I think that title just about covers it.
Look! Everyone in the family is now a "Jolly Rancher". That means we can ride all of the rides. Not that we all want to, but more on that in a minute. I tried to make Ryan pose. Just like last year, he refused. I guess he isn't all that amused I get so amused by making him stand by the height markers. ;-) I'm pretty convinced Jac is going to be taller than any of us (That would not be a huge feat and that does not exactly mean he will end up tall. It's weird I even think about it, I suppose. Height is a non-issue for me. Fortunately.)
If I could have any picture that I didn't take from when they were small, among the choices would be of the one of her standing by this sign the first time we went to Hershey. She was 4. And short enough to be in the smallest category of riders. She's always been adventurous and was disappointed to find out she couldn't ride everything. For the whole next year, whenever we wanted her to eat something, we would say "If you want to be a whatever the next size up thing is, you have to eat this." And she would. That went on for a few years until she got big enough to ride everything she wanted to ride. It's funny now. And sort of interesting to think about. I've never made my kids eat anything and have generally been relaxed about what they eat and when they eat it. (Mostly, because I don't like people telling me what to eat and when to eat it?) I guess using amusement park rides to bribe her to eat is/was a little out of character with the rest of my philosophy. It must have been more about efficiency. "Eat and be done with it so I can get on with things." Yeah...pretty sure that's what it must have been about. :-)
Back to the rides. Jac and I don't like them. Ryan and Alicia can't get enough of them. For the first time ever, we split up at the gate and didn't meet back up until the park closed. Turns out, it was the perfect solution. Jac and I looked at the animals and watched a sea lion show and rode little kiddie stuff and had the best of time.
At some point, he wanted to ride some little, water thing that sort of resembled a low-level, roller coaster. Just as we were boarding, though, there was a power failure and the thing got shut down. I talked him into some other one. The power went out while we were on the tracks. That was fun. For like 20 minutes. Let me remind you neither of us was too keen on being on that thing in the first place.
So...we spent that whole time taking weird pictures. This one cracks me up. He looks like a caricature of Ryan, lol.
We found out at the end of the day Ryan and Alicia were stuck at the top of a loop on one of those things that's scary enough from the ground. For a long time. Maybe today was the day for working out electrical problems?
And now...on to the last part. Psych. and country music.
If I wasn't deeply involved in a psyche class that's messing with me a little bit, it would just be about the music. But, I am. And it is messing with me. Because those things always do. Not in a bad way, just in a "I'm thinking too much about it" kind of way. If you know me, you know I don't need to think more than I already do.
The bottom line with this class is that it has reaffirmed everything I love about myself are things I got while I was still a child. There isn't anything about who I am that didn't originate there and there isn't anything about who I am that would have come some other way. It is strange I have come to a point of knowing this. It is strange if I had to do it all over again and got to choose the environment in which it occurred, I wouldn't change a thing. It is even stranger that while I know that, I do not choose to raise my kids that way. For a variety of reasons.
Probably on the verge of offending some folks...so will move on.
We were listening to country music on the ride home.
For someone who doesn't listen to that kind of music, I know an awful lot of songs. It is also worth noting my life is evidently audibly organized with country music markers. Who knew?
Alicia does listen to it. She's old enough to have reasonable conversations about life. Trying to combine my markers with her experiences and level of being able to relate her life to mine....ha.
For example, this song came on:
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What does it mark? A period of Saturday nights (possibly over a period of years) in a bar called "Elaine's" where there were dead deer on the walls, a shuffleboard table and a jukebox that gave you five songs for a quarter. I doubt I ever had more than a quarter, but I'd pick the same song all five times. This one. Unless "Elvira" was a choice. Then, I'd alternate. Pretty sure that got on everyone's nerves. Even if they were too drunk to care if the kids were being so rough with the shuffleboard the cornmeal was going everywhere.
I suppose it is worth mentioning there is only one person in my current world who can relate to this story? It's interesting to laugh with someone about something that really isn't that funny. Still...it's who we are.
My child? She didn't laugh. She didn't "get it". Why would I be in a bar when I was 8 years old? (As if I was really only there once and didn't spend a good portion of my life there from birth to thirteen.) She has never seen a juke box and she has no idea what shuffleboard is. Some things can only be explained so far.
Fast forward a whole lot of years to Tim McGraw. She, at least, knows who he is. Was asking her if she knew which song made him big. She couldn't wrap her mind around the fact he was just singing in clubs in OKC when we lived there and then that song happened. And then the incredulous "So, he was just a normal person?" "Yeah. Isn't he still?" It makes me wonder if I ever thought famous people were somehow different than "normal" people.
And then Travis Tritt came on which reminded me of some outdoor concert we went to when she was a baby and he was there....
Hmm...this is making me sound like I listen to country music. I don't. I listen to Jesus music that is too radical to be played on mainstream radio or I listen to music on the other end of the spectrum respectable, forty-year-old, white women are probably not supposed to listen to.
Can I help it if I like it?
All of this brings me back to that psyche class. I am loving that class. .