Meltdown Express
Lola, Locke and I met up with a few other moms and toddlers from our playgroup at a museum for a little holiday fun. They have an impressive holiday exhibit for kids complete with Santa and Mrs. Claus, a train ride through a snowy landscape, and a vintage train on display which, in its day, carried many a child on holiday rides. No doubt many of those same children are now bringing their children to the museum to see it.
As L+L and I were walking from the parking garage, we passed two women pushing a stroller who informed us that the train ride was broken and wouldn't be up and running for several hours. I thanked them for the information and was glad L+L couldn't understand what they'd just told me. After all, I'd been playing up the train ride to them in an effort to get them so excited about that that they'd think sitting on Santa's lap was no big deal so I'd come away with a cute holiday picture of L+S+L. But things rarely turn out the way you expect.
We met our posse at the ticket counter. As we were settling our business there, Locke had already spied the vintage train on display. It's only been very recently that he's developed an interest in trains but, as part of the transportation triumvirate -- planes, trains, and automobiles -- their importance cannot be overstated right now. He's downright obsessed with all things vehicular.
So, as Locke began his "must go over there now" chant (which sounds more like "uh! uh! uh!" than anything else), pointing as emphatically as is physically possible, I knew where we had to go. Now.
The vintage train was such a hit with the kids, we could have stayed there the entire time. And maybe we should have. But we spent a fair amount of time letting them climb in and out and around the train, and running around that area of the museum, before we finally took them to see Santa. I was hoping their excitement and happiness would continue through one nice picture on his lap. Although I knew that Lola's emotions could turn on a dime so it was a lot to hope for.
Santa and Mrs. Claus sat in a cozy little fake livingroom complete with fake fireplace, just steps from the broken-down new train that should have been whisking children around the faux-snow wonderland but instead was still on its tracks with a handful of engineers operating on its engine. But before L+L had a view of the train behind the acrylic partition, we peaked in the doorway at Santa and I tried to sound as excited as I could when I exclaimed "There he is -- Santa! Let's go say hello to him".
Lola began to cry immediately. I don't know if it was the claustrophobic little room, or if the tone of my voice had betrayed my fake optimism, or if it was the way you could see the outline of Santa's fake stomach and that his facial hair didn't even seem to be touching his face. Did she suspect that this stranger in a poorly fitting disguise was up to no good?
Locke, although more guarded than usual, began to play with a stuffed animal in the room and eventually mustered the bravery -- or curiosity -- to take the toy over to Santa. Santa picked him up and for about a second and a half, he was sort of on his lap. It was enough time that our friend Claire actually got a picture of him as he was squirming down.
Lola stayed just outside the Claus's lair, preferring the company of the train repairmen. And, once Locke stepped outside and got a good view of the train, he was glued to the partition. We watched them for a while and then decided to could go back to the vintage train and let them play around for a few minutes before we had to go home. But when I tried to get Locke to leave, the meltdown began. He was not leaving this train. He liked the train, he liked the men working on the train, he liked the fake snow, he liked the big crescent moon on the wall, he liked the robotic reindeer that nodded its head slowly up and down. He was not ready to go and wet noodled me until I relented.
During the struggle, Lola couldn't have been sweeter. She just stayed there, watching the train, waving at the conductor when he walked by. Sometimes I think twins can sense your limitations. When one is demanding all your attention, the other one oftentimes seems to realize it and steps quietly out of the limelight. Lola was as quiet as a mouse. Thank you, Lo.
Just as I was getting ready to strongarm Locke into the stroller, the workers all piled into the train for a test ride. Great. Now we can't leave because there's a chance we could get to ride it. So we stood at the partition while they did several test rides. Lola and Locke were so excited watching the train actually moving around its track. Lola waved as they came around and Locke just stared wide-eyed.
Finally they gave us the thumbs up. I tried to join our friends in line but Locke, thinking I was taking him away from the train, continued his wet-noodle meltdown. I was powerless. So our friends saved our place in line until we got toward the front of the line. Then I gathered all my strength and carried both Locke and Lola over to the line.
It seemed like an eternity but we finally got to board the train. I think Lola and Locke really enjoyed it, although they sat expressionless through two thirds of the ride. They finally began pointing and laughing at the animals in the snow and crying "mooo" as we passed the moon. And much too soon the ride was over.
I won't go into all the details of Locke's meltdown when we had to leave the train because I want to remember how much fun we all had. And I also realize that he only had a meltdown because he was having so much fun he didn't want to leave. That actually makes it worthwhile. Plus, it was a great workout for me so I didn't have to run during their nap.
Author's note: I've tried and tried to add a picture to this post but I guess Blogger has other ideas. I'll try it later in a separate post.
posted by Brenda at 1:11 PM
|
2 comments
