Back in 2013 when I was lucky enough to take the family to Disneyland as part of media trip, Tara and I had the utter pleasure of enjoying a magical party right in the middle of Fantasy Land. It was closed to the rest of the park attendees and while the party itself was amazing, the pure luxury of getting to go on the rides over and over without lining up was joy.
The one ride we went on over and over was the Peter Pan ride. I will never forget the opportunity to share something like that with one of my children.
I have a soft spot for Peter Pan. I have always loved the story. Read the book as a child, seen the play and of course loved the Disney version too. The idea of Peter, the idea of running away from responsibility, from growing up, from experience magic and fairies pulled on me as a child. I used to stand in fairy rings and walk them ‘widdershins’ in hope that the fairies would take me away. This implies that my mundane life was miserable, and it was not. My family shared my love for the magical and mythical. We all loved the idea that another land could be at the second star to the right, or at the back of a closet, but reading isn’t the same as it really truly happening, but I continued to dream. What always gets me about Peter though, that even THAT was not all wonderful and that little lost boy was touched by melancholy for a path not chosen, while lost on my kids, always makes me (a mother) feel sad.
Tara has taken a huge interest in the story and we watched the Disney version together on the weekend. Then she went on to Netflix and found the 2003 live version, which I also love very much. It is a lovely take on the tale with amazing actors and Peter is just how he should be.
Next we will be reading the book together, because our house indeed does truly believe in fairies and will keep on doing so no matter what.
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