Fairy Chirstmas Lights...

So I just had to write more about the trip to Tanglewood to see the Christmas lights mainly so that I can scrap about it later. The following are just some of the scenes that I encountered that night with the 3-year-old.


Jon and I walk up to the door and ring the doorbell. *pause* The door opens to a little girl who says excitedly, "Uncle Jon!" (I apparently am invisible and to be acknowledged must speak up.) "And..." I say expectantly. Confused silence for a moment from the little girl, then, "...and Aunt Cory." (notice no exclamation point.) It is moments like these when I seriously question why I brought Jonathan anyway.

This moment is made up for when she takes me into her room talking non-stop about everything under the sun including how much she likes my new shoes, purse, jeans, shirt, scarf, etc. (which are not new at all). To my relief, she does remember to take a breathe in between her merging sentences and occasionally puts her little hands on my face, one on each cheek.


Still talking non-stop while Liz and I are getting her dressed to go out, she stops mid-thought and pushes away the shirt her mother is trying to put on her. "Its too cold," she says referring to the shirt. "Put the shirt in the dryer for me, Mommy."


On the way to Tanglewood, "Go faster, Daddy!" However, to our dismay we run into a long line of crawling cars waiting to get into the park. We try to distract her to help with the waiting but eventually she starts crying with frustration from waiting and says, "Fair Christmas Lights are not very much fun."


At the entrance we allow her to get out of her car seat and climb up front with the guys. She is like a child on crack and begins pushing every button that she can reach. Liz and I just look at each other and smile. She's all theirs. At one point, she pushes the moving car into neutral, and after turning the radio down, informs her father that it is too loud. After all this, she somehow convinces her father to let her sit in his lap and handle the steering wheel. Despite the fact that she is 3, she seems to be doing a pretty good job driving. However, when we ask Tommy how its going he says that she keeps trying to make it for the Sienna beside us. Must be road rage.


Once inside the park, she is consumed by the majesty of the lights and wants to get out of the car so that she can play with the light figures of elves, Santa Clause, and other characters. They are just for looking, we try to explain to her. Then I try to think of something to help, and ask her which is her favorite, referring to the light-made horses out in the pasture? She points to the closest one and insists on getting out so that she can ride it. Her parents just look at me like Thanks, Cory. You are really helping us out here. Finally she settles down, with just the occasional suggestion of, "I just really want to play with them." At this point she is standing on Jonathan's seat with her head popping out of the sunroof, while he makes sure that she doesn't fall.

Suddenly, she sees lights of farm animals and starts singing Old McDonald in its shorter version. For instance, "Old McDonald had a -insert animal-, E-I-E-I-O!" Then she starts over, Old McDonald had a -insert another animal-, E-I-E-I-O!" This goes on for some time, each E-I-E-I-O accented with swaying and singing at the top of her lungs. Eventually, she looks to me after singing the first part of the song, and stops for suggestions of animals to insert. However, she is not happy with my selections: "I already did that one," she says with utter seriousness. I suggest another. "No, I already did that one." This time with obvious disappointment and a bit of scorn. I mentally note that if I wasn't laughing so hard, I should be forced to feel shame.

Toward the end of the trail we try to get her back into her car seat so that she will be safe before we get back on the highway. This is not an easy task. It takes three full size adults to make this happen, namely because she is stronger than you might think and because she is hanging onto whatever is within her grasp. So, one adult is gently attempting to push her to the back while she has braced herself between the two front seats with hands and feet. The other two people in the back are pulling (of course gently) and prying her little hands off of whatever she is grasping. An hour later, after several bribes and a few threats, we have progressed to moving her into the back seat portion of the car. The next challenge is to get her into her car seat.

Finally we have her strapped down and safe (from the rest of the frustrated people in the car) and she is devastated and crying and saying that she wants to go again. I try to soothe her by talking about how much fun we had and that I understood that it was hard to leave and say goodbye. Suddenly she brightens at the next turn and points out that there are some more lights ahead. I tell her that those are the Goodbye Lights and that we can wave and tell them goodbye. She is a little sad but reaches for my hand and tells me that we are friends and that she likes me a whole lot.

So with her little hand in mine, we ride through the last tunnel, waving goodbye to the Fairy Christmas Lights.