Pregnant at the Amusement Park

Frank and I went to Hershey Park this past weekend with the youth group from our church. One of the other group leaders got some discounted tickets through his work, and we set the plan to go about a month ago. I did know I was pregnant at the time, and I did realize that this would mean I would largely be watching from the ground instead of screaming from runaway trains in the sky like I usually would.

However, this is Hershey Park we're talking about--have you ever heard the phrase "Hershey-Park-Happy?" It was coined by the institution, but is a true feeling nonetheless. I've probably been to Hershey Park 10 times in my life, and it's about equally fun each time. It's not too big, so you always get to everything you want in a day, it's consistently clean, and, oh yeah--that whole chocolate thing. Not to mention some of the world's freshest lemonade, and Pennsylvania-made Turkey Hill ice cream.

Needless to say at this point, I was okay with getting some outdoor exercise between what would inevitably be a day of lavish eating for me.

We woke at 7 that morning, making sure to bring Tylenol, sweatshirts for the evening, and a bunch of snacks--for us, and for the kids. I found myself running out of time, and decided that delaying breakfast until the car ride to meet the rest of the group was the time saver I needed. It did save me time, but not aggravation or stomach pain. By the time I got in the car, I was visibly clenching my teeth, and my eyes were bugging a bit...but darnit if we weren't RIGHT on schedule.

Frank immediately turns on the car stereo, containing the Hunger Games soundtrack we picked up before Easter, and turns to track 14--my personal favorite--which he hopes will ease the tension in the car.

Halfway through the song, and after a full cup of yogurt, I turn to Frank and say, "Good idea." He smiles with relief and satisfaction, stating, "I thought you might like that."

So we get to our destination no problem, meet up with the rest of the gang, and we're off to the park in 2 minivans--a boy van, and a girl van--the numbers were perfect and no one could resist. Before we separated, I had announced that I was having a baby in October, and did NOT want to be harassed about not going on roller coasters, as I was already upset about the sacrifice. The rate of knowledge prior was about 50%, so there was some excitement and chattering from the crowd.

I got some fun questions from the two already-moms in the car, (I love being asked about being pregnant, especially by people who have already been pregnant, because it helps me to find out if certain things are "normal" or not, including but not limited to constant runny noses, and insecurities brought on by maternity shopping.) and also enjoyed the pleasant feedback on our baby names. I absent-mindedly drank an entire 32 oz bottle of water without trying, and had to pee pretty badly upon arrival to Hershey's three-mile stretch of parking lot.

I led the pack on the way in, my eyes frantically searching for cartoon silhouettes of people wearing dresses. What may have been 45 minutes later, we found one right outside the gate, which I declared would be my first stop as I marched forward. One of our young guys said, "don't you want to wait until we're inside the park?"

"NO."

That was all I had to say about that--until I saw the long, unmoving, stereotypical line snaking out of the women's room.

"...Okay let's get inside."

And it was a very good choice, as the bathroom immediately inside the gates was almost cavernously empty. Don't follow the crowd, kids.

After relieving the intense pressure on my bladder, I realized that I really wanted to ride a roller coaster. I started searching on Frank's iPhone for at least one quack to say that riding roller coasters was perfectly safe for baby, as long as you didn't fall out of your harness. That of course didn't happen. Some people had written on message boards that they had ridden water slides, but many others had wagged the finger at them in the reader comments. The thing I decided to rely on was reading that amusement parks were pretty good at labeling what was safe or unsafe for those with-child, so I would just have to read all of the signs.

Luckily, they were all very easy to read:

Womp, womp. No fun for you.

First stop was the Comet (pshh, that one's boring anyway)--I waited and chatted with the mother of four extremely nice children about wearing sweatpants and early ultrasounds.

Next stop--the Great Bear (yeah, that's a fun one, but not my favorite). I used this time to go to the bathroom, and locate and eat half of a tomato and mozzarella sandwich at a nearby foodery.

Then--we did something I could do!! The Kissing Tower! It moves very slow, and gives you an awesome view of the park (and its surrounding parking structures!)

Here's a description of this ride's intensity from Hershey Park's website:
Mild Thrill Ride - This is a low to medium speed ride with expected changes in elevation and speed. This ride may require some rider body control and is not intended for unaccompanied toddlers or very young children.

Woooo. At least I got a couple kisses from my honey.

I also got to ride in those old looking motorcars that tap out at a rockin' 5mph around a fixed track. Two words: ADRENALINE. RUSH.

Then we got lunch! Frank got these awesome buffalo chicken french fries (that I ate about a third of). NOM. Let's see..then we walked though ZooAmerica (and took a bathroom break).

Then there was The Claw--use your imagination, that's pretty much what it looks like. Couldn't go on that, so I decided to try to crush some 4-year old's dreams of winning a cheap stuffed toy with a rubber mallet.

I succeeded on the first try--SELF HIGH-FIVE!

Then, there was Fahrenheit, which was brand spanking new, and taunting me with its terrifying 90-degree drop. I talked a somewhat reluctant Frank into getting on it while I calmly sipped one of those delicious lemonades (which would lead to a bathroom break shortly thereafter) I mentioned earlier. "You'll be fiiiine. The drop is steep, but look how SHORT it is! The rest of it's all twisty. You LOVE twisty."

I have to admit I was pretty proud of him. Drops aren't his thing, and that ride looked intense. I plan on using my skills of reverse-exaggeration to get my kids on roller coasters as well.

After that ride, Frank was a bit windblown, and had a headache. Understandable. We wandered with the group down to a site where there were two roller coasters (one of which was Storm Runner, my favorite,WAH) in very close proximity. I was exhausted from walking at this point (it's about 4pm), and Frank needed to settle his brains, so we found a nice shady bench and cooled our heels.

As the two-hours-between-meals mark set in, I ate the second half of my sandwich, and started scanning the area for a special, indulgent dessert. Boy, did I find it.

What I am holding, ladies and gentlemen, is a Fried KitKat Sundae with three, (count em) THREE scoops of Turkey Hill's finest creamery ice cream (and the monkey that 4-year old didn't deserve). I got way more than I bargained for on this one. I mean, I knew it would be awesome, but I just assumed they'd throw some vanilla ice cream on there and call it a day. Oh, no. That would make you Happy, but it wouldn't make you "Hershey Park-Happy". 

First, they made a criss-cross blanket of Hershey's Syrup on the plate, then we got to CHOOSE which ice cream we wanted (vanilla, strawberry, cookie dough), and they placed the carefully sugar-dusted KitKat heart-explosions alongside. I was about to take it off the counter, when she asked if I wanted hot fudge [as she encircled it with whipped cream]. YES PLEASE! I reached out again, only to be blown away by ANOTHER topping choice solicitation--Hershey's syrup (WHAT? that's already underneath!) or hot caramel? [Bewildered: No, thank you.] "You can also get crushed up Oreos, or Reese's, or peanuts, did you want any of that?" [mouth agape.] 

My literal response was, "I'm a little overwhelmed right now, so I think we're good."

Even without the last six toppings, it was so rich and glorious that Frank and I needed a stray teenager to help us finish it. And let me just say, KitKats were made to be battered and fried.

The magic pretty much ended there. I think the last bite of that sundae was exactly when it started to rain. We ran to the Chocolate World gift shop just as it was reaching maximum capacity, struggled inside for a while, and walked four miles back to the car in the rain. On the way, I made one last desperate flee to a deserted parking-lot-porta-potty in the pouring rain. It was worth it.

I took at a well-deserved 90 minute nap in the car on the way back. From there, we headed a few miles further from home, and watched the Jonny Bones UFC fight out with some friends, where I happily drank grapefruit juice while everyone else drank Yuengling. 

Overall, a very fun day, if more tiring and less thrilling than it might have been otherwise. I was happy to walk with my little baby around the park and hang out with some fun kids whose parents are at least 16 years ahead of me. It was also empowering to spend an entire day (and late evening) out without surrendering to x, y, or z after being behind the social curve for a few months. 

Lastly, and I don't mean to brag, but we did a little tally before bed--in the 18 hours I was awake on this day, I went to the bathroom TEN TIMES. I hear it only gets worse.