One of the greatest joys of motherhood is watching children have fun, especially when they are my own. Last weekend, my husband, children and I went to the Cinco De Mayo festival in Max Berg Park in San Clemente. I had signed my husband up (or myself, depending on if my husband wanted to watch our children or make tacos) to help make Carnitas/Tacos at our church's booth. Prior to leaving for the event, my seven-year-old daughter whined, "The Cinco De Mayo festival is
STUPID (a word I absolutely detest when coming from my children). My friend who went last year told me it was
b-o-r-i-n-g (another word I detest)!" Did she really think she needed to spell it out for me? Honestly, I had no idea if the festival would be
b-o-r-i-n-g or not, but deep down I was hoping that it would be fun, that by the end of the day my children would be thanking me instead of reminding me how I had once again failed to provide them with an action-packed, fun-filled day. I am sure somewhere in the motherhood manual, it states clearly that mothers are responsible for providing their children with fun-filled entertainment,
ALL THE TIME! My seven-year-old cried and complained the entire drive (six miles) from our house to our church parking lot across the street from Max Berg Park. My husband and I tried our hardest to ignore her, but in a moment of weakness, I did threaten to not give her the ten dollars I was planning on giving her, knowing full well that not giving her the money would really only punish me, because what could have been a fun day would not be fun, because she would not have any money to play the games, which would therefore make her day b-o-r-i-n-g!
We loaded up my two-year-old's stroller with wipes, water bottles, sunscreen and other necessities and then made our way over to the park. It was only 10:30 ( a half-an-hour before the start of the festival) so we did what we could do, walk around the park checking the booths out. The whole time my seven-year-old complained everything looked "stupid." I didn't even indulge her by responding, because I knew that would have only fueled her complaining. Sometimes I use motherhood wisdom to conquer a problem. I took great delight in pointing out all of the activities my five-year-old could do, and suddenly this tactic, silenced my seven-year-old. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her looking my way, unsure what to say, and after a few minutes, she played into my hand, stating she could do the same activities her brother could do, once she had "her tickets."
After our "twice" around the park, we made our way to the ticket booth. The deal or should I say, steal of the day was 50 tickets for $20 (most games being one ticket). I was surprised by some of the prizes my children were winning, a Thomas the Tank train set and a Bratz board game. After further investigation, I found some of the booths were run by family assistance programs. I started to feel guilty that my children were winning prizes from family assistance programs. Didn't we have an abundance of unused toys at home, toys that had been deemed- b-o-r-i-n-g, more times than I could count? But just as I questioning whether I should allow my children to keep winning these better than average prizes with their tickets, I saw something that made me stop for a moment. I saw the twinkle in their eyes, the excitement as they played the games and were handed these great prizes. Then I noticed the grin on my two-year-old's face, sitting in his stroller, licking the lollipop or as he calls it "Boppop" his older sister won for him. I took a deep breath and enjoyed the moment. The moment the complaints had dissipated and my children were having fun. They were laughing and running from booth to booth, from the jump house to the climbing wall (which was free and invaluable throughout the entire day) and winning prize after prize. There was no more pressure on me to please to provide entertainment, they were having fun on their own!
After making taking the children around to the games, my husband and I set up camp at our church booth and while he cooked tacos, I sat under the tent with friends and my two-year-old who played with a "Jesus Saves Balloon" (a far cry from my own religious faith, the Episcopal Church), but if the balloon message works for others, more power to them.
My kids continued to run around with their friends and only returned to drop off prizes, eat food and show-off their body tattoos from the free face painting booth. My seven-year-old was grinning from ear to ear as she showed me her peace sign. When I asked if she was having fun, which my husband was sure she would deny if asked, she just shook her head "yes" laughing as she ran off for snow cones and another round of games. As I watched her run off, I felt completely satisfied as a mother seeing the joy that all four of my children were feeling. Happy Cinco de Mayo!
