly felt like Lunar New Year.
We headed to Radiator Springs Racers.
The line was long. I was glad we had bought the single Lightning Lane.
But what stayed with me wasn’t the race.
It was the beginning.
The car moved slowly past golden rock formations, the sky wide and open. It felt like a scenic drive, almost peaceful.
Without thinking, I started singing “Golden California…”
Then I realized there were people sitting behind us.
I laughed and stopped.
Soon the car slid into a garage. Lights dimmed. Engines roared. Another car pulled up beside us.
“They changed our tires,” my husband said. “We’re racing now.”
The hill dropped.
My heart suspended for a second.
She didn’t flinch.
She was just as excited as he was.
The only ride she asked to do again was Soarin’ Around the World.
After we landed the first time, she said, “That was so much fun. I want to do it again.”
It was the only ride during the entire trip she said that about.
So we went back later that night.
When the ride ended, my husband and I grabbed one of her hands each.
“We’re flying,” we said, lifting her up between us.
We did it again in the hallway.
And again outside the building.
For a few minutes, we were still in the air.
There was the Disney Junior Dance Party! that afternoon.
At first, we sat in the back.
Then the music started, and kids began moving toward the front.
I asked her if she wanted to stay with us or go up there.
At first she said stay.
Then she changed her mind.
She walked forward on her own.
I sat in the back and watched her bounce with the other kids.
I felt proud.
One year ago, that would not have happened.
She wore her Elsa dress that morning. I had told her we would see Elsa.
We waited in a line of little Elsas.
When it was finally our turn and we turned the corner, it was Anna.
For a split second, I felt disappointed.
She didn’t.
She looked calm. More ready than the day before. She talked more. Held hands. Smiled.
On the way out, I told her, “Elsa went to Disney World today. We’ll see her next time there.”
She nodded.
That evening, we found the Redwood Creek Challenge Trail near Grizzly River Run.
It was dark. Quiet. Surrounded by trees.
We climbed rope bridges and wooden platforms under the night sky.
It felt calm.
Like something we would do on a regular vacation.
A separate pocket of space inside the chaos.
Before World of Color, there was a short Lunar New Year water show.
Lanterns. Warm music. Cultural stories. A gentle build to small fireworks.
It was just the right length.
I liked that one more than I expected.
Then came World of Color.
Bright lasers. Loud music. Emotions projected across water.
It felt like a concert.
I’m not really into concerts.
My legs were sore from standing still. My mind felt overstimulated.
After it ended, we walked back with the crowds.
If you want to add a third day to your ticket, you have to decide before the park closes.
At that moment, I knew.
We had done everything we planned to do.
Spending more money would not bring more magic.
It would only bring more exhaustion.
So we didn’t add a third day. (Here’s how we thought about ticket value and cost →)
The next morning, we went to Huntington Beach.
The weather was colder. Windier. The sky gray instead of bright.
We walked along the shore. She collected shells for her friends. Seagulls here looked different from the ones back home.
We walked to the end of the pier and looked out at the Pacific.
Strong waves. Wind. Quiet.
After two days of lights and music, the gray sky felt right.
For a moment, I thought about going back to Downtown Disney one more time.
But by the end of the day, I was too relaxed.
The idea of stepping back into the noise didn’t pull me.
We bought a seashell magnet.
It now sits next to the castle magnet on our fridge.
On the flight home, I found myself looking up Disney World dates.
I wasn’t planning the next trip.
I was just curious. 🙂