Strawberry Festival

I took the kids to the Strawberry Festival today. A good time was had by many. Mostly not by us. I dropped the van off at my parent's house and we walked from there, which is roughly a mile. I had the kids each bring a basket with them in which candy could be collected, and I brought my purse and our collapsible (sp?) chair. It's the kind that comes in its own carrier and straps over your shoulder. Across my other shoulder was my (tiny) purse.

So off we walked, with children laughing, chattering and generally being slowpokes for this mile trek to where we'd eventually stand (and sit) by and watch the parade. On the way through, someone was giving away red balloons, and the kids each got one tied to his and her wrist.

The parade in and of itself was fairly entertaining. Brooke loved seeing the princesses on the floats (pageant winners), and Corbin was thrilled when the cement mixer rolled by. I liked the bands the best. Of course the candy was a hit with the kids. They each brought an average sized pail (like a beach pail) and filled it with candy. The while gig lasted probably 45 minutes, which is long, IMO, even for a parade. I sat in my chair, and the kids stood in anticipation of candy being tossed in their general direction.

At first they were still wearing their balloons on their wrists, but the strings were so long that the balloons were quite rudely blowing directly into the faces of the people next to us. So I took the balloons off of their wrists and tied them on a short string to my chair.

We got up to leave, and I retied the balloons to each child, and we began to walk. Apparently when I retied Brooke's balloon, however, I didn't tie it tight enough. Up, up, up it flew, away and into "outer space". (The kids are under the impression that that's where balloons go when they fly away. I wonder where they could have gotten that idea, mom wonders sarcastically.)

At any rate, the tears welled up instantly, and Brooke insisted that I could catch it. I assured her that once the balloon reaches the tops of the trees, it's virtually impossible for anyone to catch it, but for whatever reason she just couldn't accept that.

Corbin, always the consoler, assured her that we'd get her another one. "We'll go get another one.. right mom? Right? We can get her another one, right?" I told them we'd do our best, but that really wasn't good enough for my three-year-old at that moment. We headed into the same general direction of where we acquired the balloons, and as luck would have it, she was there with balloons. Crisis averted.

However, as we walked, Brooke started crying again. I asked her what was wrong, and why she was crying again, and when she finally caught her breath, she was still upset that the first balloon flew away and was headed to outerspace. Instinctually I knew that she wasn't just being bratty in this moment. She was really just worn out and her emotions weren't able to catch up with reality.

Trying to be a nice guy, I figured I could buy their happiness for a moment. I bought Brooke a crown with ribbons down the back, and some wiggly little finger puppet, and I bought Corbin a "light up jellyfish yo-yo ball". Momentary peace can be bought for about $8, if you're curious.

Corbin was hot and asked for a drink, so we went to the strawberry food/drink vendor. I got each child a strawberry cooler, which is like a strawberry icee with whipped cream, and I got myself a strawberry lemonade.

If you've ever been the the Strawberry Festival, you know how ridiculously packed the streets are with people. If you haven't been, imagine the stores on Black Friday, and it's a rough comparison.

So I hurried the kids out of there as soon as I got my drink, and Brooke spilled a little bit of her drink on herself. Brooke is... delicately, I say, "picky" about her clothes getting any moisture on them. She started in with the bawling once again. As I'm dealing with this fiasco, I hear, "Ma'am! Ma'am!"

I turn around and I foolishly forgot to wait for my change... which was like $10! So I pull the kids back through the crowd, and set her drink down. As I reach for a napkin to clean her up, her entire drink dumps, making her cry even harder.

Luckily the salespeople gave her another complimentary drink, but by this point I'm about to lose my mind.

We head to the closest "clear" spot in the crowd, and I kneel down to clean up my little girl, and to move stuff around. I tell Brooke to hand me her basket so that I can (again, being a nice guy) carry it for her, so that she has a free hand, and the crying starts again. I work hard to maintain a good "cool", but tell her that I was being nice and she could carry it if she wanted, but not to have a tantrum about it. In that moment, I decided that Strawberry Festival time was over for us all, and we headed back to the car.

Roughly half a mile there, Brooke starts complaining that she's tired. I look at her face and can see that this exhaustion is genuine. She was red, her eyes were droopy and I actually got concerned about heat stroke. After all, it was a mile to the parade, then walking through town, then the crying and crying, and a mile back. She is only three.

So, I did what all of us moms would do in that situation. I put her on my shoulders. Bear in mind that I still am carrying the chair across one shoulder, my purse across the other, Corbin holding one hand, me holding her basket in the other; and not that I'm generally complaining about it, but I do have a bad shoulder, so this isn't helpful to that little ailment. The sight must have been pretty funny, though, I'd guess.

Finally, we got back to the car, and as we drove home, I hear Brooke screaming, "No.. No! NO!"

Her balloon came detached at the balloon end of the string. sigh. Luckily it was trapped in the car and I was able to tie it back on. The balloon is doing fine. It's staring at me from the ceiling as I type.

The kids are down for naps, presently, and in about half an hour we'll be headed to Red Lobster for Father's Day dinner with the in-laws. I hope the kids get some rest. I can't deal with more tantrums today.