The things we do for our children, eh?

I took the kid to an amusement park today (I should get extra credit for the fact that it's three hours away, too). As you may have surmised (possibly because I have stated it, in vivid detail, in countless blog entries), I am not big on rides these days. I can handle a wooden roller coaster (because, to date, they have not figured out a way to work in spiraling inversions or to force you to stand up while riding) and maybe a carousel, but that's about it. I don't think I'm the only one because at one point today A was on a teacup-type ride and as I was waiting near the exit for her, a lady turned to me and said, "I can't even watch. I'll just look over here until it's over."  She then proceeded to busy herself by poking around in her purse. This particular ride was pretty much my worse nightmare. Each individual cup (they were more like bowls, I guess) spun, each cup was part of a pod of three cups that also spun, and then of course the whole shebang spun around as well. Three levels of spinningness. My kid sat in a cup with two other gluttons for punishment, and the three of them used the wheel in the middle to spin themselves so fast that most of the time I couldn't even pick out my own child as the cup whirled past me.

My daughter is petite for her age. She is 43 inches tall . . . by the skin of her teeth, I think. She was tall enough to ride a couple of rides by herself this year. However, in most cases, I had to ride with her whether it was required or not.  This is because I just don't think I can send her into a line by herself. Not because I think she's going to get abducted or something, but because I have seen what she does while standing in line: picking grass and tossing it around, swinging from/sitting on the guard rails despite a loudspeaker warning all "guests" not to do that under any circumstances, and finally, absentmindedly (and repeatedly) walking into the adult in front of her, such that her face makes direct contact with that stranger's butt. So yeah, I just don't think I can let that act proceed without supervision.

We rode three roller coasters today. The first two were fine. The third one, not so much. The minimum height is 43 inches, so she just barely hits it, but she was super-excited to go on this menacing metal behemoth. We got in line. I read a sign about the ride that made mention of "multiple inversions." Well, a dream come true, no doubt . . . for masochists. As soon as the big harness thing came down over my head, I remembered why I hate this type of ride. No matter how you attempt to prevent it, your skull slams from side to side until your brain oozes out your left nostril. A was delighted, I lived through it. I had a colossal headache almost instantly and later stopped at a Walgreen's on the way home. ("Mom! You're going to take aspirin right here in the parking lot?!")  The other thing that caused me great pain at the amusement park: a $9 funnel cake. I can't figure out how that is even legal.

So, you may be wondering why I would go to an amusement park when I really don't care for such things. In short: I did it for my daughter. She'd been talking about it for weeks and had a blast. I think next year I will probably invite one of her friends to come along, though. Then they can ride together. Now that she is getting a little older, that seems more feasible (I'd rather take two second-graders on a trip like that than, say, two four-year-olds). Also, I'm going out of town next weekend . . . by myself (I'm meeting a friend, more on that in my next entry). So, I'll get three days to myself and figured I could "take one for the team" by suffering through a few rides. Her dad got the house to himself for the day.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I picked up a bottle of two-buck-chuck at Trader Joe's on the way home and I think I can kill off this headache for good . . .