There's nothing like a bad bout of forgetfulness and a theme park to make you appreciate your husband's patience.
This weekend was like an odd reality show. The kind that makes you look around for the cameras and producer, hoping someone will yell "cut."
It started with my not-so-brilliant idea to take our little nuclear family Saturday to Six Flags Discovery Kingdom. My brother works there as a drummer, and I thought it would be a fun way to spend the afternoon and let the kids hang out with their uncle after his shift ended.
What a hip mom, I thought.
I started prepping for the day-trip Friday night, getting all of our clothes ready and the backpack stockpiled with the requisite fruit snacks, apple juice and fishy crackers.
We bought our tickets and parking pass online (the park has a cost-saving deal going right now, just $30 for an adult ticket) and printed them at home. My husband photocopied our son and daughter's birth certificates so we could prove they are 2 and 1, respectively.
We took the kids on a 2-mile walk to a playground Saturday morning to tire them out so we could nap them early before heading to the theme park.
An hour of traffic and one Wiggles DVD later, we arrived at the theme park in Vallejo.
Where is the parking pass?
Where are the tickets?
This weekend was like an odd reality show. The kind that makes you look around for the cameras and producer, hoping someone will yell "cut."
It started with my not-so-brilliant idea to take our little nuclear family Saturday to Six Flags Discovery Kingdom. My brother works there as a drummer, and I thought it would be a fun way to spend the afternoon and let the kids hang out with their uncle after his shift ended.
What a hip mom, I thought.
I started prepping for the day-trip Friday night, getting all of our clothes ready and the backpack stockpiled with the requisite fruit snacks, apple juice and fishy crackers.
We bought our tickets and parking pass online (the park has a cost-saving deal going right now, just $30 for an adult ticket) and printed them at home. My husband photocopied our son and daughter's birth certificates so we could prove they are 2 and 1, respectively.
We took the kids on a 2-mile walk to a playground Saturday morning to tire them out so we could nap them early before heading to the theme park.
An hour of traffic and one Wiggles DVD later, we arrived at the theme park in Vallejo.
Where is the parking pass?
Where are the tickets?
My husband tore through the backpack, while I sat fuming in the driver's seat, muttering things like "I know I put them in there!" and "You must have taken them out."
The parking attendant, seeing the frenetic rage in our eyes, sweetly suggests that we pay now and go to "guest relations" where they will help print our pass and tickets.
Battle diffused for a moment, we park and search again in the car. No printouts.
Somewhere along the roughly half-mile walk to the tram pickup, I realized I probably left the printouts on the table when I was cramming sweaters and hats into the backpack after checking the online weather forecast.
It wasn't until we were on the tram that I sheepishly admitted my error.
"I didn't want to tell you I thought that's what happened," my husband said. "Hey, did you remember the sunscreen for the kids?"
Oh for crying out loud.
"It's in the car," I said. "Wait! We have the face-stick stuff. We can just rub that all over their little bodies."
He didn't say anything.
While my husband asked the folks at customer service to print out tickets, I smeared the sunblock on the kids. Thankfully, they thought it was hilarious that mommy was covering them in what felt like lip balm.
I then dug through the backpack to find this little "wrist buddy" (read: kid leash) that I was supposed to try out for a product-review blog item. It wasn't among our things.
"It's in the car isn't it?" I said to my husband.
He grinned and shook his head "yes."
"How long are you going to tease me about this day?" I asked.
"Years," he said.
Oddly, once we got into the park the mishaps seemed to end. Our children had a great time watching the killer whale show, looking at sharks and walruses and running around the Thomas Town area of the park.
We were pleasantly surprised by how many rides they were able to go on, and by which rides they enjoyed the most (Pepe Le Pew's Rafts of Romance, Harold the Helicopter).
As Elmer's Weather Balloon Service dipped and spun my kids and me, they squealed and laughed harder than even tickling can produce.
"Mommy, that was crazy!" my son said, as our ride mercifully stopped spinning.
And with that, the craziness of the day slipped into the past.
Do you have a theme park tale or advice you'd like to share? Post a comment below or e-mail me.
The parking attendant, seeing the frenetic rage in our eyes, sweetly suggests that we pay now and go to "guest relations" where they will help print our pass and tickets.
Battle diffused for a moment, we park and search again in the car. No printouts.
Somewhere along the roughly half-mile walk to the tram pickup, I realized I probably left the printouts on the table when I was cramming sweaters and hats into the backpack after checking the online weather forecast.
It wasn't until we were on the tram that I sheepishly admitted my error.
"I didn't want to tell you I thought that's what happened," my husband said. "Hey, did you remember the sunscreen for the kids?"
Oh for crying out loud.
"It's in the car," I said. "Wait! We have the face-stick stuff. We can just rub that all over their little bodies."
He didn't say anything.
While my husband asked the folks at customer service to print out tickets, I smeared the sunblock on the kids. Thankfully, they thought it was hilarious that mommy was covering them in what felt like lip balm.
I then dug through the backpack to find this little "wrist buddy" (read: kid leash) that I was supposed to try out for a product-review blog item. It wasn't among our things.
"It's in the car isn't it?" I said to my husband.
He grinned and shook his head "yes."
"How long are you going to tease me about this day?" I asked.
"Years," he said.
Oddly, once we got into the park the mishaps seemed to end. Our children had a great time watching the killer whale show, looking at sharks and walruses and running around the Thomas Town area of the park.
We were pleasantly surprised by how many rides they were able to go on, and by which rides they enjoyed the most (Pepe Le Pew's Rafts of Romance, Harold the Helicopter).
As Elmer's Weather Balloon Service dipped and spun my kids and me, they squealed and laughed harder than even tickling can produce.
"Mommy, that was crazy!" my son said, as our ride mercifully stopped spinning.
And with that, the craziness of the day slipped into the past.
Do you have a theme park tale or advice you'd like to share? Post a comment below or e-mail me.
