Yesterday morning, we farewelled the chooks, packed the car with Vegemite sandwiches, and headed off to the Royal Melbourne Show. It was a first for our little tribe, and even though they had no idea where we were going, they were very excited! Going to the Show was a childhood tradition for me, something I looked forward to every year. When I suggested to Christian that we take the kids to the Show this year, I knew there was a chance that the crowds and noise (not to mention the long and tricky trip to Flemington) could make our day less than pleasant. However, I was willing to give it a shot, and I am so glad we did!
Once we'd made a quick stop to K-Mart to buy sun hats and a bike pump (I wasn't prepared for a 21 degree sunny day when I packed to go to the Wild's, and the pram tyres were flat!), we found our way into the city, along with a couple of thousand other people with the same idea. We decided to park in my old neighbourhood and catch a tram, which (apart from hoisting the pram up the tram stairs) was a triumphant success. I have no doubt that had we decided to turn around and go home at that point, the kids would have been happy. A trip on the ding-ding!!!! How excitement!!
First port of call at the Show was lunch (home-made, of course - if they're still happy with "Bedgeemite sammiches" and a box of sultanas, who am I to argue??), a nappy change and a quick look at the map. We decided to head towards the animal nursery first, however, the little train ride at the entrance to the nursery stalled us...then the flying elephant ride distracted us...then it was the bouncy castle...the magic circus...and finally the spinning teacups...and by the time Jack and Phoebe had spun, bounced, danced, flown and toot-tooted their way around the littlies' amusement area, the queue into the animal nursery looked a little too long! Maisie, meanwhile, had sat in her pram patiently watching the big kids on their rides and smiling away, until she dropped off to sleep sitting up.
It was pretty hot work having all of that fun, so we stopped off at the parents' room to check pants (the kids, not ours!) and have a quick drink. We had a visit to the alpacas and the poultry pavilion, but the sight of hundreds of caged chooks was a bit distressing for young Phoebs so we moved on! Christian and I made the executive decision at this point to begin moving towards the front gates, as we could see frayed edges getting more prominent. However, we avoided disaster by two small but clever manouvres - we put Phoebe in the pram and Maisie in the Baby Bjorn, and we bought everybody icy poles. Crisis averted! The kids were so delighted with their icy poles that they stood (or sat) perfectly still in the middle of the crowd and ate their ices with big eyes. I got a running commentary from Jack about the colours in his icy pole, and what they tasted like. Phoebe didn't utter a word until the wooden stick was licked clean! Meanwhile, Maisie had discovered a new trick with fantastic results. She loves being in the baby carrier, both facing in (so she can snuggle me) or facing out (so she can see everything). Usually when she's facing out, she waves her little arms up and down and jigs her legs, so she looks and feels like an 8 month old Irish dancer on speed. Yesterday, the noise and sheer excitement must have inspired her, as she discovered how to scream...as in screech at the top of her lungs with joy. We parted the crowd effortlessly, my baby and I, simply by flapping arms and emitting eardrum-bursting yelps of happiness. The louder the music became, the more enthusiastic Maisie's screeching was!
The last treat we had promised the kids was a show bag, although at this point in the day we were pretty sure the icy poles had clinched our nominations for parents-of-the-year. But I just couldn't renege on our promise, and even the exorbitant prices (since when did show bags have an average price tag of $25???) didn't dissuade me. We told them they could choose one (and steered them away from kids walking past with five or six each...), so Jack decided on a Ben 10 bag, and Phoebe wanted the Dora one. Well, I must say those bags were worth every cent!! There was some fantastic gear in there, and they were so overjoyed at their prizes that it was worth it just to see their little faces (Classic moment: Jack was pulling everything out of his bag, and came across some 'punching' gloves and a body protector. My face fell, until he exclaimed, "Look Mum!! Cooker gloves!! Like the ones in the kitchen! I can use them to make cakes!!" Yes, my darling, you can absolutely use those toys meant for violence to bake anything you like!!). Clutching their show bags, with rings of icy pole-goodness around their mouths, we screeched and flapped our way to the tram stop to begin the journey home. Apart from dropping Phoebe's hat in the traffic and nearly losing Maisie out of the Baby Bjorn when I bent over to retrieve it, the trip home was fairly uneventful. All three fell asleep in the back seat, which meant they were full of beans when Aunty Bec and Uncle Chris came around for dinner. We had a lovely night with them, especially since Aunty Bec had baked a delicious dairy/egg/gluten-free chocolate cake (with strawberries on top!) After polishing off their fish and chips, Jack and Phoebe enjoyed a piece of cake so much that Phoebe declared proudly, "Mummy! I've got a chocolate t-shirt!" Not to mention a chocolate face, and chocolate fingers...
Eventually, the kids were worn out enough to go to bed (or to be more precise, they went to bed when the unusually high glucose levels in their bloodstreams had subsided) and the grown-ups sat up chatting. It was a lovely way to end a fantastic day, as we always love catching up with Bec and Chris (and they are always understanding when the extent of our 'entertaining' is to flake on the couch!) I am so glad our kids had fun today, and Jack already has plans about which rides he wants to go on next year! It won't always be as simple and inexpensive (?!) as it was today, but it's a special September holiday treat that the whole family can do together. It would be lovely if my childhood tradition could be perpetuated through my children, if only that it would mean I would have a legitimate excuse to go to the Show for a few more years (or at least until they are teenagers and I am too embarrassing for words...)
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