Vacation: The True Story of a Tired Mom and Her Very Feral Child.

Oh no. This can’t be happening. I had thought the day was turning around, especially considering how badly it had started. For the third year in a row I took Squishy to Sesame Place in Pennsylvania. I was a little sad as Squish is now five and I was pretty certain this would most likely be my last year taking him. Of course nothing could compare to the first year I took him, my little three year old who loved his Mommy unconditionally. We spent most of that first year riding Grover’s Vapor Trail and just enjoying our time together. Now I was pretty sure I was in hell. Upon arriving at the park my usually fearless five year old informed me he was “too scared” to go on any rides, even the carousel appeared threatening to him (which he only discovered after we had waited in line). He asked me if he could get a soda and then wanted to leave, which wasn’t an option after spending the money on the tickets, the parking, the locker rental, and the hotel room. Squish ended up finding refuge in a bouncy house type apparatus there, and tried his hand at some games. After spending hours melting at the park on one of the hottest days of the year, Squish and I relented, changed into our bathing suits and headed for the splash park. And for about 90 minutes it was glorious. Squish was having fun going down the small water slides they had, and I was no longer sweating profusely. I was also proud of Squish for telling me he had to use the bathroom even though he had a swim diaper on. So there we were, using the bathroom and preparing ourselves to go back into the splash pad when disaster struck, every female’s worst nightmare. I got my period. To make matters worse I had no supplies with me as I wasn’t expecting it and I had locked all of my money up in a locker at the front end of the park. But then I thought to myself, it’s ok, it’s only the first day, it should be pretty light and usually my period stops when I’m submerged in water so I should be fine. Wrong and wrong. As Squish and I headed back to the splash park and got in the line again for the slide, I kept trying to discreetly check myself to make sure I wasn’t re-enacting the shower scene from Carrie while at Count’s Splash Castle surrounded by small children. I debated asking some of the mothers around if perhaps they had an extra tampon but I didn’t know the proper etiquette for that, does one approach a total stranger to ask about feminine hygiene products? For this I still don’t have an answer. After awhile I told Squish it was time to go and he didn’t object. However now I’m presented with a new problem as I still don’t have anything and there are no bathrooms in the changing area. I look through my bag and discover some baby wipes and I think “this will do.” Did I mention I had decided to wear light purple shorts that day? After changing, we headed into a blissfully air-conditioned gift shop. As I’m chasing my feral child through the gift store, picking up toys he had picked up and then put down, and repacking a lunch box he had torn the tissue paper out of, I noticed the baby wipe was seeping through my shorts. Time to go. Exhausted, sweaty, bloated and crampy, I carried myself, my little guy, and our three bags full of crap to the car. As I started loading my stuff I hear a voice call out, “Miss.” At first I’m confused because I became a very clear member of the “Ma’am” category almost 10 years ago, dude can’t possibly be talking to me. But he proceeds to tell me Squish slammed his car door into this gentleman’s car and I feel horrible. Luckily, there was no damage done to the gentleman’s car, and even though he was disgruntled (which I don’t blame him) he drove off without calling the police. Squish fell asleep in the car almost immediately once it started moving and I was able to enjoy my 30 minutes of peace. Then I was faced with a new problem, I have to wake the child up to bring him into the store. But I think to myself, we will just run in and out, it will be quick. And like so many things that day, I was wrong once again. As I stand in the entrance to the store, hemorrhaging and hoping it’s not terribly noticeable, I’m faced with a red-faced, screaming little bastard who is insistent we need to get the gigantic shopping cart he can ride in even though I only need two things. It’s moments like those where I am tempted to leave the little douche in the store. But finally , FINALLY, I have my supplies and we can leave. Once we get to the hotel room, we are able to eat and Squish is content to watch TV and play with his toys in the room and I am able to relax. As I lay in bed, reflecting on the day, I am still sad this will probably be the last year I take my little baby to Sesame. But I remind myself of how lucky I am to have this child, even if he is incredibly exhausting, and what a privilege it is to be able to watch him grow up.

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