It was quite literally 106 degrees outside, and I was quite literally stuck in an ant hole with my little son, Alexander. Even for a mom willing to try anything, this was an uncomfortable predicament. I haven’t read any of those “how to be a good mommy” books yet, but I started to wonder if they’ve got this covered in their survival sections.
Labor Day Weekend is the one weekend a year when this traveling mom prefers to keep her bags unpacked and stay home for some local fun instead.
(Why battle all those novice travelers through the security lines at the airport, or spend the holiday stuck on the I-5?)
The
Kidspace Children’s Museum in Pasadena, CA is highly hyped in my new “Fun Places to Go with Kids” book and seemed like a good place to escape the heat. At first glance, I was disappointed, and wondered why I had dropped the $8 a person when the Children’s Department at IKEA offers more. (Last weekend, Alex refused to leave the store.) And, I suppose it was technically 25 degrees cooler inside the museum than the 100 plus degree blazing heat wave, but it wasn’t quite the cool expectation I had in mind. Then, we ventured past the baby room, where staff did try to get kids to sing and dance, and got to the big kid exhibits and burned off some steam.
Alex cheerfully climbed three full stories to the top of the Rain Drop Tower, (big clear circles representing giant raindrops that spiral around), jumped into the driver’s seat of a full-size jeep for some off road adventure, and then he found his way into an ant hole. From the basement of the museum, a child can enter the hole through an ultra-tiny opening, and then wiggle their way through, in total darkness, up one story and pop out through the top of an ant hill. Alex had made his way to the opening of the hole again and again, watching child after child find their way through. At one point, I had nudged him in and thought he might actually give it try. But, then when another little boy used his powers of persuasion….“But dad, I don’t just
want you to crawl in there with me, I
need you to crawl in,” I decided that maybe Alex needed me to lead the way.
So, down on hands-and-knees, and still crouching lower, I crawled into the darkness with Alex close behind. We slowly made our way to the top of the ant egg pile, pushed off the other little boy who had convinced us to try it, but then Alex didn’t know which way to go and the tears started to flow. It didn’t look good. Who do you call for help in situations like this? There's no emergency call box on the ant expressway.
(Suddenly, I was the novice traveler.) But, quickly, like the Queen ant herself, I grabbed Alex and “dug” our way up through the hole.
We didn’t brave the heat to check out the 2-acre backyard of the museum with mazes, ponds, tricycle paths and trains. And we’ll save the Nature Center for a visit in about 4 years. We could have saved the 50 mile round trip and instead gone to the local mall to play, but then Alex wouldn’t know where ants live, and mommy wouldn’t be reminded that it’s easy to want to rush your child into trying out all the bigger kid adventures even when it’s really best to cherish all he can do, and all he can’t do, now.
