Passports and Eyerolls

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Spoiling Without Stuff

Grandparents are meant to spoil their grandchildren. I’m told it’s a sacred right, and I imagine it’s a lot of fun. This past year, however, I put a rather large spoke in that wheel. If this trip was going to happen, we’d be living out of backpacks for over half the year; the last thing the boys needed was more stuff, either to carry or to mourn leaving behind.

That didn’t stop the grandparents from wanting to give the boys something. After some hemming, hawing, and research, I suggested tickets to Universal Studios Singapore. Problem solved. Grandparents got to spoil, and the boys were thrilled when they found out where we were headed.

Sentosa: “Death Island” to Theme Parks

Universal Studios Singapore is located on Sentosa Island. Its history is…grim. The island’s original Malay name roughly translates to “Death Island,” and over the years it served as a British military base and later a Japanese POW camp. Beginning in the 1970s, Sentosa slowly transformed into Singapore’s playground, finally emerging in its current glossy form in the 2000s.

Today, the island is home not just to Universal Studios but to the larger Resorts World complex, Singapore’s second casino, golf courses, beaches, luxury homes, and hotels. It was the perfect place for the boys to decompress after all the changes we were asking of them.

I will confess: I dropped the ball here.

When Coach Forgets to Call the Play

Normally, my theme park plans rival military campaigns. I know rope drop times, optimal ride order, which attractions deserve a fast pass, snack strategies, restroom locations, everything. This time? Not so much.

Fortunately, Universal Studios Singapore is a fairly gentle park. Despite not arriving at the crack of dawn, we still made it to rope drop at 9:30 a.m. (My diehard Disney people are laughing.)

By ride three, the lines ballooned. Even with express passes, we waited close to 50 minutes for our final must-do attraction. After that, despite liberal applications of snacks and cold drinks, the heat and crowds won. The original plan had been to conquer the park and then head to the oceanarium, but the boys were done. Their request? Pool time. (Have I mentioned it’s an epic pool?)

Knowing When to Call It

Anyone who’s traveled with kids knows flexibility is key and this remains true with teens. Yes, teens have more stamina and a greater appreciation for temples, museums, and new foods, but they’re still not adults. When they say they’re done, it’s usually best to listen. Does that sometimes mean cutting short something you may never return to? Yes. But it also means better memories, happier teens, and a greater chance they’ll say yes to that last historical site when it really matters.

The afternoon became a mix of pool time, schoolwork, and heading out for some dinner favorites. After dinner, the tween begged to return to the pool for some “night swimming.” Dan and the teen (jet lag still very much a thing) went to bed.

Down Days Are Not Wasted Days

The next day was a designated “down day.” No plans. Nothing on the itinerary. Just schoolwork, laundry, rest, and the accumulation of small chores that come with travel. I build these days into every trip, even shorter ones. While some argue it’s a waste to be in a new place and not maximize every second, I’ve found down days essential for avoiding burnout and, having them planned lessens the guilt.

We slept deliciously late. Especially since I didn’t set an alarm. And when the trip leader doesn’t set her alarm…everyone enjoys a snooze.

We caught the tail end of brunch and talked through our very loose agenda. Laundry needed doing (hello again, Scrubba), and we’d head to Orchard Road for some shopping. The late afternoon would be for schoolwork and resting, because that evening was all about New Year’s.

The Fullerton is known for its New Year’s bash: an elaborate buffet, drinks, dancing, and a prime fireworks viewing at midnight. This, I’ll remind you, was the entire reason we started our trip in Singapore. We are an early-to-bed, early-to-rise family, so resting in the afternoon was going to be the key to success.

Ha. Oh, hahaha.

Shopping Up, Not Out

With a plan loosely in place, we headed to Orchard Road, Singapore’s shopping mecca. If you ever needed anything, no matter how obscure, I’m convinced you could find it somewhere along that stretch. We picked a mall at random and immediately thought, “Wow, this place is tiny” Then we realized Singapore malls don’t spread out, they go up. And up. And up.

Ground floors house food courts and practical shops like pharmacies, with higher floors devoted to home goods, wellness, clothing, luxury brands, and often movie theaters at the very top. I describe this as if we grasped it instantly, when in reality we wandered in confused circles for an embarrassingly long time before the teens (naturally) figured it out.

I found deodorant (not my deodorant…grumble), and miraculously we located pants that fit the 6’4” teen (yes, new pants…find out why here). With chores complete, we were heading out when we passed a salon and that’s when the tween surprised us all by asking for a haircut.

This was unexpected, given that pre-trip haircuts had been repeatedly declined. Ordinarily, he’d need one for his annual Nutcracker performance, but since he was missing it this year, he’d opted to keep his hair long. Still, I’d noticed it seemed to bother him, especially in the pool. Decision made.

While Dan and the teen went off to explore (read: find food), I stayed with Aiden as he attempted to explain his vision to a very patient stylist. For an incredibly reasonable price, he emerged with one of the best haircuts he’s ever had. Everyone happy, we returned to the hotel to rest before the big night.

That was the plan.

There Was a Plan

In my defense, it was a solid plan. Three of us even followed it. We lounged by the pool. We snoozed. We snacked. The tween, however, swam. And swam. And swam some more. When I suggested a break, or perhaps closing his eyes for a moment, he declined and continued swimming.

Eventually, I dragged him out, force-fed him snacks, and hauled him upstairs. The boys had an hour and a half to rest and get ready before dinner at 8:30 p.m.

At the appointed time, the teen appeared, ready to go, and casually mentioned that his younger brother had fallen asleep and didn’t want to wake up.

Doh.

After much coaxing, reminding, and gentle (and not-so-gentle) persuasion that this was his wish-list item, we got him downstairs and to dinner.

Midnight in Singapore

The Fullerton outdid itself. The buffet featured every imaginable seafood and carving station, sushi, Southeast Asian specialties, and over 100 mini desserts. Tables were decked with celebratory hats and noisemakers, guests were dressed up, and a few women even wore ballgowns (an item that did not make the packing list and is decidedly not compatible with backpacks). The atmosphere was electric.

At 10:30, we began the wake-up process. It wasn’t until the band launched into his favorite songs that he fully revived – thank goodness! Around 11:20, people began heading outside. Though it felt early, we followed the crowd. Good call. At 11:30, the fireworks began and they were spectacular. Living near Washington, D.C., we’ve seen some impressive fireworks displays, but this was the best I’ve ever experienced. Twenty-five minutes of nonstop brilliance.

Then silence. A countdown began. The crowd, hotel guests and Singaporeans in the streets, joined in. At midnight, a collective “Happy New Year!” rang out, and the fireworks erupted again.

I hugged my family. Kissed my husband. The boys rolled their eyes as I wiped away tears.

“Mom,” they said. “It’s not sad!”

“I know,” I replied. “These are happy tears.”