Friday, June 8, 2012

The Bubble Trauma

The weekend Cassi was visiting me was also the same weekend as the Boulder Creek Festival.

Now admittedly, I haven't been to it in nearly 20 years, but I do remember it quite fondly from my childhood.

Well, I remember the inflatable pink flamingo my father got for me quite fondly. That flamingo was awesome. And then my mother threw it away "because it had a hole" but I think she just didn't like it very much AND I was slightly aghast by their unwillingness to try and patch it (Pinkie was part of the family for crying out loud). 

But moving back to present day....
But I wanna go in a bubble!

The very first thing we saw upon our arrival was a game where children were placed inside large plastic bubble and allowed to flounder around for a bit in a pool of water.

The only way this game could have been improved was if they put the bubbled children in the Boulder Creek itself, as seeing your own offspring inside a hamster ball is truly one of those priceless moments in parenting.

However, Adrianna thought the bubbles looked every bit as cool as Kristina did, and was NOT happy about my decree of no bubbles for the two year old.

When it was Kristina's turn to bubble, she climbed into the deflated plastic and looked back at me as they began to blow it up.

THAT look.
It was THAT look.

That look she gives me just before she loses it. It was the look she gave me when getting her ears pierced, and when her dance instructor mentioned Santa Clause.

I know what that look means, and what will quickly follow, and I stepped up and asked if she was ok and if she wanted to do it still.

She nodded that she was ok, and plunged right on into the pool before I could tell them to take her out.

And appeared to enjoy herself for about 2 seconds before completely freaking out and sobbing.

The crew running the hamster balls were great, and pulled her back out as soon as the bubble that had been in the process of being filled at her moment of panic vacated the in/out stand.

But she didn't calm down as soon as she was out and being carried off by mommy. Nor did she let the incident go, as she spent the rest of the day begging for us not to put her back in the bubbles again.

Cassi and I kept telling her over and over again that she wouldn't do the bubbles ever again if she didn't want to wasn't as reassuring as one might hope, and our patience with her dramatic reaction long past the scare quickly wore thin.

And it's that part of life where i just feel defeated. All I was trying to do was a be an indulgent mother to her child's whims during what was supposed to be a fun day at the festival.

But no, it ended up being a day of dealing with two very whiny and inconsolable children who just wouldn't let that first disappointment of the morning go no matter what other fun things we did that day, like overpriced bouncy house turns and souvenir toys.

Ah well, at least now we know she's scared of heights AND somewhat claustrophobic. 




2 comments:

  1. I hate days like that. Don't you want to shake your child and scream, "I'M DOING THIS BECAUSE I'M A GOOD MOM WHO IS SPOILING YOU!!!"? But they don't get it...until they are adults and look back thinking, "duh."

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