It's All Backwards

In theory, I know better than to attach expectations to a date. That means that, in theory, I'm not ruffled by toys all over the floor, crumbs all over the kitchen counter, and CHEESE AND CRACKERS, MILA. COULD YOU LET ME SLEEP JUST ONCE.

Ahem.

Sometimes managing expectations is about throwing your cards on the table and yelling, "Let's go to Kennywood."

So that's how we spent Mother's Day.

For the third (or fourth? I forget) year in a row, we have season passes. Black Friday sales are the best thing ever, especially when I can take advantage of them from my laptop. Not talking to people is the icing on the discount cake.

Alexis, being the pro that she is, rides every single thing at Kennywood, often with a yawn and a "is that the best they can do?" There is nothing that strikes fear in her heart, not even my face when she makes me ride the Black Widow and I want to throw up. I've told her that when I throw up, I'm pointing it in her general direction, but she just smiles and throws her hands up in the air.

While we're on the topic of Alexis being completely fearless while on amusement park rides, can we talk about the fact that she's scared of actual life a whole lot of the time? Don't ask her to ride her bicycle without a helmet because MOM, THAT'S SO DANGEROUS. If she could, Alexis would go through life wearing a fully functional protective suit made out of bubble wrap and fireproof material.

The other kid, however, is a COMPLETELY different story. She's why the world needs to be wrapped in bubble wrap and I'm absolutely certain fireproof material exists to save us all from Hurricane Mila. She's dangerous, is what I'm saying. She's the kid who crawled to the top of the piano before she learned to walk. She's the kid who flies up and down the stairs as if she's been doing it her whole life. She's also the kid who I am constantly fussing at to stop hanging on the chandelier.

Seriously.

Every morning that girl climbs on top of the kitchen table and tries to swing from the chandelier. Every. Single. Morning.

Now go ahead and guess who hates rides. Actual amusement park rides that are meant to thrill and delight instead cause misery and sadness.

She super hates everything.

Except the swings. She would really like to ride the swings. Alas, she's too short. That means she stares at them longingly while refusing to go near anything else.

Kids, man. They most certainly keep things interesting.