Not your average suburban mom. I’m more your typical, normal, commonplace, everyday, garden-variety suburban mom. With a thesaurus.

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Mission: Do Not Puke

what it is you are about to do.  I'm GARY
SINISE - I wouldn't lie to you."

I've always considered myself a strong person. I generally do what I feel is right and don't worry too much about what other people are thinking of my life decisions.  (I save my insecurities and caving into peer-pressure for the important areas of life, like fashion and my knowledge of pop culture.)  But something happened on vacation that took me by surprise.  It happened so quickly; I had no ready defense.  And I saw how easy it is to cave to peer-pressure.

This is my story.

Eve: Mama, you're like the best Mama.  I'm so glad I'm at Disney World with you. I want to be paired with you because you go on all the good rides with me.

Kelly: Thanks, kiddo.  You're pretty awesome, too.  What's next?

Eve:  Mission: Space.  It's where we pretend to be astronauts.

Kelly: Sounds good.  I think Papa, Grandpa, and Hosanna are also riding.

We all make our way over to Mission: Space, and discover there are two versions of the ride; Green - the pansy version, and Orange - the HARDCORE THRILL SEEKER / TOTALLY NOT A WUSS version.  Brian, Dad-in-law, and Hosanna are all card-carrying pansies, so Eve and I wave goodbye to them in superiority as we enter the Orange line.

This is when I saw the first warning:

This might be a good time to mention that I totally suffer from motion sickness.  I can't even ride the teacups on the Mad Tea Party (not a political statement) because I will puke everywhere.  But I took one look at Eve's face, all super excited to ride this ride, smiling at me with a hero-worship smile that communicated that she was so thankful to have such a partner in crime, me, a totally cool mom, that I decided, "It really can't be all that bad."

But a nagging thought sat in my brain, asking me to weigh exactly how much I wanted to do this for Eve vs. how potentially miserable I was going to be during this ride.  I was doing pretty well keeping it at bay (using the popular techniques of denial and distraction) when the audio warnings began. They went something like this:

"You will not die on this ride, Sublurban Mama, but you will probably feel like you would welcome death if it came. Because this ride will make you cuh-razy sick.*  You may choose to opt out of this version of the ride at this point."

*I may be paraphrasing slightly here.  And it may be a paraphrase more of what I heard than what was actually said.  All I know is that yeah, it was a dire warning.

I put on my brave face and charged on in the Orange line, because a Navy Seal would not back out on a mission, and I sure wasn't going to start on one as important as this one.  A mission that carried with it the opportunity to be the sole person on this vacation with the ability to delight my child.  Who's hardcore?!  MAMA IS HARDCORE!  Hoorah!

I wavered a bit at the second warning, because this one came straight from a prerecorded video of Gary Sinise.  Since he was in both Apollo 13 and Mission to Mars, he obviously knows what he's talking about when he warns of the motion sickness that could result from intense G-forces like the ones we were about to be subject to.  This warning also offered a time and place to step out of the Orange I'M SO TOUGH line and scurry over to the Green line to experience the pansy slightly less intense version of Mission:Space.

I looked over at my awesome kiddo who just happened to be rolling her eyes at the thought of opting out of the maximum thrill available.  Dude.  Now it was a matter not just of her personal disappointment if I stepped out of line, but of the essential obligation I had to maintain my status as The Currently Most Awesome Parent.

I was nervous as we entered our seats.  I noted with increasing concern that even though we were secured in every possible manner, the thoughtful ride designers had still managed to build a barf bag holder within easy reach.  With all the restraints already in use that could not have been a simple thing to implement in the design plan, which made it seem an even more vital addition to the ride.

The ride? It was agonizing.

I did take advantage of the bags offered.  The first one had someone's freshly used gum inside (dude) and the second I gripped tightly in my hand as I chanted, "Don't throw up," for the duration of the ride.

Orange totally delivered on it's promise.  It was a "highly turbulent motion simulator thrill ride that spins and creates G-forces and includes intense maneuvers that result in nausea and dizziness." At the end I wobbled out of my seat and wore my "if I concentrate hard enough I won't puke" face to the exit.

No one had any idea how I felt until I finally sharply declined a bite of the space ice cream Brian purchased for the kiddos.  (*gag*)

Let it be known I maintained my "Coolest Mom in the Universe" status ... until I had to sit out Ellen's Energy Adventure because it was in a moving theater.  Ezra, at two years old, handled it like a champ.  Until the giant dinosaur roared and he flipped the heck out and when he joined me in the lobby I had to snuggle him on my tumultuous tummy. (Thankfully the giant cheeseburger I pounded after that restored my stomach to rights, and the rest of Epcot was sublime.)

So, in conclusion, even as a completely secure adult, you are still privy to caving under peer-pressure.  (Although since it was pressure from my kid it was more like heir-pressure.)(Which is a hilarious homophone because it was the air-pressure of the G-forces that actually made me sick.)(Heir/Air?)(*giggle*)

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