After much deliberation, we decided to go to the county fair this week. We couldn’t justify armbands at $16 apiece for six people, not after spending $10 a head for Christian’s, my and Alex’s admission, so we bought one book of tickets and rationed the rides to three apiece. It felt very miserly, indeed, but to obtain unlimited rides for our family would have cost us over $100 for the evening. For two hours’ entertainment. Not even remotely justifiable. It’s frustrating; they’re pricing families right out of the event.
We had the kids choose a ride, and they went one at a time to stretch out the enjoyment. When Nicholas went into the inflatable obstacle course, Julianna plopped her bottom on the gravel and began wailing. We were prepared to ignore the drama, but the carnival employee caught my eye and surreptitiously waved her in for free. I don’t like Julianna being exempt from the rules, but on the other hand, I thought maybe this girl had some connection with Down syndrome that made her want to reach out. So I let her go.
And then she snuck into the “Scrambler” ride that Christian and Alex were going on. I pulled her back out around the fences, and the operator–again–caught my eye and told me to send her in. (Throws hands in the air.) This carnival company was overtly Christian, so maybe they had some sort of philosophy about people with special needs.
As an aside, on the topic of carnivals, this:
Because doesn’t everyone want a giant plush corn cob to treasure for ever and ever and ever, Amen?
I will never understand carnival prizes.
This morning I woke up at 4:30 and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I decided to get my Jazzercise out of the way early. I was surprised to see how dark it was. One of the other women began the class by moaning, “Oh, I hate it when it’s dark in the morning! It’s a sign that school’s getting ready to start!”
I said, “I was thinking the same thing, except I like it, and Hallelujah!”
Because you see, my children have decided the purpose of their existence is fighting with each other while making epic messes in the basement. I can’t decide how much I should be arbitrating. Because I would spend all day at it. Literally.
However, I do have a couple cute moments. Like this Nicholas-ism. “How old are you, Daddy?”
“Wow. I can’t even count that high!”
And the fact that Michael is making his first forays into helping around the house. He is dying to be a big boy and clear the table. Every time he brings me a dish he has the biggest smile on his face. He’s so proud of himself.
Let me close by talking about Alex and Michael a bit. They are so very adorable together. (This is being written with Alex reading every word as it goes down. It’s crimping my style, people, I’m telling you. 🙂 ) It’s a beautiful thing to see how much he loves his baby brother, and how much his baby, or rather, toddler brother loves him in return. Compared to the rest of the bad blood in the house it warms my heart. But their relationship isn’t perfect, either.
You see, Alex is quite particular about his food. Remember this post? He’s still very slow and methodical. When he has fruit snacks, he lays them out on the table from least to most favorite, and wanders around the room, looking at the computer screen while savoring the one in his mouth; then he returns to the table for the next. The only problem?
Michael Mayhem, of course. The child who climbs everything and eats anything. The end result being, of course, that Alex often doesn’t get to eat his favorites, because they’re gone by the time he gets there!
(I keep telling him you can’t leave things lying around in this house and expect them to still be there when you come back. But you know some lessons kids seem incapable of learning. Like, yanno, “You take care of you! I’ll take care of (fill-in-sibling’s-name).