Experience 31 and Unwanted Experience 32

Sometimes what I’ve learned from my experiences about myself has been more important than the actual experienced. Take for example this latest experience. With everything I’ve done with my children, I’ve never taken them to a live show outside of Disney World, so I figured it was about time.

Andrew saw the advertisement for the Phineas and Ferb Live show and asked if he could go. Andrew never asks to do anything, unlike his adventurous sister who constantly asks for things. I immediately purchased tickets to cash in on this rare occasion (Like the same day he asked; I didn’t want him to change his mind).

So Wednesday my two children and my godson piled into my car and headed toward Baton Rouge. (I will mention at this point that I’ve never actually driven to Baton Rouge. Usually someone else drives me. I promise this will become relevant at some point in this story.) From the moment we started down the road, I realized my complete inability to handle noise stimulation.

Two hours in a car with screaming kids, nearly two hours at a show where kids are encouraged to yell in participation, and two hours on a return car trip home plays havoc with my anxiety levels and makes me want to run towards an empty room in the middle of nowhere.

Surprisingly, my children remained quiet during the show as they watched attentively. It was the screaming kids around us this time causing the noise. I suppose my three had exhausted themselves in the car on the way to the show. Their one constant complaint was of wanting a snack, which they couldn’t eat in the River Center theatre. They sold the snacks, but you couldn’t bring them into the theatre, which didn’t make sense to me and definitely didn’t make sense to the three who kept asking for them. Cara’s only comment on the whole experience was that next time she wanted tickets in the front row because she wanted to be able to go on stage like the other kids that were able to dance with the characters. My first thought was how could my kids be so different? Andrew would have hid under the chair in mortification at the mere suggestion, and my daughter wanted to be onstage dancing so everyone could see her.

It was on the way home that my noise threshold reached excess. My GPS and I have a love hate relationship- it loves to get me lost and I hate it. Anyway, I ended up lost. (I still don’t know exactly where I was.) The kind police officer who gave me my first ever speeding ticket was ever so kind when he explained how to return to a place that I was familiar with. The kids, sensing that I was moments from a breakdown, remained quiet for ten minutes, the first time of the entire journey. (Maybe that had more to do with the police officer than me though since my yelling for quiet hadn’t made much of an impact before.)

After dropping my godson off, my children sensed my stress and did what they always do in that situation. They decided it was about time I laughed. My son succeeded first, but then my daughter said, “Raise your hand if you want boobies when you’re older.” That was it; the car was filled with laughter instead of quiet tension.(She always manages to come up with something that I have to wonder what is going on in that little head of hers.)

My children are great, though the next time we go see a show, it will have to be a much shorter car ride. But I’ll have to pay for that unwanted ticket before there is a next show. Sigh.