Last Monday we took Everly to the fair. I was doing a photo session with the Lovely Lisa and I thought it would be fun to bring Evie along to enjoy the extravaganza of the senses that a fair can offer. When we arrived we immediately ran into my sister and her fiance. As a group we made our way over to the ticket booth and prepared for the kick in the gut prices… $1.00/ticket, wow, these guys must make a killing when some rides require 6 tickets! Brandon and I bought 30 tickets figuring that would get Evie on a few rides and maybe even one for the two of us. We walked around a bit looking for an age appropriate ride for E, however all of the signs on even the most babyish of baby rides said that the child had to be over 2 years of age; well that sucked. So that’s when we decided it was our turn. The Zipper loomed in the background. The loud music boomed, the engine made that click, click, raspy shuffle sound and people’s screams cut through the background fair chatter- this was our ride.
We left Everly on the sidelines with my sister… E found this very entertaining as there was loud music nearby and she was “dancing” in her stroller. While waiting in line, B and I looked back at her often and laughed. I thought it was because I was entertained by her but looking back now I can clearly see that it was avoidance. Our turn to enter the steel box quickly arrived. We climbed inside. I immediately asked B his opinion on the structural integrity of the “cage.” He replied that all the bolts were new… apparently that is a promising sign. I confirmed with B that the workers responsible for putting the zipper “together” had to have extensive drug and alcohol testing. He reminded me of liability and all that legal stuff… okay, so it’s safe I told myself. The cage was locked. The attendant told B to hold on to the bars. I gripped mine with white knuckles. The cage lurched, the ride had started.
The next 90 seconds or so of my life flashed by in an adrenaline rushed blur. I remember thinking at first, “hey, this is kind of fun, I was even laughing.” But as the ride went on and I had more time to think I, thought. All I could think about was that if this creaking, crappy cage flew off it’s hinges Everly would be an orphan. Thank goodness we did our wills and double thank goodness that our life insurance was just finalized at least she would have money to bring to her new family the MacDonalds! Oh but wait… does life insurance cover death by idiocy? NTS… check that out.
Half way through I said to B, I want this to be over, I am not having fun. My teeth were clenched, my forearms were burning, my calves were tight from pinning my toes against the bottom of the cage (as if this would do anything if true danger were to befall us!). And then the sky opened up and the hand of the creator stopped the ride, I was safe. We walked off and I walked as fast as looks normal to Everly. I scooped her out of her stroller and we danced together. I thought now this is my kind of adrenaline rush, dancing on the firm hard ground with my baby girl in her cowboy boots! I kissed her soft pudgey cheek and took a good whiff of her baby smelling goodness- safe at last.
As I put her in her stroller and began to walk around again I quickly became confused and ashamed of myself. What the hell had happened to me I thought. I used to be the ride Queen. No ride was too big or too scary. I used to trick my little cousin and sister into getting on to scary rides with me because I didn’t want to ride alone (both of them have since learned to love scary rides thanks to my interventions, lol). I used to be the ride pusher, now I was the ride dodger. Where did my sense of adventure and fun go, where was my ever-present thirst for danger? Am I utterly lame now? Ugh. What a rude awakening. Not only are my boobs totally thrashed, but now I can’t go on rides without momming out? What has happened to me :)-
We have a trip to Disneyland planned for September, pretty much specifically for the rides. Time to mom-up I am telling myself. Yes I said mom-up; the term “man-up” is useless, moms are way tougher than men we all know that!
And because all posts are made better by pictures, here is Everly!