Disney World Is For Perfect Moms

Pack Your White Boards, Bitches

On November 7th, 2024, I woke up to learn that Donald Trump had been elected President of the United States for the second time before immediately wishing I was still asleep or living in an alternate world in which such a horrible truth was not even possible. A couple hours later, I sort of (?) got my wish. Depressed as fuck but determined to conjure up my best Fun Mom self, I elbowed my way through the crowds of Diagon Alley to spend $1,327.99 a pop on magic wands because that is what one does in Universal Studios. For the sake of magic, you see. For the sake of fun! For the sake of CORE MEMS.

It’s like this. Plus 439 people.

That’s right friends. I bravely visited the Orlando theme parks for the first time as a parent of children. And I lived to tell the tale.

As a child myself, I went to Disney World three times. Twice with my parents and siblings, and once with my high school’s marching band because I was that cool. I also got my period for the first time in Disney World during the marching band trip (yeah, of course I played the flute) but was too crushingly insecure to share this fact with my roommates (who were also ostensibly my best friends), which means I stood in line for Tower of Terror with a fucking maxi pad incorrectly applied. I did not fully peel the outer plastic wrapping off, so it was just, like, there. And wow, I can’t recommend it!

ANYWAY. I had a fine time in Disney as a kid. But Brett and I have largely dreaded and evaded Orlando up until this point. Neither of us like scary rides, and I fucking hate crowds of people intent on getting their money’s worth of joy. But eventually we folded under pressure, as so many American parents do, and did our best to set ourselves up for the most optimal Disney experience possible.

Which means, of course, that I followed Brooke Raybould’s “How To Ride Everything Everything And Wait In No Lines . . . at Magic Kingdom” TO THE FUCKING LETTER. In case you’re not living your best life and have the stunning misfortune to NOT be acquainted with Raybould’s work, allow me to present the golden ticket to all of your wildest dreams.

Unfortunately, you’ve been doing everything wrong. But fear not, Raybould will tell you how to do everything RIGHT.

brookeraybould

A post shared by @brookeraybould

Raybould is what I lovingly refer to as a Hustle And Grind momfluencer. She’s made a name for herself not through wifely submission or food porn or skincare or Qanon conspiracy theories or even raw milk evangelism but through aggressively succeeding at motherhood no matter what no excuses sleep is for the fucking weak happiness is a choice.

I wrote about Raybould last year in my treatise on the delights of mediocrity, but I would happily write about her every week and never get bored.

Raybould loves Tony Robbins, is never not reading The 5AM Club, and could not raise her children (nor would she want to) without a whiteboard. Every second of her day is optimized because motherhood is a job that should be taken seriously. I don’t disagree! To illustrate the gravity of motherhood as a full-time endeavor, Raybould frequently tells her followers that mothers (if their work was valued by capitalism lol) would be paid nearly 200K a year for their tireless labor. She underscores this point as a way to sell you on a life that is scheduled so thoroughly that her dreams are probably powerpoint presentations.

THE THING IS THOUGH, MOTHERS ARE NOT VALUED IN THIS COUNTRY WHICH MEANS THEY ARE NOT PAID $180,000 A YEAR.

So why the ever living FUCK should we torture ourselves by attempting to squeeze every last drop of productivity out of our already over-scheduled and exhausting days? I can’t answer that! And maddeningly, neither can Brooke Raybould.

But if you too want to elevate your caregiving to a sick game in which you are the ruthlessly ambitious employee and your kid’s teddy bear is your boss who may or may not promote you if you streamline your bedtime routine and meet your lunchbox packing quota for Q4, then by all means, go off. Raybould has got you covered.

A few basics tenets of a life worth living according to Raybould include:

• Waking up at 5 am and stretching luxuriously. There are at least 937 videos of her doing exactly this, which means it’s an empirically proven way to Live Laugh Love your way to winning.

  

  If you’re not smiling at the phone you’ve propped up on your bureau when you first become conscious, are you even alive?

• Go for a run when it’s still dark before returning to your home gym (you have a home gym, right?????) to hop on an exercise bike, treadmill, and do rigorous strength training.

• Take a cold shower, “because moms are naturally good at doing hard things.”

• Apply a full face of makeup (“this signals that you care about yourself and your job as a mom”, and coquettishly smile at your reflection as you try on multiple outfits before deciding on which one makes you look the hottest. Do NOT wear leggings or sweatpants because to do so means that you’ve GIVEN UP YOU FUCKING LOSER.

  

  IT’S A “SCIENTIFIC FINDING.”

• Drink a smoothie every single day and be sure that smoothie is made with a protein powder that you’re being paid to promote. Bonus points if you can offer a discount code only redeemable at Amazon or another big box store owned by another villainous sociopath.

• It goes without saying that food is fuel.

• Put gel AND hairspray in your kids’ hair.

• Forget that Mary Oliver quote about pleasure and your soft animal body.

• Use your make believe mommy money to buy into the myth that America is a meritocracy.

• Drive your “mom car” to various activities. Maybe that’s karate. Maybe that’s church. Maybe that’s a trip to the grocery store that you have PLANNED OUT WITH TIME STAMPS.

  

• Stare pensively at your computer when you have time to “cram in” work, and reread The 5AM Club.

• Enjoy the dinner made by your “hired help” (you can afford this because your drive to succeed and refusal to lose has earned you a mommy raise) at the end of the day.

• Put your kids to bed (if they fight you on this you’re fucked because your kids are losers) and turn your “sleep” button on at 8PM sharp. You do not have an off button.

  This is all to say that when Brooke Raybould does Magic Kingdom, she DOES MAGIC KINGDOM.

Please understand - I could not fit her entire itinerary in one screen grab, but if you were curious, her last activity starts at 9:20PM so ⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️ ⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️ ⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️

Before we continue, it’s critical to note that in order to maximize your little hamster wheel of capitalist-mandated fun at Magic Kingdom (or any of the big Orlando theme parks), you need to be rich. If you’re not rich, it’s because you don’t have enough white boards. Or enough natural ability to do hard things. Or you get up at 6AM like a pathetic slob. Or you’re not intentional enough. Or you used a free half hour to stare at a wall instead of shooting up Athletic Greens. OR you simply failed to turn your imaginary mommy salary into money that works at Magic Kingdom because you’re NOT TRYING HARD ENOUGH. And that’s on you bitch. That’s on you.

To win at Disney, you need to stay at a Disney property in order to access early access bullshit. The Disney Four Seasons (the Raybould’s preferred choice), charges over $2,000.00 for one room. Per night. The Rayboulds have 4 kids so unless the Rayboulds are ROUGHING IT and squeezing into one room, they’re spending over $4,000.00 a night on lodging alone. If they’re in Orlando for a week, we’re looking at $28,000.00. For the hotel.

Then of course, there are the various tickets and the various genie lines, lightning lines, fast passes, WHAT THE FUCK EVER you’ll need in order to do “Ride Everything And Wait In No Lines.” I erased everything I ever had to learn about this classist scam from my harried brain as soon as I boarded my return flight home, but have fun spending literal days of your life educating yourself on a labyrinthine system explicitly designed to make you feel crazy via snappy Youtube videos.

LOL AS IF THERE’S A SINGLE PART THAT *ISN’T* CONFUSING

I’ve done enough math for today, but there are 6 people in the Raybould family so they’re spending what amounts to many people’s annual fucking salary on airplane tickets, park tickets, food, souvenirs, magic wands, and matching themed outfits. Which are ESSENTIAL, GUYS. ESSENTIAL.

To conclude: you can only do Disney correctly if you have AT LEAST $60K or so to blow on a week in the most magical place on earth. But since you’re earning imaginary mommy money on top of your husband’s (you’re obviously heterosexual and you’re obviously married) salary, this shouldn’t be a problem unless you’re a lazy slacker.

HAVE YOU EVER ASKED YOURSELF IF YOU’RE A LOSER????????????????? MAYBE YOU SHOULD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

When MY family of underachievers went to Magic Kingdom with our equally shiftless extended family and friends, we got to the park at 10:30AM (and had to ride the shuttle in like the useless plebes we are). We went on a grand total of six rides, and that’s including the fucking carousel. We ate a hellish meal at some sort of Peter Pan eatery that was so full of human beings it made me slightly dizzy. We paid an amount of money I’d like to forget (but never will) for something sadistically called “Sweets and Treats,” but because we’re not winners, and didn’t game the system hard enough to get the REAL “Sweets and Treats” package, our “Sweets and Treats” situation was some sort of JV version. This entailed the worst wine selection I’ve encountered since I was slugging jugs of Carlo Rossi in college, which we adults “enjoyed” in a hospital operating room-lit gazebo thing that hasn’t been updated since 1963 while our kids made themselves sick on mini desserts. We had purchased this luxe “experience” mostly so we’d have seats for the fireworks. The seats entailed squeezing onto a patch of fake grass with the rest of the rubes who couldn’t afford the REAL “Sweets and Treats.” Following the fireworks, we made a desperate dash towards the exit, where we waited in a line to escape despite fearing that we never would.

I am not here to yuck anyone’s yum. If you’re into Disney, that’s great! I just - am not. Which means that I morally object to ALL of Brooke Raybould’s content, but find the Disney-specific content egregious bordering on pure evil. Did you know that you could serve up to a year in prison for TRANSPORTING DENTURES ACROSS STATE LINES in the United States, but gaslighting people into thinking visiting Disney World is financially reasonable, a reason for grown women to dress like toddlers, or remotely carefree when doing so with FOUR CHILDREN is legal??????

My trip to Disney was fun in many ways! But the fun came from fucking around with my siblings and adult friends and bitching about the criminal scam that is the Orlando Theme Park Cartel. It’s fun to watch a kid have fun on a ride. SURE. But there is no universe in which a “perfect” (Raybould’s words not mine!!!!) trip to Disney World should entail waking up at 4:45AM to do mother fucking burpees before walking approximately 712 miles in the humidity with tiny terrorists who want to know HOW LONG THEY WILL HAVE TO WAIT FOR LITERALLY EVERY SINGLE THING.

A photo of me enjoying Disney World with my family and friends.

Brooke Raybould’s tips and tricks for winning at Disney World are the same as her tips and tricks for winning at everything else in that they prioritize self-optimization at all costs. Raybould’s “good mom” is a mom who is “succeeding,” because she is “not settling” and crucially, she is succeeding because she is trying. Her effort and drive will ensure success and fulfillment because that’s how life works.

This is, of course, bullshit.

Hard work is far more likely to protect a wealthy white woman’s status quo, for example, than it is to lift a mother out of poverty, or give her access to upward class mobility. And in Raybould’s world, hard work is always done on behalf of the self. Or, on behalf of the nuclear family. Or on behalf of maintaining the power structures that enable YOU to win while the majority of your fellow citizens continue to lose.

Raybould doesn’t share whiteboards about contributing to mutual aid networks or fundraising for abortion centers or uniting communities or ensuring a school board isn’t infiltrated by book-banning fascists. Her whiteboards are about staying skinny (or, if you’re not skinny, trying to get skinny until the day you die). They’re about resource hoarding. They’re about being happy simply because you’re framing your entire day around “creating endorphins.” That’s how happiness works - did you not know?!?!?!?!?!?!

Raybould’s whiteboards are about looking hot so that the misogynist devil on your shoulder will allow you to take your maternal labor seriously. Even if no one else will! And rest assured, no one else will. Because we live in the United States. No matter how many fucking white boards you fill up with pseudoscience, Andrew Huberman love poems, and bullet points about fiber supplements.

Brooke Raybould’s How To Ride Everything In Magic Kingdom And Wait In No Lines is the most American content she’s ever created. Because in the US, some people will always be able to skip the line.