mizarchivist (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mizarchivist) wrote2019-07-05 08:51 am
mizarchivist) wrote2019-07-05 08:51 am
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Lessons learned at the carnival
I'm still luxuriating in the era where if I don't tell my kid a thing, she doesn't know it. Ex: the 4th of July carnival that happens in conjunction w fireworks here in Newton. We spent pretty much all day in the AC mucking out her room, which had gotten to the point you really couldn't see carpet or even really open the door without shoving something out of the way. Most of the time, I intervene before it gets this bad and spend a few hours sorting things out. But that doesn't help her figure out how to do it herself. I think I still did most of it this time, but because there was the excitement of "let's re-arrange the room" when it got cleared, she stayed with it.
So. post dinner, Kid and I head out to the carnival. PRIZES was the goal. Stuffies. Oh, to win a stuffie. She wanted to take kind of all her money, and I told her 5 bucks. She went for the pick up a duck and see what it says on the bottom: S M L - etc, for what size the prize would be. NO surprise, they were S-ducks. She got a snake. Maybe not even a snake, a snek. It was a colorful tube masquerading as a snake. She was deflated. Like, trying to figure out how she ended up with such a shitty prize when there were SO MANY DELIGHTFUL ONES right there. Sloths and unicorns, and owls! So, I say I'll pay for one more game. I had 5 bucks in cash after I bought ride tickets. Water gun race? Ooookay! Maybe it should have been better explained that if you don't WIN, there is zero prize, not even a snek. Maybe better off with the balloon popping game. She did NOT win. And was crushed, crying and betrayed by the system. Sometimes when your parent tells you that the game is rigged, it doesn't sink in til you lose 10 bucks and only have a snek to show for it. The lines for the shitty rides were long as hell by this point, so I sold back the 16 out of 19 tickets I still had to random strangers and told her we could get a light up toy. But I drew the line WRT +noisy. Nope. You can have a light saber. Not one that whistles. It's blue and looks amazing in the dark.
It was such a thing to watch her get frustrated, deflate, regenerate a bit of hope, then lose her shit. I let her be upset and didn't rush the process. She doesn't fit tidily anymore, but she can still sit in my lap and cry, which is a thing I think we all wish we could do sometimes. The prospect of selling back ride tickets, getting a flashy toy and OMG FIREWORKS!! and suddenly The Best Ever. Whew. Mischief- for now- managed.
So. post dinner, Kid and I head out to the carnival. PRIZES was the goal. Stuffies. Oh, to win a stuffie. She wanted to take kind of all her money, and I told her 5 bucks. She went for the pick up a duck and see what it says on the bottom: S M L - etc, for what size the prize would be. NO surprise, they were S-ducks. She got a snake. Maybe not even a snake, a snek. It was a colorful tube masquerading as a snake. She was deflated. Like, trying to figure out how she ended up with such a shitty prize when there were SO MANY DELIGHTFUL ONES right there. Sloths and unicorns, and owls! So, I say I'll pay for one more game. I had 5 bucks in cash after I bought ride tickets. Water gun race? Ooookay! Maybe it should have been better explained that if you don't WIN, there is zero prize, not even a snek. Maybe better off with the balloon popping game. She did NOT win. And was crushed, crying and betrayed by the system. Sometimes when your parent tells you that the game is rigged, it doesn't sink in til you lose 10 bucks and only have a snek to show for it. The lines for the shitty rides were long as hell by this point, so I sold back the 16 out of 19 tickets I still had to random strangers and told her we could get a light up toy. But I drew the line WRT +noisy. Nope. You can have a light saber. Not one that whistles. It's blue and looks amazing in the dark.
It was such a thing to watch her get frustrated, deflate, regenerate a bit of hope, then lose her shit. I let her be upset and didn't rush the process. She doesn't fit tidily anymore, but she can still sit in my lap and cry, which is a thing I think we all wish we could do sometimes. The prospect of selling back ride tickets, getting a flashy toy and OMG FIREWORKS!! and suddenly The Best Ever. Whew. Mischief- for now- managed.