When I'm playing the role of Mama, I'm usually busy watching what they eat, monitoring their behavior, and keeping them organized and on-task. I love being their Mama, that's for sure. But there was something special in the air that day - maybe it was just the deliciousness of being together on an adventure - that let me be something else. I felt like saying "yes" to everything, instead of defaulting to "no." The air was crisp and cold, but the sun was shining, the sky was the bluest blue, and when "American Girl" came on the radio, both girls began singing along, bright-eyed in the back seat. There was no trace of sleep in their eyes, even though it was 6:45 on a Saturday morning. I got caught up in their free spirit and found myself singing along. Suddenly it felt more like a Sisterhood and less like the dictatorship that it sometimes defaults to when I have to be the Mom.
I learned a few fun things that day:
1.) Saying "yes" is more fun than saying "no."
2.) Saying "yes" opens doors to experiences we might not have had otherwise.
3.) My GPS is not infallible.
4.) Parking Ramp Attendants can be the most wonderful humans in the world.
5.) There is a direct correlation between the location of a venue and the cost of a Coca-Cola.
6.) There is a mysterious pathology behind the phenomenon of the "selfie."
Let me tell you first about saying yes. We usually can't drive past a gas station without someone asking me if I need gas. That sounds odd, probably, but the immediate follow-up question to that is always "And if we stop for gas, can I get a snack?" As you may have guessed, my default answer is "No". Today, on a whim, I just said..."Yes." There was a surprised silence in the backseat. Then both girls dashed headlong into the store to pick something out before I changed my mind. They made terrible choices, of course, (Pop-Tarts and Bottle Caps) but there was something about they way they looked at me - with shining eyes, almost - that made me throw my good judgement out the window and just go with it.
That first yes set the stage for the rest - I got caught up in their incredulous spirit and took my own delight in surprising them with my answers.
"Will you buy me another MSU t-shirt?"
"Yes."
"Can we go to Noodles for lunch?"
"Yes."
"Can I get pop to drink?"
"Yes."
"Can we go shopping?"
"Yes."
"Can we stop at Coldstone?"
"Yes."
I became almost drunk on their happiness, and something new began to form. Being their mom carries a responsibility to make sure they are healthy and well-taken care of; that often translates into having to be the fun police. I don't think I've been letting go enough; I haven't been as carefree as I could be, and as I let go of the tightly-held reins, I felt something new developing between us. Something that I usually only feel when I'm with my friends. Sisterhood.
And that brings me to #2: saying yes led to some new experiences. While Emma was at camp, Carys and I and went shopping together. We don't have enough time to spend alone together anymore, and I will admit that it delighted me to no end when she slipped her hand inside mine and snuggled up next to me as we walked into the mall. She's still so little, in some ways, and I am so grateful for these stolen hours of time together. She had Christmas money to spend, and was quite a little spendthrift as we wandered the mall. Nothing seemed to be good enough to spend her money on, though she did spend a lot of time browsing and showing me interesting toys. She was most excited about visiting Justice, where she declared, "I think I might die of sparkles in this store." We easily spent an hour there, trying on clothes and sifting through jewelry. She had $100 to spend, so I told her to have at it. But when it was time to break out her wallet, she just couldn't do it. The pile on the counter reached $68, but she put things back on the shelves until she had it down to a mere $16.50. Who knew that she would be so careful with her money?
We picked Emma up from camp around noon, went out to eat at Noodles & Co. with some friends, and then it was Emma's turn to shop. She had one store only in mind: Barnes and Noble. She hemmed and hawed over new stories or owning old favorites. She must have asked me a hundred times to tell her what she should do. (Red flag for me...I think I control things just a little too much, wouldn't you say?) But with my new approach, I just said, "Get whatever you want!" She would stare at me for a minute, then mutter to herself as she walked away to ponder. I think it was unsettling for both of us, actually.
Both girls slept all the way up there, which allowed me to listen to the radio and contemplate our arrival at Williams Arena. I know the way, generally, so I was pretty sure I had set my GPS correctly. I planned to follow a few simple turns and arrive safely at The Barn in plenty of time for the game. Which brings me to #3.
I can't really explain where I went wrong, because honestly, I have no idea. I was just blindly following the little arrows for turns on the GPS, and paying only minimal attention to the signage. I do recall exactly when I realized there was a problem. The GPS said "Turn right at Exit 18." I looked up, and saw no sign for Exit 18.
And the highway had suspiciously narrowed.
Into what looked alarmingly like regular streets.
And then I saw a sign that I have never seen before in my life. It read: End Of Freeway.
For real.
I had reached the actual END of 35W. Highways are sort of an abstract concept in my mind; they go on forever into the hazy distance, and I just glibly exit them at random intervals. It hadn't occurred to me that I would ever see the END of one. It was kind of like finding the actual bottom of a rainbow.
But I digress. So I found the mythological end of 35W and suddenly I'm at the crossroads of 5th St. and 10th Ave, and it's dark outside and I don't recognize any landmarks and I have absolutely no idea where I am.
Downtown Minneapolis is all about the one-way streets, too, so that makes it extra fun when you're lost. I was able to pull over and re-calibrate the GPS, thank goodness, but I found myself wishing I had driven our little Prius instead of the gigantic, hulking suburban. It would not be the first time I wished for that, just to give you a little foreshadowing.
My GPS calculated my new location and issued a new set of directions. This is the part where I needed my girls to help me out a little. It was getting dark and the heavy traffic, one-way streets, and sheer size of the suburban were starting to make me a little edgy. I asked if they could help me look for street signs. Carys said, "I can't read those words" and Emma said, "I forgot my glasses." And I was thinking, "Well super."
I could elaborate further on the adventure that followed, but in the interest of saving time, I will just say it took another 7 turns and twice around the block at Williams to find my way into the parking ramp. The mood of the day had not dissipated, however. I had felt all day that we were in it together, and I still felt that. The weight of responsibility hadn't invaded my psyche; I was edgy, perhaps, but not overly so. I knew eventually we would get there, and get there we did.
When we pulled into the parking ramp, I breathed a deep sigh and the girls popped up in the back, absolutely thrilled about the next part of the adventure. I've never taken them to a Gopher game before, and I'm sure they had imagined all sorts of wonderful things. As we were organizing our gear into pockets and purses, Carys suddenly said, "Mom! Let's take a selfie!"
Until now, the strange phenomenon of the selfie has been largely wasted on me; in my experience, it is a much younger generation filling up newsfeeds with photos of themselves in random places. I take a million pictures OF my kids; I have very few pictures WITH my kids. But that Sisterhood feeling was still crackling through the air, and suddenly a selfie seemed totally appropriate. We all climbed into position and began snapping away. In the darkness of the parking garage, all we could manage was a grainy shot of the three of us, but the giggles that ensued as we scanned back through them only added to the giddiness of the moment.
I checked the time: 5:40pm. Perfect. We bundled up into all our warm clothes (it was -15 degrees in Minneapolis) and began heading across the street to the arena. That's when I noticed that the Arena looked suspiciously dark. I hastily pulled out my tickets and checked the game time. *GASP*
8:00pm! We turned around and headed back to the warmth of the suburban. On the way back, I paused to ask the parking attendant, "What time will the arena open tonight?" He said, "7:00."
In the warmth of the truck, I contemplated our options. We could hang out in the truck for an hour and a half, or I could once again brave the streets of downtown Minneapolis in this enormous vehicle, after dark, alone with two girls who can't read the street signs. Hmmm.
After a quick search on my phone, I discovered a McDonald's about 8 blocks away. I mapped out the directions in my mind and decided we would give it a try. I looked at my parking pass, which stated that the ticket was good for 24 hours, so I drove down the ramp to leave. The parking attendant looked puzzled when he asked for my ticket. He'd given it to me only a few moments before. I hesitated, and explained that we would be back, I just needed to get the girls something to eat. He patiently explained that while my parking pass was good for 24 hours, it became void the moment I left the parking ramp, and I would have to pay for it again.
Maybe Carys' unwillingness to part with money comes from me, because I promptly decided that I didn't want to spend another $10. I told him I had changed my mind about leaving, and then asked if he would let me drive back in. He paused, looked at me with a truly sympathetic expression and said, "No, but if you want to stay, I can back you up the ramp to a parking space."
Ummm....what? BACK me UP into a parking space? Have you seen this thing? I kind of laughed and said, "Seriously?" And he grinned and said, "Yep. C'mon."
I wish I had security camera footage to insert here. I am supremely happy that there was no one at all behind us in the ramp. He carefully and patiently directed me as I inched my Suburban behemoth backwards UP the parking ramp. He asked me what I planned to do for the next hour, and expressed genuine concern about me walking my girls to McDonald's in the cold weather. He pointed out a Buffalo Wild Wings only a couple of blocks away, and even helped wrap a scarf around Carys' head as we prepared to go out a second time. What a super young man he was; that ordeal could have gone an entirely different direction.
Instead, my girls and I are half-skipping, half-running down the street to BW3. As we entered the bar, Emma leaned over and whispered, "Mom! Are we allowed to be in here?" I grinned and said, "Yep, as long as you're with me!" The place was packed, and there was nothing but Gopher Maroon and Gold as far as the eye could see. The waitress found us a seat, handed the girls a grown-up menu, and treated them like rock stars. The mood of the day amplified and I heard them order cherry cokes like they did that every day of their life, instead of waiting for apple juice in kids' glasses like they get at so many restaurants.
Carys ordered something called "Naked Tenders" which made her giggle so hard she could barely say the words without falling off her chair. Emma sauced up her wings like a pro and everything was just perfectly perfectly perfect. All this Sisterhood produced more photo ops:
Game time was upon us, so we headed to over to Williams. Now, when I got these tickets, I chose them only because the date happened to work out for our schedule. I didn't know that this was the Big 10 opener. I didn't know we were playing Nebraska. And I definitely didn't know that Lynx phenom, former Gopher standout Lindsay Whalen would not only be in attendance, but would be signing autographs at a meet-and-greet.
What good fortune! We got to the arena the second the doors opened, and were about 40 people back in the line to meet Lindsay. Emma had a Gopher tee, Carys had a Gopher hat, and Lindsay talked personally to every single girl that walked through the line. She paused for pictures, and was pretty much the most awesome famous person ever.
The game itself was uneventful in the first half. Nebraska was handling the Gophers pretty well, but honestly, my girls were more focused on getting up on the Jumbotron than they were about anything else. They waved at Goldie, they danced in the aisles, they cheered on command, and soaked up the full experience. And, of course, posed for selfie after selfie.
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| See the autograph on Carys' hat? She wouldn't take it off! |
I admit that after halftime I was itching to go home; I still had a long drive back, and we'd been out and about for 15 hours already. But the girls still hadn't made it on the elusive Jumbotron, and they were committed to the cause.
It's a good thing, too. Because our beloved Gophs came from a 17 point deficit in the last 5 minutes to win the game! The arena was crackling with excitement, and the girls were screaming their heads off, and in general it was one of my favorite arena experiences of all time.
We were in the truck and heading home when I had my first moments to reflect on the day. Both girls were out cold by the outskirts of Minneapolis, and with the radio playing in the background and the light of the moon guiding me home, I pondered on this new thing we found together. Sisterhood. And a selfie.
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