Papa’s (reminder) Lessons in Patience *UPDATE*
*UPDATE* The photos and video have been removed from this post. Sorry if you missed it. : )
Things take longer after that first baby is born. Getting in and out of the car is an ordeal. Today was a reminder lesson for Papa. Since Cancer we have been to visit family and to a few local stores. Nothing like what we did today.
Each event that a family decides to attend requires packing. Does this ever stop? When a child is first born it seems that so much stuff has to go everywhere all the time. Now at 3 & 4 even a short event requires forethought. However, I am often short on forethought. Today after hearing the roar of the engines for nearly two weeks, we decided to walk to the IMS to check out some of the loud beasts.
Papa’s Patience 1: Mama changes her mind. Walk >>> Drive.
Because we live nearby we have driven passed the track frequently without noticing long lines or traffic delays. So we said, “hey, let’s drive, just in case we have a huge melt-down.” Because it is a cool morning, I have on a long sleeved (itchy) shirt and jeans. The girls have on jackets and hats. Papa, of course, is dressed appropriately in some stylish hiking shorts, a long sleeved (but light, not itchy) shirt and comfortable shoes. The appropriate attire, however, does not keep him from being cranky. And Cranky is exactly who he became when he saw the stupidly long line to get into the track.
Back to plan A, Walk.
Papa’s Patience 2: Mama is frequently wrong. Drive >>> Walk.
So he drives around the block as G. says quite matter-of-factly that we, her parents, like to argue. She went so far as to say that we were GOOD at arguing. Hmmm. I hadn’t quite thought of it that way before. Never-the-less we ended up back at home where, thank God, I can change my shirt. (Sometimes even Mama’s make bad choices.) Only now do I consider packing the water bottles for the trip. WTF?
Papa’s Patience 3: Mama frequently has lack of forethought. Itchy shirt >>> T-shirt, Water bottle fill-up
Thanks to Aunt Julie for the stroller. Instead of carrying our gigantic, but sweet ride, we had a tiny umbrella that could be folded up while sitting in the stands.
Papa’s Patience 4: Walking with a four-year-old.
Even at top speed, stopping to look at bugs, plants, rocks, cracks, trash….slow us down.
Not even a block from the house, I notice I already have to pee. My guess is that this is some sort of universal sick joke, knowing that only public restrooms amidst lots of people lie ahead. I think of returning home, when I spot the first blue box. Why not? We stroll over and I enter, and surprised, I find that it is the cleanest port-o-john I have ever seen ( or should I say smelled). The girls, (and Papa) decide to go as well. Never before could we have such synchronized tinkling. But as I help Isa to use this beast, I remove her hat. I have an intense fear of things, other than #1 or #2 of course, falling into the deep blue beyond. And before I can get her up and at ’em, I smash her fingers against the edge of the door. Much screaming ensues, and Papa takes over.
Papa’s Patience 5: Tinkle Town >>>> don’t men whiz on the go?
Papa’s Patience 6: Walking in the City of the Future while pushing an umbrella stroller.
We discuss ways to increase the height of the handles. Are these things made for only women to use or something?
Papa’s Patience 7: Isa saying, ” I’m hungry.” Immediately after arriving.
Papa’s Patience 8: Eating food.
And the inspiration for this post. Waiting in line, trips for napkins, ketchup (no cups or packages here!) And a return trip for more Track Fries. Isa had never seen a corn dog, and opted to have half of my brat instead. That is until she learned that there was a hot dog that could be dug out of the corn. Watching people come and go he sat there quietly.
And we still haven’t seen a car.
As we walk toward the stands, the excitement builds as the sound gets louder and louder and louder. Ending up on the top bleachers by the pits we clasped our hands over our ears. Well, the girl part of our family anyway. An astute father with his daughter out for a day at the track rescued us by offering some of the 50 pack of earplugs he carried with him. Thank God for observant fathers.
Papa’s Patience 9: Two wiggly girls who keep asking questions that no one can hear.
So now after I typed all of these patient numbers, I realized that I forgot one. Papa’s Patience 6.5 Mama stares at the free ticket trying to understand the extra “Admit One” Suite 412. He didn’t even say, “come on.”
The wiggles, the smell, the heat, the noise, it can be overwhelming, even for a mama (especially for a mama?). Time to move. Reminds me of being at a junior high basketball game. Down, up, walk-around, repeat.
Papa’s Patience 10: Leaving the stands >>>>> not seeing the speeds or times of the drivers.
Off we go in search of the mystery Suite. Bathroom break, umbrella stroller, long walk with toddler on shoulders. Even skinny cancer kids get heavy after a while. Up the elevator to a room with a door. Inside the room we find, food, beverage, toilet, shade, drunk dude. Everything that one could want from a day at the Track.
Papa’s Last but Not Least Patience: Loving us despite our tough teaching of Patience.