A Mini Money Experiment
A quick note- I am not writing this as a review of any destination, nor are there any affiliate links. I’m just a parent who survived a theme park and lived to tell the tale.
Onward!
I grew up with many brothers and sisters, so my childhood memories are of chaotic moments of random self entertainment. Some of my fondest recollections are of camping trips during the summer. We would camp right by the beach, eat a bunch of junk food (it was never allowed at the house, only when camping!), and play Uno for hours while being eaten alive by mosquitos. We had a few other vacations, a rare trip to Mammoth once or twice from what I can remember. I do recall some kind of trip where we all piled into the van to visit our Aunt up north. My parents found cost efficient ways to feed and entertain so many kids, even when we were all teenagers.
Fast forward twenty (fine, thirty) something years. As my own kid is getting older, I want to give them the same kind of happy, fuzzy memories from trips. We’ve done some camping, and have loved a nice long summer vacation far from home a few times. One category of vacationing I am inexperienced in is with theme parks. Southern California has several popular ones. Personally, I’d rather spend all day cleaning bathroom grout behind a toilet with a baby toothbrush than spend $200 or $300 entry fee to stand in line for rides that make me want to puke. But this isn’t about me.
I have friends who FLOCK to these places- diehard fans who go on their birthdays, attend without their kids, wear matching themed t-shirts, countdown clocks to new rides opening up, special clubs, you name it. They have a ball with it, enjoy it, and it brings quality to their lives in a way that makes sense for them. Once again, I’d rather fill in all the tiny push pin holes in my house with spackle, which is why I haven’t been there since my high school “Grad Night” trip fifteen (fine, twenty) years ago. I’ve gone on my merry way, avoiding this seventh circle of hell, until one day, my adorable little YoungFUnd looks up at me and says the words I’ve been dreading:
“Mom? Can we go to Legoland for my birthday?”
Plates crashed, silverware clattered, water that was running stopped. I turned slowly…
“Who told you about Legoland?”
Ok, fine, that’s a very dramatic re-telling. That’s what went on in my mind as my blood ran cold with this request. Be cool, Ms. FUnds. You knew this would happen one day.
Before their request, it had already dawned on me that this particular theme park would be something that they enjoy. It’s a bit of a drive for us, but the characters, rides, and cost of entry to the park did not seem as treacherous to me as other theme park options around us. YoungFUnd’s request to attend was confirmation that it was time- venture we shall!
Here’s where the little experiment came in- should I take my default route, and find the cheapest way to have this experience? Or should I look at accommodations and ticket packages, and find what seemed to be the best way to have this experience?
I compared overnight accommodations, food options, park fees, and extra park activity options:
A little soul searching and a comparison chart are all I need to make every decision in my life.
From what I learned with online research and interrogating experienced friends, the hotel package with tickets and perks was worth the extra money. Most reviews praised the ease of the whole trip by having the hotel, parking, extra perks, and activities all within walking distance. In total, it was about 20% more expensive to do this option than to piece together a separate hotel, pay for entry tickets, and search for food options.
I decided to pull the trigger on the packaged option, hoping it would give my family a better experience. It was a little mini experiment of my own:
Would it make a difference to do this the “convenient” way I had always wondered about? Can expectations be met when they’ve been built up by so much research, commercials, and ads?
The dreaded day came when we ventured out for our trip. It was as convenient as I expected it to be, from check in to park entry to food options. I have never seen my kid so happy- they actually put their hands in their pockets and skipped around, marveling at all of the fun Lego statues. YoungFUnd finally found a good reason to learn how to read a map.
It’s been a few months since we returned from this trip. In the back of my mind, I have been processing whether or not I would plan it with the same approach again. My favorite parts of the trip were not related to any of the “things”, nor conveniences, that came with the package. The memories of my kid skipping around, recalling how we went on one ride 5 times in the same afternoon, and the satisfied exhaustion at the end of the day are what give me the warm fuzzies. Those were the most memorable parts of the trip; I don’t think it would matter where we stayed, or if we had to drive 10 minutes before and after to get there.
Overall, I think I paid more for the idea of a better, themed, convenient trip. Ultimately, if I had gone the other route, the best of the memories would still be had, and I’d have a few more bucks in my pocket. I would, however, still wonder if the themed packaged option is a better way to go. Since I was a kid myself, I had built up the idea in my mind. I took the opportunity to try something new, instead of my knee-jerk reaction to plan it with less of a financial impact.
My little financial experiment was a relatively low-risk way to apply my newest FUFIRE phase mindset:
-Focus on creating a present day, balanced, experience-rich life with my family, and
-Less pressure on saving experiences or extra money for a future I’ve built up in my mind.
No regrets here. The only regret I would have is if I never pursued this trip at all. The default thinking I used to use was “This is too expensive.”
The Survival Mode instincts need to be unlearned; I have moved past that need at this point.
My kid is only so young for so long. Just yesterday I was looking at the shoes by our entryway door, and thought for a split second; Which grown person left their shoes here?, only to realize they belonged to my “little” child. I’m doubling up on helpings for their plate, and having the most interesting conversations ever about geysers in Yellowstone. The opportunity to take trips such as this will be gone some day, so I’m glad I went while I could.
Now, if only I could stop stepping on the little tiny building block pieces all over the perfectly camouflaged carpet, then I would be able to walk around barefoot in my own damn house.
