I married an amusement park enthusiast. He's crazy, that man. He loves all rides that twist and turn, and his body seems to handle them with ease. Impressive, I tell ya. I, on the other hand, can barely survive a ride in the back seat of my minivan without getting car-sick. Make me read a map while I'm back there, and it's all over for sure.
So we have this family tradition of attending our local fair every summer, and I have to admit that my adventurous spirit has been lacking most years. Just the thought of climbing the steps of the Tilt-O-Whirl about sends me over the edge. Lucky for me, for many years in a row, I've had a convenient excuse for letting my husband do the riding honors with our kids. Need someone to stay back with the baby and the stroller? Sure, I'd be happy to sacrifice for the family. Heh. Someone needs to take the pictures anyway, right?
My problem now is that my youngest is starting to ride rides. This wasn't supposed to happen. Last summer all of a sudden my little excuse was dragging her daddy off to the toddler helicopters, and three excited boys were yelling my name to "Come on, Mom!" Oh dear. Can't we all just ride the carousel together as a family?!
Somehow in the midst of sheer boy excitement (clearly before I could come to my senses!), I had reluctantly agreed to their request and found myself on this thing:
Somebody help me. Who knew my mouth was this big (don't answer that)? And why is no one else screaming (for all I know the ride hadn't even started yet - ha!)?! I told myself that I was pulling the natural "I'm here for ya, bud." mom-move when I grabbed hold of the two boy legs seated beside me, but between you and me, I was desperately reaching out for a little comfort for myself. Haha.
But guess what? I survived the ride that day. And I not only survived it, I actually enjoyed it!! Turns out my thinking was all wrong. Not all rides are as crazy as they seem, and a little effort on my part sure did go a long way in encouraging my fun-loving boys. We all left the fair that day pretty pumped up that we had accomplished something together ("Can you believe Mom actually rode that thing??"), and even a little more connected than we were when we arrived. And it was worth every bit of the "sacrifice" it took to get me out of my comfort zone.
To catch the rest of this post, join me this morning over at Good Morning Girls ...