The World According To Suz » $58 and a Stomach Ache Later…

1:49 pm$58 and a Stomach Ache Later…

This past weekend was the Orem Summerfest, granting us 48 hours of unbridled, community sponsored superfun.

Saturday morning Jon got up extra early for the 5k race that began at the Orem public library. The kids and I went over and, after searching high and low for a parking spot, stood shivering a little while we cheered him on. This was Jon’s first race and he did well, setting his first PR (personal record).

After the race, we went over to the park pavilion for the Rotary Club pancake breakfast, a breakfast that has become an annual tradition for our family. Zoe didn’t even make it out of the pancake line before dropping her plate—pancake side down—on the cement. It just wouldn’t be breakfast if I didn’t have to wipe ketchup, syrup, or both, off of the floor…err, ground. Several minutes after we sat down to eat, Zoe stood up and began dancing around, holding herself and crossing her legs as she hopped in spastic circles. I gave her a questioning look and I pointed to a row of Port-a-Potties. She froze and gave me a look like I had just asked her to sit on a bear trap to go to the bathroom. At this point she assured me that she could hold it—all day if she needed to—until we got home. I dragged her, kicking and screaming, to the Port-a-Potty. The rest of that story has been expunged from both of our memories. But I vaguely remember a lot of crying and screaming and something about someone being afraid they would fall into the big stinky potty hole and come tumbling out the other side somewhere in the middle of China…covered in poop.

We left the breakfast to take Jachin to his coach pitch game, where he literally SAT in the outfield and completely covered his face with my glove (yes, my glove because he couldn’t find his own glove). Occasionally he would totally fling himself backwards into the grass, making “clover angels” with his arms and legs, all the while wearing my glove like a hockey mask. I imagined that this is what that chainsaw wielding “Jason” fellow must have looked like when he played coach pitch. Jon and I stood along the side of the field, yelling at Jachin to stand up and at least pay some attention or we would just leave, to which he yelled that he could see out of the holes in the stitching and so he was paying attention. So neener-neener, take that, mom and dad… holes in the stitching. Meanwhile, I’m listening to another set of parents who are sitting near us and they are talking about how their kid can’t hit, and then they say something about how at least their kid’s actually standing up in the outfield. I sent them a stern shut up, punks with my mind. Ahhh, the joys of being the parent of the most disinterested kid on the team.

After the game (which, some-old-how, my son’s team won), we headed back to the festival for—insert drum roll here—the Carnival Rides! Woo hoo! Jon bought about $40 worth of tickets, which meant that each of our 2 kids could pick about 3 rides each. Jon mentally tallied how much the carnival ride people were making and swore under his breath and said he was quitting computers and becoming a carnie. I said good luck with that. Jachin wanted to know about the spaceship looking ride that spins so fast you stick to the wall. I made the mistake of telling him that you can climb the walls and lie sideways while it spins… so of course he jumped in line for that one. Crap. I had to get on with him in case he freaked out. We climbed the rickety stairs and walked inside the spaceship and stood against the wall. It was 20 degrees hotter inside and it smelled like vomit of carnivals-past. Poor little Jachin. I watched all of the blood drain from his face as we spun around and around. All of the other kids were climbing sideways and little Jachin was just trying not to hurl. I said, “Jachin, look at me, buddy. If you yell ‘woo hoooooo’ it makes your stomach feel better.” Which is totally true. So he did. He woo hoo-ed his little heart out. And after what felt like an hour, we slowed down. He climbed out and told my husband about how awesome the spaceship ride is.

Jachin and I needed food. Fast. So the kids got $4 sandwiches from the make-shift Hogi Yogi stand. And no, $4 didn’t include chips or a drink. And Zoe was mad because she had to pick off the pickles…with her own fingers…and now her fingers smelled like yucky pickles. I told her at least her fingers didn’t smell like the spaceship ride. Then I sat under a tree and listened to some classical guitar players while Jon and the kids walked over to watch the Apache helicopter land. I was a hundred yards away from the landing site, and still had dirt fly into my eye. The helicopter kind of killed the “mellow” I had going on from the guitars.

The festival ended with fireworks. We sat in the Jiffy Lube parking lot and watched the fireworks explode over the library. It was great. I love the festival spirit—when almost everyone is kind to almost everyone else.

And the kids fell asleep in record time last night… Zoe didn’t even make it out of her clothes. Kids asleep in under five minutes? Now that’s something worth almost barfing for.