I wrote this last year and in the good humor of family adventures in theme parks, thought I’d share it again. Enjoy!
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Everyone has a phobia.
For some people, it’s spiders. Or fire. Or spiders on fire.
For others, it’s that feeling that they’ll be caught in public with just their underwear on. Or their teeth will fall out. {Recurring dreams, anyone?} Everyone has their fears.
For me, it’s waterparks.
Why waterparks? You may snort into your coffee as you read this post in this very moment. I can see the smirks. Simmer down.
Waterparks are my kryptonite. My worst nightmare, when you mix this idea with the three little people most important to us. They’re every insecurity and phobia that I have, rolled into one. I’m sure there isn’t enough space here to list my concerns with waterparks, and even if I did, you may have me committed.
But here’s a few:
• Safety concerns, for starters. I’ve heard of too many horror stories and I’ve seen too much on the news. There are too many variables in waterslides that can result in serious injury or death. Weight + height + speed + body/vehicle of choice + slide + water propulsion = who knows where my flailing body will land.
How do we know that the hourly wage teenager working in the park that day really paid attention to the scale or the height of my children as they’re getting into that raft? We go into ‘vacation mode’ at these places, and it kind of freaks me out. What’s supposed to be relaxing, isn’t really relaxing. As a mom, I must stay diligent and pay attention. If you think about it, we’re hurtling through the air like circus freaks at great risk, all in the name of a good time.
• While we’re at it, who said wave pools were okay? Or a good idea at all? I mean, how do we know we won’t get sucked into the wave maker machine thingy? What happens when all the people decide to cram into the wave pool on a hot day, and you’re more or less trapped, inner tube to inner tube until you can get out? And who said there are enough life guards?! I know there are regulations but who knows if the regulations are right? Regulations change when things happen. Just saying.
• Also, there’s that whole brain eating amoeba in the water, thing. Or something. The idea of swimming around in some chlorine-filled cesspool has always freaked me out. Hello, sanitation. The water is touching all our body parts and leakages, and then touching other body parts and more leakages. How do you know that last guy didn’t pee? Chances are, last guy probably doesn’t follow the rules and has a slight infestation of scabies. Can scabies spread through water? Do we know???
And while we’re on the topic, why are swim diapers really okay? They still pooped in the pool. Water still got into the diaper, and then still went back out. And then we all touched it. And that’s gross.
• Also also, what am I supposed to wear? I mean, I kind of need to be fashion forward when my imminent death occurs. What are the rules for an almost-forty mom of three who likes to work out regularly, but also really likes cheetos? Like, swimsuit bottoms and a swimsuit? A coverup? Swimsuit bottoms and a cover up? Where does one put their flipflops so that they can use the restroom in between rides? If I wear a hat will I lose it on the ride?
• Did I mention the water is cold? This is not a danger but count it as a con because the idea of being splashed with cold water is not my idea of fun. I don’t like being cold. Am I alone here? And what about skin cancer from all the sun? I can’t possibly stay on it all day for all the kids without them somehow getting burned. Isn’t all the sunscreen death lube anyway nowadays? But hey, let’s slather it on.
I can’t win for losing here. As you can see, per above, I look overly weird/paranoid/anxious/whatever if I talk about it. And I risk too much if I just go with it.
1967: In my parents’ day, people soaked in iodine and smoked behind the rides whilst drinking spiked Tang for hydration.
2017: We’re all going to die if we go to the waterpark.
*For what it’s worth, my mom says some swim instructor forced my head under the water as a baby when she signed me up at the local Y for lessons, and it never sat well with me after that. It probably depleted oxygen to my amygdala so I hyper extended it. Or something.
**It should also be noted that my only experience with waterparks was with me as an awkward tween. I ventured to Shipwreck Island with my family and received the wedgie of all wedgies. There I was, sputtering off the slide, coughing up my left lung, and there were too many exposed body bits in the front to grab and adjust before the water settled. #taylorswifthasnothingonme
I am not an adventurous soul.
I probably married the wrong person, because he’s the complete opposite. As in, drives me crazy, seeking out adventure, complete opposite. He wants to ride and do all the things. And he wants to take our children with him.
So last weekend when we decided to travel to the local amusement park for a little getaway, {which was totally already borderline for me} Jamin wanted to buy tickets to… wait for it… the waterpark.
Much to my utter dismay. And slight terror.
I kept thinking I’d get out of it. That I could be nervous from the sides looking on while the kids rode things within reason. That I could hold on to our stuff so we wouldn’t get a combo of ebola and toe rot in the bathrooms and I wouldn’t have to worry about what to wear because I could just put on a big floppy hat to hide my anxiety while I people watched and analyzed outfit choices and prayed silently for my children’s safety.
Just call me the SNL church lady of water parks.
I even tried “forgetting” to order a swim shirt that I really wanted online. I would forego the two piece {what am I, insane?} and the plan was to brave it with my mom suit. On some mild, opening ride, wardrobe malfunction would occur and if people didn’t vomit and close the pool themselves, I could at least sit out with my massive hat and debilitating anxiety.
But that plan was foiled when Jamin ordered some swim shirts for me and had them sent to the hotel ahead of time.
What. A. Pyschopath.
There was no escaping this death trap. To make matters worse, I was roped into this one, with a bunch of “Come on, mom!” Capitalized by Jamin who questioned what my kids really were going to remember about our trip: Mom participating or mom sitting out like a scared old SNL church lady.
For the record, I was totally cool with that latter. Especially if my outfit came with a fan.
Fine.
At least now I looked like some cool surfer poser chick.
The night before, I read up on our local variables for all things catastrophe so I could tell the kids which rides they couldn’t ride. I researched deaths at this particular park so I’d know what to avoid and why. {There were none, which means they’re overdue.} And on our way out of the hotel that morning, I proclaimed that if something happened, it was all his fault.
He said “Fair. But only if, when you all have a good time, it’s also all my fault.”
The first ride, I was shaking. I literally thought I might have gastrointestinal distress between worrying about my kids breaking their necks and simultaneously drowning, whilst hanging on for dear life. In retrospect, this would have also shut down the ride. But it was okay.
Ride danger scale: 5 / Anxiety scale: 10
Pros: Not as bad as it could have been since we didn’t die. {I warmed up a little to the idea.}
Cons: Still horrifying because all of us were on a raft going down a very steep and sketchy slide and we could have flipped. Also, the water was cold.
The second ride, we split up, and decided to go down one of those toilet bowl slides. You know, the kind where you come out of the first drop and then swirl around a giant bowl, and then into another slide. Basically, you wait in line for forty-five minutes to enjoy a ride for one. Wheeee!
The boys went first per their request, and I carefully watched while they completed the task at hand. I think they were scared “mom” was going to shut down the slide, and they wanted to get their fun in before I told them they couldn’t go.
Next up, was Emerson and me. {Jamin was by himself because I wasn’t about to do this solo, and he was behind us because he thought I might try to back out.} It should be noted, once again, that Emerson is her father reincarnated and will ride anything. ANYTHING.
We got into position.
We anchored ourselves with our float until the lifeguard said we could go.
Before she said “go” I asked said lifeguard if it was scary.
And off we went. Launched down the tunnel. Into the toilet bowl thingy where we swirled around. And around.
There were ear piercing screams.
And then I realized I was the one screaming.
Not out of sheer terror… but absolute glee.
Which turned into laughter.
OH MY GOSH… I’M HAVING SO MUCH FUUUUUUUNNNNNNN! I screeched up to Jamin who was still waiting, looking down. I’m pretty sure in all my excitement I let go of the raft and threw up a gang sign. Or something. It may have been that KISS sign. Or hang lose. I don’t know because hand signs are hard. At least I didn’t flip him the bird.
And you know what? I actually had a good time with my family that day.
My kids don’t remember mom complaining about how scary things were {for the most part} because I was willing to try new things.
My kids don’t remember my cellulite because I pointed it out and was too insecure to put on a bathing suit. I just rolled with it.
They remember races on rafts and fun as a family until they were absolutely exhausted.
They remember trying new things.
They remember laughing until their faces hurt.
They remember embracing the moment.
So I guess you could say maybe I didn’t marry the wrong person, after all. Maybe he’s just right for me.
On the flip side, perhaps I add a little balance to the crazy, with my own form of crazy, too.
*It should be noted that I did learn some sensible boundaries. Like, for instance, flip-flops are always good in the bathroom and scary dark small tubes where you slide with your body are an absolute hard NO for me. It was dark and I thought I might drown and I could see nothing. Who’s idea was this?! I also got a couple of raw places and two holes in my new surfer shirt on my back to prove it. RIP surfer shirt. I didn’t know how claustrophobic I am until that very moment. Yes, add claustrophobia to the list. Mama tried.
**I thought I was alone until I waited it out at the next dark tunnel ride for the kids, with some more moms who had also gathered for their families. They said it was their limit, too. Camaraderie at last. I am not totally crazy.
Hi my name is Ashley, and sometimes I have anxiety. I overthink things and I put up walls and I get stuck in a rut. That day at the waterpark was a huge growth day for me. It would have been easy to sit on the sides and be kinda grumpy and fret because I didn’t really want to be there. I’ve learned that it’s not easy to keep pushing those boundaries and established comfort zones, and it’s even harder to stay open, the older I get. {While also being safe for my family. No worries, I was still diligent.}
Like one big life metaphor.
So we can fuss and fight and complain and shake with debilitating fear. We can be totally grumpy and refuse to try new things and stay where we are.
Or we can have fun, try something new, throw our hands up,
And enjoy the ride.
Bonnie says
Such a cute post!! I almost drowned when I was about 12 in Galveston, Texas and never got over it. My best friend and I took my 4 kids and her 2 kids swimming every summer and to waterparks and I don’t think they had any idea how scared inside I really felt. Thank goodness for my best friend because if the water was the least bit deep, I let her get out there with the kids and I stayed much closer to the shore. Ice cold water at Turner Falls, Oklahoma was such a turn-off for me but she and all of the kids really enjoyed it. Going to Galveston, Texas I made sure that all my kids had life jackets and started telling them to get back to the shore if they got more than about 3 feet away from it. I realize that I was a little paranoid about that since that’s the same place where I almost drowned. I only got in the water at all because I wanted my kids to have fun. They all are grown up now and enjoy being in the water so looking back on it, it was worth it to me to try and “pretend” to be brave and have fun.
Jen says
I am howling. BECAUSE I SWEAR I WROTE THIS! ???????????????????????? This is totally, 100% me to a tee. We have 5 kids ages 9 and under and my hubbie dragged us to a water park last summer and before that Great Wolf Lodge. Both times with a nursing baby. Which that alone caused enough anxiety. Ever try nursing an infant while wearing a bathing suit and huddling under a towel in freaking hot weather while also watching 2 toddlers in the toddler pool? Plus my 6 year old still giggles and points out that I am scared to go on the big tube slides. Yup thats me!
Marian at CMShaw Studios says
Yeeessssss! Good girl! Sorry about the surfer shirt. But Yay you!
The Other Marian