Writer’s Block? Try a Haunted House.

We did the craziest thing last week.  We took the kids to Disney.  We had a few days off from work and instead of kicking back, doing a few projects around the house, hosting the fam for Thanksgiving, meeting my #NaNoWriMo goals… we piled three kids, a Bob stroller (or, “stroder”, as one of the kids says), three suitcases packed two-times too full, two full-sized snuggly blankets, a cooler full of milk, two 24 ounce coffees in “to-go” mugs, eighteen stuffed animals and five backpacks into the family car and drove 13 hours through the night to Florida.  There was no partridge and no pear tree… but we did see a bald eagle and a bunch of palm trees. I think that counts.

As we pulled out of the driveway at 4:00pm, only two hours later than we had hoped to depart, I looked at my husband and said, “no matter what happens, remember that I love you.”  And off we went.

We’re cool and young and all, so we didn’t stop for a hotel.  We didn’t really stop for anything, except for gas every 472 miles.  Not until we hit grandma’s house. Thirteen hours later.  We are pretty dumb.  I’ll chalk it up to being so young and cool.

I had great plans to type away as we drove and get a few thousand words in.  But for some reason, as the sun set and the road ahead began to look more like a video game than real life, I could find no inspiration.  I didn’t type a single word while en route.  I can blame some of this on the 400 rounds of “wheels on the bus”/”patty cake” mash-up that was the highlight of both South Carolina and Georgia, but it doesn’t account for my lack of progress in the other states we traversed.

Things didn’t get any better, from a writing perspective.  Disney was crowded— really, really crowded.  Everyone was there.  Literally.  We saw our neighbor at the pirate show.  Like the lady who lives half a mile from us… 891 miles away from home. She was not nearly as young and cool as us and flew her two children down on a non-stop 3-hour flight (such a party pooper), and then looked at us like we were deranged when she found out we didn’t.

We couldn’t get on any rides, save for the Mickey 3-D musical.  It was no big deal though, because my 13-month old threw her hands up in the air and yelled “weeee!!” every time Donald came on the screen and it reminded us all of riding a roller coaster.  We weren’t going to break it to her that the 3-D musical was not quite as cool as Space Mountain.  You know, the Space Mountain with the 220-minute wait.

As we stood in wall-to-wall people with the stroder, unable to move and thought about our trip…. the endless miles, getting rear-ended while we tried to stop for gas, the rain clouds that gathered overhead and–despite our overpacking–my “forgot the raincoats” mom-fail…my husband suddenly noticed that the haunted house had a “fast pass” availability.  We elbowed and pushed our way over there, none us daring to ask whether babies or preschoolers liked haunted houses.  We parked the stroder and got into a gloriously short line for the haunted house.

“What’s a haunted house?” asked the four-year old.  “Awesome,” we said.  Knowing the possibility that the kids would not find it awesome was quite high, we planned ahead for the seating arrangement.  The girls (me, grandma, 4-year old, baby) in one buggy, the boys (husband, grandpa, 8-year old) in another.  We figured we could handle it.  As we stepped into the buggy, the 19 year-old attendant had another idea and I found myself separated from the kids and the fam.  Just me and a baby in a buggy with spooky music, flashing lights and ghosts.  I closed my eyes.  Baby did too.  Evidently, babies are not afraid of haunted houses, just like they think movies are roller coasters.  It was quite relaxing.

For the first time in several days, I was sitting in a comfortable seat with a sleepy baby on my lap.  Haunted houses are awesome.  All of the sudden, I had all these ideas of things to write about.  How to shape characters and finish some of my story lines.  (No, not everyone will end up dead or be visited my demons… just some of them.)

As we exited the haunted house I finally felt a little relaxed about my vacation.  NaNoWriMo might not be a total loss. The fender bender wasn’t all that bad— who doesn’t want a new bumper and hatch for Christmas?  The crowds were awful, but surely they would thin when the torrential downpours began.  Sure, someone moved the stroder to a mystery location while we were in the haunted house, but who needs to push tired kids when you can carry them?  We didn’t need that stash of applesauce and diapers stored below the stroder… not at all.

And best of all, it was only a few days to the next 13-hour drive.  And my head was full of ideas.  Thanks Disney.