This week I took all my kids to Six Flags by myself for the first time. If motherhood is like a video game where we’re trying to earn points and survive new challenges the game throws at us, this week, I definitely leveled up. I’ve taken them many times with another adult, but this was my first solo expedition with my entire crew, and as I suspected, I spent the majority of our time in the waterpark section with the younger ones while my oldest and her friend ran around to all the roller coasters.
I don’t mind waterparks, per se. The initial splash down the slide is refreshing. I feel like a kid again. Yay. But after about hour three squishing around in water shoes, my toes start to wrinkle and I wonder if this is what trench foot feels like. I could take the shoes off, but I have fungalphobia and just the thought of my bare feet touching the high-traffic area around the slides, much less the soggy toilet paper-covered bathroom floor, makes me pass out in horror.
So there I was three hours into this endeavor and I turned a corner from whence I feared I’d never return. I texted my husband, Alex, dry and delightfully alone in his office at home, for support. READ MORE
