Hardly Amused at the Park

We went home for the weekend again.  Two weekends of traveling in a row = one tired mama. 

On Saturday we spent most of the day just hanging out at my sister's house, eating way too much and just being lazy.  In the evening, Punky attended her first community block party.  

We got there just in time for the car cruise, which made her dad especially happy.  I think Punky enjoyed it as much as he did.  She loves cars and is destined to be a little motorhead with her dad's influence.  She sat in her stroller on the curb, pointing at the cars as they cruised by, yelling out their colors with the same excitement her dad had yelling out the year, make, and model, and she clapped and cheered along with the crowd when one would light up the tires in the street.  It was adorable.

On Sunday we tackled Punky's first trip to an amusement park.  If I had to describe the day in just one word, the word would be exhausting.  Totally freakin' exhausting.

It was hot.  Too hot.  We had one over-excited, impatient four year old (my nephew) crying and whining because we weren't moving fast enough between rides.  We had one fussy eight week old (my niece) who wouldn't sleep so much as a wink the entire day at the park.  And then there was Punky, digging in the dirt and throwing rocks at every available opportunity, moaning and groaning every time she had to sit in her stroller for more than seven seconds, slapping other kids for no reason while in line for the carousel, and pretty much hating every ride we took her on aside from the train.  Sigh.

Punky's dad isn't much of a rider.  A log flume and the train is about all he can handle.  I, only the other hand, am a thrill ride junkie.  The higher, the faster, the spinnier, the better.  Of course I hoped Punky got my genes in this department, but the signs all seem to point to the contrary.  And I don't get it. 

Spinning is circles is one of her favorite pasttimes yet sitting on the carousel seemed to make her tummy yucky.  Maybe it's really too early to tell.  Maybe she's just too young and fear played a roll.  Maybe it was the fifty gigantic blueberries she ate at my sister's the day before and the three wonderfully messy diapers we had the pleasure of changing on benches at the park.

Five adults and one teenager vs. three kids under five.  We may have won some battles, but the kids won the war.  By the time we left the park, everyone was more than ready.  I wouldn't necessarily call it a bad day; we did have some fun and it was just nice to get out and do something together as a family.  But I'm in no hurry to tackle another amusement park any time soon.  Next summer sounds good.  I think I'll recover by then.