“They call it the happiest place on earth.” Sure. If your definition of happy includes melted ice cream tears, toddler meltdowns, and parents stress-eating $9 churros just to survive the day.

Don’t get me wrong—I love Disneyland. But this trip was different. This time, I brought my tiny human sidekick. And let me tell you, seeing the magic through his 18-month-old eyes almost made me forget that we paid $6 for bottled water. Almost.

He was mesmerized. Jessie from Toy Story, Minnie Mouse, Mr. Potato Head—straight up celebrities to him. The way he stared, like his whole brain was exploding in sparkles, was priceless. I swear, if Minnie had asked him to move in, he’d have packed his diaper bag on the spot.

Of course, not everything was magical. Ursula from The Little Mermaid? Nope. Monsters Inc.? Hard pass. Basically, anything with a dark room and loud noises was nightmare fuel. But tractors at California Adventure? Yes. Driving cars on Autopia like he had his driver’s license? Double yes. I got it all on video because I’m that mom.

And let’s talk food. Disneyland food is daylight robbery with sprinkles on top. Corn dogs, pizza, fruit cups that cost more than my weekly groceries… but hey, I guess that’s how they fund the fireworks show. And okay, I’ll admit it—those fireworks? Worth every overpriced bite.

Then there were the princesses. Sparkly gowns, tiaras, twirling down Main Street like tiny queens. Every little girl looked like she had just signed a contract with Disney royalty. Meanwhile, I looked like I had signed a contract with exhaustion.

Because here’s the truth: Disneyland with a toddler is no joke. It takes stamina, snacks, and the patience of a saint. By the end, I was fried. But the last ride sealed it for me: It’s a Small World. My son was in a full trance—dancing, pointing, quacking at the ducks like it was his own private concert. I could’ve ridden it 10 more times just to watch him live his best life.

Here’s my hot take: Disneyland is still overcrowded, overpriced, and hotter than Hades. But this time? I actually loved it. And here’s why—recovery.

If I wasn’t clean, I wouldn’t have been there. I wouldn’t have had the patience, the presence, or the joy to soak in that chaos with my son. Recovery let me show up—not just for him, but for me too.

So yeah, Disneyland is crazy. But seeing it through his little eyes? Worth every penny, every meltdown, and every overpriced churro.

Grateful. Exhausted. But mostly grateful.