Today was “Multiples Day” at Amaya Papaya, a childrens’ play place north of Orlando, so we made the trip to see what this place was all about. “Multiples Day” meant that twin, triplets, and more got in all for the price of one (normally 10+ per kid).. it was pretty cool!
There were a gazillion germs, I mean, kids there. This will be the true test of my kids immune systems because I don’t think they have ever been around that many other kids at the same time. Nevertheless, they had a great time. It was kind of like a big nursery school:
Lily immediately ran to the dress-up area, a threw on a pink princess dress. Along with the dress came some serious diva attitude. What is with the hand on the hip? A minute later I saw her pointing her little finger, and telling that boy to turn around and go down the slide. Oh my.
They loved the little mini-trampoline!
Playing with the cash register:
Ben was a big fan of the tiger puppet:
As we left the lovely playplace.. the spirit of Linda Blair somehow took over my sweet little princess and did it’s best to keep us from getting that dress off of her. Heads turned as she twisted and flailed, shrieking that deep-down-from-the-gut-cry that is reserved for only the most serious of offenses. It was perhaps the most epic of tantrums I have seen any of my kids throw as of yet. I had pulled the van up to the entrance of the place so we could get them in quicker, and the scene continued out front as she kicked and slapped at me while I tried to get her in her carseat. Let me tell you, you haven’t lived until you’ve been slapped in the face by a toddler in front of a room full of women, all watching to see how you react. I’m not one to smack back (what lesson does that teach?) so I gritted my teeth, wiped my brow, buckled her in and then continued to listen to her scream for a good 20 minutes afterwards. She was screaming at me to turn around and go back for the dress, which made me laugh and snapped me out of my seething bad mood. I turned on my Glee CD loud enough to drown her out until she realized the screaming wasn’t getting her anywhere. By the time we got home she was back to being sweet as pie.
I’m wondering, how do other moms see fit to handling those situations?