Day-Trip Dilemmas

     My palms sweat, my heart races, and my mind crashes like an overloaded hard drive over the simple prospect of going on an outing alone with my two sons. I search the internet for ideas to entertain two rambunctious boys begging Google to give me the answer, the perfect daytrip to wear them out but not make me loathe every second. But with each click of the mouse my mind comes up with five reasons why that’s not a good idea.

     Now let me preface this by saying that I love my boys, and we have had some lovely adventures together. But we have also had some miserable, scream crying, tantrum launching misadventures that left us all a little shell-shocked and mom in need of a fifth of Scotch even though the Instagram picture looks like we’re having fun.

     For one their idea of fun and mine don’t always align. I am an impulsive, adventurous spirit who loves bike rides, hikes, museums, and shopping. My kids on the other hand think Chuck E. Cheese or Dave and Busters is the ideal way to spend a day. If there isn’t an electronic device controlling the adventure, then what’s the point. But I persistently soldier on and try to broaden their horizons, but they are young. I mean I remember hating my mom for dragging me out to Pioneer Village while she drew Victorian churches and school houses, and I threw rocks at the dirt and cursed her under my breath when I wasn’t whining.

     Plus maybe it’s just me, but I need another adult to talk or at least field half the questions of “Are we there yet? and “How much longer?”

     When I was pregnant, I dreamed about the fun outings we’d have making memories together filled with adorable conversations where we learned from each other, and made daisy chains and sang songs. In reality, after half an hour of a complete in-detail description of my son’s friend’s new YouTube video about a Minecraft cactus named Pete, my ears start to bleed. And Minecraft or Roblox or Smashy Road are the only topics of conversation my oldest wants to have. While my youngest speaks a language all his own and yells at me when I don’t understand what he’s saying.

     So do I suck it up and head to the arcade all the while hoping for spontaneous blindness and deafness from the bright lights, perpetual pinging sounds, and screams of happy children? Or do I slap on my uber-eager chipper face in an attempt to convince them that they love the Art Museum and cannot wait to see the new abstract art exhibit?

     Or there is always the beach but lugging all the beach chairs, sand toys, towels, sunscreen, snacks, and change of clothes alone over hot sand does not sound tempting. Plus, the added fact that I have one child who likes to be in the water and one who likes to sit on the sand and dig sand castles, but how do I supervise the both of them. Maybe not.

    Theme parks means a lone rider or a battle to the death for who gets to sit with mom. Water parks means grabbing the screaming six-year-old out of the wave pool while chasing the nine-year-old from slide to slide.

     I honestly don’t know how single moms do it. I now realize why my own mom drank lots of wine or sent me to summer camp.