Every year Sean’s company provides a free cedar point day for employees and family. Last year we went with the kids and my sisters. I was 30+ weeks pregnant, with a 10 month old baby, and a 3-year-old. It was sunny and 80 degrees. Watching Evie on the rides was cute and all, but I was in hell. I juggled Millie in a carrier and the stroller while trying to help Evie ride whatever she could. Sean and my sister ran off to ride a few rides and left me with the girls and my regret.
I looked at Sean and declared that next year I would not be pregnant and we would enjoy this day without the kids. Sure enough, I scheduled a sitter, and the relief sitter, and bought expensive ass fast passes so we could ride everything. I packed up my pump for the day and off we went.
“You should really wear tennis shoes Julie,” Sean said looking down at my strappy sandals.
“F off,” I said smiling.
Don’t tell me what to do, DAD!
Whenever we get a chunk of time in the car together without the kids I bring out my old CD case full of some of the most emotional cds you’ll ever hear. I figured it was fitting, emotional roller coasters would prepare us. We could spend the day driving and reminiscing with these cds. It makes the two hour drive to the park too short.
Before hopping out of the car to skip hand in hand to the entrance, my eyes glance over at the thermometer… 90 degrees, at 10:00 a.m.
Let’s do this.
We take a break and I go pump. Cedar Point provides a sanctuary for families. I say sanctuary because they kept the room at a nice 50 degrees.
Okay, probably not that cold, but it was cold.. and it was wonderful.
We left our safe haven and returned to the blazing heat. With our fast passes we walked right onto the next ride with no wait.
They should really warn people that if you aren’t 13 anymore, the fast pass might just be the fast pass to vomit. Which I did. Several times; while the 13 year olds laughed in the stalls next to me.
I emerged from the bathroom sunburnt from my feet to my shoulders, but my face was a nice shade of pale white. My feet ached with every step I took. A giant blister had formed on the balls of both of my feet.
I complained, and whined, and wanted to go home. Sean was supportive and took me to the nearest air conditioning for some water and food.
I sat in the diner so crammed full of sweaty people that the air conditioning accomplished nothing but circulating the smell of the food and sweat. I didn’t touch my food and had to concentrate the whole meal on not throwing up on the table.
Had roles been reversed and Sean was sick and complaining about his feet I would have verbally abused the hell out of him.
Suck it up you bitch baby!
So, I decided I’d rally. We spent an absurd amount of money on those passes and I would rather throw up every time than give Sean a reason he could make fun of me.
But ow my feet hurt, and my god I can’t ride one more thing or I’ll throw up all over everyone.
Standing in line for the next ride I looked around at all the other riders, fearful for their future. I had zero confidence that my stomach could handle this ride, but I climbed in a buckled my seat anyway.
To my surprise, no vomit. Sean and I put together that the heat was probably just as much to blame as the rides. So we took frequent and long breaks. We walked from the pumping room back to the other end of the park for a ride, then back to the pumping room.
By the end of the day we must have walked the length of the park a dozen times. Sean and I both had to sit down on benches to rest every few hundred feet. It happened, we aged. When did that happen?
We had planned to stay until the park closed. By 7:00 sean and I were complaining about our feet, our nees, our sunburn. I looked at him and said “it’s time to go before I fall over and you have to drag me to the car.”
HAPPY FATHER’S DAY DADDY WE LOVE YOU SO MUCH! Thank you for all you do for us.