First, convince spouse that a spectacular family getaway with three rugrats is a rational idea!  Though spouse is skeptical (perhaps “practical”), sway spouse with phrasing such as: “everlasting memories,” “once-in-a-lifetime,” and, if all else fails, “all-inclusive childcare.”  Once coerced, “involve” spouse in selection( though predetermined): “A Disney Cruise, doesn’t that sound fantastic, hon?”   Produce initial research.  Include staged photos of grinning mouse-eared families, relaxed mojito-sippers on sandy beaches, and larger-than-closet staterooms.  Refrain from sharing articles including the following: rage-induced drownings, piracy on the high seas, and Norovirus.  Do obsess over such possibilities yourself, ensuring appropriate anxiety.

Side note, if you birthed a terror-ridden child who is flying-phobic, cruising from NYC is a terrific option!  Sardined into a teeny room, floating the vast ocean for two days until you reach your destination, plus two more fun-filled days sailing on home, is wise.  Dismiss the following until you’ve officially booked: ungracious children thump each other two minutes into car rides,  eldest kid is raging insomniac, and infant is involved in treachery in the confines of your child-proof-home. Remortgage your home, pawn family heirlooms, and hone extreme-couponing skills to amass small fortune for said cruise.

As trip approaches, initial enthusiasm morphs into frequent panic attacks.  Don’t let heart palpitations deter you!  Your kids tear each other’s faces off as you diligently plan, and you envision your Disneyfied-disheveled self yanking Mickey, snot faced and screaming “Magical My Ass!,” but avoid gut instinct to abandon the trip.  Instead constantly threaten cancellation to scare children into submission.  Remember, a licensed doctor is on board if you were to experience a bout of whine-induced-melancholia*, and your spouse will prevent you from tossing a tantrumy child overboard.

Instead of dwelling on the mental anguish awaiting, hurl yourself into creating a PERFECT trip!  Read every Googlicious article on what to pack-wear-eat-order-reserve, wading through opposing opinions until you require Valium.  Pop Valium, Ambien, and/or swigs-of-wine-again, then create your very own, lengthy packing list!

There’s cooler days when you embark, and if you survive to reach the tropics, warm days and beach days, Marvel days, Halloween parades, princess teas, formals nights on seas, pirate nights, pillow fights.  SHOOOOOOT.  Desire to cancel will wrap itself around your insides like a tapeworm, instead, hurl yourself into locating each necessity- gloves, tights, sarongs, dozen sunscreens, eye patches. Decide kids’ costumes must color coordinate, so Insta pictures are drool worthy.

Rather than efficiently purchasing products, spend valuable hours surfing eBay (while kids beg for attention) to snag tiara for five dollars versus eight!  When bidding, ensure estimated shipping date means it may reach you in time.  This method ensures shopping is extra stressful.

Try self-talk like: this trip is about family, perfectionism is unhealthy then chuck that crap out the window and keep Type- A-obsessing over: best backpack, best footwear, best attractions, best technique for smuggling in alcohol. Put items in Amazon cart then remove. Put in and remove.  Repeat process until Amazon-exhausted and purchase all items originally in your cart plus extra. Avoid vacation nudity by raiding Old Navy clearance.  Rush to return it all before embarking.

Quick, buy trashy magazines, Bonine, Dramamine, Visine, and, most importantly, Codeine.  Reserve character meet and greets, up-dos at Bippidi Boppidi Boutique**, unromantic dinners, and cabanas (shade costs extra).

Set rock bottom expectations.  Your kids, though occasionally charming, are ungrateful little brats.  Expecting them to fling you a compliment: “This is amazing!”  “The best week ever,” or boring old “thank you” will result in rage.  Do expect expressions of distaste: “I’m soooo bored.”  “The 100 activities I can choose from are BABYISH.” and  “I WANT cake!” (though they’ve  been eating a teeth-rotting-buffet at every meal), plus a daily dose of “I hate it here!”

When your child tells you she is now petrified of hurricanes/fireworks/oceans and prefers an airplane to  a “stupid boat,” research boarding school, then remind yourself tuition was blown on the impending cruise.

Leave packing until night before travel (or you haven’t fully invested yourself in this process).

Why did your spouse insist on this “vacation” when you were happy to wait until the kids were in college? Jerk.

*Check this out!  Who knew there were so many wonderful euphemisms for a nervous breakdown?  http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/01/health/01mind.html?mcubz=0

**You too may want to spend fifty dollars, so your kid can sport a full can of hairspray in his/her hair.  Read a review: https://www.undercovertourist.com/blog/review-the-royal-treatment-at-the-bibbidi-bobbidi-boutique/