On Saturday, Chris and I put aside a fair amount of trepidation and took both kids to a local town fair. We expected to be there maybe two hours before one or both of the kids had an irredeemable meltdown and we hightailed it back to the car. We finally dragged the kids away five hours later, and would probably have stayed a couple more hours if not for the babysitters who were due at our house in two hours and a desperate need for showers, baths, and naps.
We had a great time. It was just this perfect day where the kids were sweet and charming and absolutely well-behaved and we all had fun and enjoyed the day and the activity and each other. And there was good Thai food and sno cones and a merry go round and art projects with shaving cream and a dog show and kid bands. We enjoyed it so much that we decided we would go back on Sunday.
And then on Sunday morning (after Chris and I had a fabulous date night and even saw a movie! In the theater!) (Star Trek, it was great), Mia lost her shit. She screamed and cried and whined and yelled and stamped her little feet for three solid hours. She had far more chances than she should have to pull herself together and go to the fair, and she just couldn't do it. And just like that, one of the best days ever melts into one of the worst mornings ever. We redeemed the day with an afternoon trip to the pool, but I think we were all shell shocked for the rest of the day.
Kids are nuts.