It’s summertime and the kids are off school. They beg to let them stay up late since it’s summer break. I sympathize and let them stay up later. They wake up at their normal break of dawn time and we are off to the amusement park.
Hurry up, run to the kids’ area, don’t want to waste 5 seconds of time walking when we could be riding a ride. No, we’ve got to get our money’s worth out of these passes.
Let’s all ride this roller coaster as a family, even though one of the kids doesn’t like those kind of rides…no, you have to, we’re going to do this as a family. As we stand in the long line in the 90 degree heat, I get mad that he pukes from a mixture of heat & anxiety. Seriously? How could he ruin this moment, oh and I let him know I feel this way, all of us let him know that. Like the poor kid timed it and got sick on purpose, right.
I don’t understand why all three of the kids are whining that they’re hungry and their feet hurt. I told them to eat before we left and can’t they understand that I packed food for us to eat in the van after we’re done at the park? Don’t they know how I plan things by now? And why oh why do they keep asking to play those $5 games that they’re never going to win the dollar store prize because all the games are rigged? How could they be sucked in to all the marketing and gimmicks, when I’m clearly not.
Hmmm, could it be that they are tired? Could it be that I should have planned better and communicated better? Wait, could it be that they are little kids and this is how children act and I need to handle them & myself better?
Why do I feel that we have to race around and try to fit it all in to this tiny amount of time? I’m mad that I still haven’t learned that the kids respond kindly when I am kind and they are mad devils when I act like a mad devil.