Have kids, won't travel

Today Kent and I took our kids to the zoo for something called Boo at the Zoo. In case you're too stupid to figure it out by yourself, Boo at the Zoo is annual Halloween celebration where kids and adults can wear costumes in public without looking like they got lost on their way to the Renaissance Festival. We decided that we'd like to experience our kids having hysterical meltdowns in someplace that isn't our house, so this morning we loaded them into the car, ran back inside for water, ran back inside again for a Bear's costume and then went back inside AGAIN for my wallet. Then we drove 45 minutes to our local zoo. ("Local" might be relative.)

Eighteen billion families had the same idea as us, so finding a parking spot involved three arguments, one trip the wrong way down a one-way street, six parking space false alarms, two rage induced tension headaches (me and Kent) and a fifteen minute walk to the zoo entrance. For some reason we never figured out, Bear's dragon costume was wet which was perfect for 38 degree weather. Luckily we had plenty of time to dry it off with a diaper on our walk from the car to the entrance. As it turns out our double-stroller, which is so wonderful on strolls along Cherry Creek trail, is NOT as user friendly in an overly-crowded public venue. But we would not be deterred! We had costumes! And we'd paid $26 to get in!

Of course the first thing we did was find a booth with candy and help ourselves to six pouches of Sour Patch Kids and Swedish Fish. The next half hour was spent attempting to redirect Bear while he slowly ate Swedish Fish and ran into people. (Maybe you're wondering why we didn't put him in his stroller? Obviously because it's easier to steer when it's empty.) All the while we attempted to cajole him into being interested in the animals. Here's a helpful life lesson: kids will always pick corn syrup over majestic animals. The end. Once his candy was gone he became a little more interested in the animals. We showed him the primates and the birds. You might notice that's not very many animals and that might be because two-year-olds have fifteen minute attention spans. Then we got more candy, realized we were an hour and a half overdue for a nap and decided to leave. Here's a parenting tip: a kid who has missed his or her nap may appear fine. Then, out of nowhere, there will be a tantrum equivalent to a nuclear explosion. You will be very, very sad. You face will look something like this:

Leaving before frowny-face stage is crucial. We made it all the way to the car before anyone started to cry. (For the record...it was me. I was tired and hungry and have poor coping skills.) Then Bunny started to cry. And cry. And cry. And cried the whole drive home. In an attempt to not feel helpless I drove home at 80 miles an hour and we got back to our driveway FOUR MINUTES sooner than we would have if I'd followed the rules of the road. That's a win in my book. We put the kids down for their naps and attempted to not kill one another out of mutual frustration and exhaustion. Then we took a nap, ordered pizza and congratulated ourselves on our yearly attempt to leave our town and venture downtown with the kids.