My daughter can sniff out a carnival faster than a hound on a blood trail. Do not be fooled by what appears to be quiet reflection in the back seat of the car; the V-meister is in fact surveying the terrain for church festival banners and plotting ways to get herself to one.
“Mama? That sign said that Saint Claire’s is having a festival June 4th to the 6th. Maybe we could go! . . . And Mama? When you drove by the Sacred Heart of Jesus, I saw a festival there. I wish we could go to a festival. Mama, can we go?”
And I always say, “Maybe!” Which means, “Nice try.”
Last week I found her past lights out, reading our church bulletin by flashlight. A coincidence? I think not.
I would rather go through Navy Seal training than attend a church carnival. They are crowded, hot, and sticky, and they never end well. It’s not that I want to deny my kids the opportunity to lose their lunch inside a spinning barrel, arrive at the top of the Ferris wheel in time to decide they want off, be stung by a yellow jacket, or come home with a tattoo. It’s that I worry about losing them in the crowd. I have visions of Jonas licking a guardrail or sticking his hand inside the porta-john. And I prefer to do carnivals on my own terms: once every five to ten years.
This past weekend, though, I discovered the treasure that is the Blossom Time Festival in charming Chagrin Falls, Ohio. Blossom Time is an old timey fair’s fair, complete with balloon launch, Ferris wheel, merry-go-round, pint sized rides, face painting, a clown who makes balloon animals, and a strand featuring hard core carnival diversions like darts and the hammer test of strength. No mullets.
My children, who believe that Chuck-E-Cheez’s really went out of business and have not yet been told that Disney World exists, were in seventh heaven. Awestruck, they took in the sights, sounds, and smells around them as though they’d just stepped off a space ship. “Mama! I love dis festibull! Can we go to dis festibull all da time?”
Nobody whined about being hungry or unable to propel themselves forward with their own two feet. We rode every kiddie ride on the premises without incident, scarfed down hot dogs and cotton candy, and each child came by his cheap stuffed animal honestly, without tears. In fact, the evening went so swimmingly that we topped it off with one final sugar surge at the local ice cream shop before heading home.
It was a very Normal Rockwellesque night, the kind you recall years later through a sepia lens. And it nudged me one step closer to one day entering the place my Doc Marten wearin‘ and Sylvia Plath readin’ self of yore swore she’d never step foot inside – the Magic Kingdom of Disney World. Taking them to the fair this weekend made me realize how little it takes to light up their world, and how selfish I’ve been in denying them more of these simple pleasures. Maybe next year, we’ll do Disney. Do you think they’ll let me bring a flask?
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I have been told that a trip to Disney (with kids) is not a vacation, it is a military operation. It has its rewards, but at no time should you delude yourself with the idea of rest and relaxation.
Of course, we’re still gonna do it. I just need to save up enough money for the hotel spa package… and maybe for a personal escort to take Violet back to the park after her parents have passed out from heat exhaustion.
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Blossom Time Festival. It sounds magical. Like an old musical or something (actually Blossom Time IS a musical). How lovely!
I love it when little events like this transcend everything you thought it would be. Such pleasant surprises.
And you sound just like me. I never thought I would want to take my kids to Disney either, but everytime we take a little trip we realize our kids are much more portable and well behaved than we thought. I’m sure we’ll give in and go next year or two years from now. We are such suckers.
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You’re a brave lady!! We went to a barbeque cookoff recently and they had a small carnival off to the side. My husband deftly diverted their attention by exclaiming “Ooh, look, RIBS! YUMMY!”
.-= Becca´s last blog ..It was a Grand Slam =-.
we avoided knowledge of that place the mouse lives for as LONG as possible. in fact, my oldest has been to the land, but I didn’t even have to take him there — he went with my sister’s family who are veterans of the d-world. hey, i had a good excuse, ya know, caring for 2 infants and all. but now everyone is bigger and there is more pressure to go and do and see and “have fun”. but is it really fun, and for who?
glad you had a banner night. maybe we’ll luck into that some day. oh and maybe win the megaball too. (yeah right)
you are allowed to bring food and drinks into disney… I would put it in reusable water bottle. plus, you can get more in that way.
btw… check this post for use of real names.
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R- LOVE the new space. It’s so you. =) Ah, the carnival, land of plumber cracks, bad teeth and ciggies. xoxo
I want to be a kid again. Oh boy do I.
A flask can fit neatly and inconspicuously into your back pocket, as long as you aren’t wearing skinny jeans. Good to keep one on hand for emergency use, like at carnivals.
Hoo-boy. I really hate carnivals and fests of all kinds. Unless I go alone. But with kids? bleccchhh…
I keep trying to convince my husband (who is from rural Maine) that going to Chicago for the 4th of July (really on the 3rd, there), with a million or more other people PLUS two children under the age of 10 would be a NIGHTMARE. He says, “But other families do it! Look at those families on TV!” I say, “well, they must be heavily medicated or stoned.”
I hide my flask in my bra. They don’t check that closely. Disneyland can be the most amazing experience with small children. Of course, I have only gone with children as Aunt or Very Old Big Sister (I’m 34, my youngest siblings are 9) so I’m sure it’s quite different.
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