Hershey Park Happy. Hershey Park Sad.

The quick intro to this is that friends of mine from high school come to Carlisle every summer to visit family at the beginning of July. Before we actually moved here, we always overlapped.  My friends have six kids and I have five.  The older kids took swimming lessons together until between us we had too many kids to bother with such frivolities.  We just threw them all in my parents pool and let them figure it out.

Now that we live here year round the visit from the other family has been much anticipated for months.  Today they scheduled a trip to Hershey Park and asked that we join them.  As I have been dealing with illnesses all week and I really didn't have the energy to take five kids to an amusement park from 10 AM to 10 PM, I opted for the lesser known evil.  The "sunset ticket" which allowed us in the park from 5 until 10 PM.

Taking several kids, several ages to such a place is always a challenge, but as the kids have gotten older it has gotten easier.  Having a special needs child at one of the most chaotic places on Earth is a challenge as well.  Again, age has made a difference....or so I optimistically thought.

As we got stuck in traffic, I casually mentioned to the kids that although we had left in plenty of cushion to visit Chocolate World before 5 PM (thus not missing any park time as CW is actually outside of the park), to stop there now would lessen the amount of park time and perhaps we should skip it.  The thought of going into the park without first paying homage to the now over-commercialized "factory tour" is apparently as sacrilege as telling the kids there will be no 4th of  July fireworks!  Those of you from Carlisle are well aware of the headline EVERY year in The Sentinel saying "there may not be enough funding for fireworks this year."  It sends my kids over the edge. Every year.  In addition, last year, due to the move, a family wedding, and a monsoon in NY, we missed fireworks completely.  This may be something from which the kids never do recover.  It has been discussed on a fairly regular basis, including during the winter months.  But I digress...

We were not walking through the entrance with out doing the Chocolate World thing.  Sawyer was very excited because this was going to be his third time going through the tour this year!  "And Mom,  it's only July 2nd." Clearly a new record to beat.  Thinking back, there was mention of Sawyer's leg falling asleep and feeling funny, but the whining was minimal and I apparently didn't give it a thought.  Thankfully, the experience was otherwise uneventful.

As we arrived at the gate, someone had to go to the bathroom.  In a large family, someone always has to go to the bathroom.  The fact that four of the six of us had stopped earlier to go did not matter, because said child "didn't have to go 5 minutes ago."

We get through the gate and texted with the friends as to where to meet them.  It was agreed they would wait until we got to the other side of the park....the way other side of the park, to get in line for this years new roller coaster, Laff Track.

I briefly glanced the direction of the stroller rental booth as we walked past.  Sawyer is 8 years old.  We did not go to Hershey last year and I couldn't remember what I did the last time we were at a walking intensive activity. Their Dad had taken them to Hershey Park a few weeks ago and there was no mention of a stroller.  Wow, I thought, have we finally gotten through the need to rent a stroller stage?  I mean, really?  The stage only lasted 16 years, in the blink of a disappearing $20 bill!

Sawyer has improved his willingness to walk greatly.  However, there are still moments where he insists on being carried.  All you perfect parents can just step off about now. He's my youngest kid of five and he has special needs.  The battles I can fight on a daily basis are fought, trust me.  This is not the child you can look down upon and say, "okay, if you are going to lie down in the middle of the park where people will step on you, we'll see you later."  Thus ends the portion of the blog where I defend myself to the reader.

Surprisingly, Sawyer walked the entire way across the park.  There was little to no fussing. By the grace of God it was a cool enough evening that the heat from the pavement was not penetrating the bottom of our feet.  Kids split off and parents drew straws to see who would go where.  Sawyer and I found ourselves alone for a bit.  He kept telling me, "I want a blue thing."  I told him the next time we see a guy selling raspberry lemonade, I would get one.  "No!  THE BLUE THING WITH THE
WHEELS!"  Oh crap!  He wants a stroller.  Did I mention we were on the other side of the park?  The park that has quadrupled in size since I was in middle school complaining about the long walk from one side of the park to the other.

I diverted with the promise of a train ride. Picture if you will a child who loves trains, but does not love loud noises. Noises for example, like train whistles.  For even more fun, let's pretend that oxymoron child has an aversion, no, an abhorrence, for people putting their fingers in their mouths.  A revulsion that can cause a major meltdown before anyone can understand what has set him off.  Now, let's take said child and put him on a train ride where the engineer blows the whistle at every opportunity. And, let's sit the child and his parent facing a Dad and his two children.  Let's pretend the younger child's fingers are lollipops and he cannot lick and eat them fast enough.  Now, to put icing in this proverbial cake, we should throw in a well meaning park worker whose job it is to go car to car and take pictures of the riders before the train starts. One of the things Sawyer hates as much as the finger thing is having his picture taken.  Such was the scene at the one and only ride Sawyer rode tonight.  True story.

After a difficult train ride where Sawyer was closing his eyes and crying while I was whispering to look the other way, the Dad and his two kids couldn't exit the train quick enough.  I got Sawyer off the train and in an attempt to do anything to improve his mood, I allowed him to spend $5 playing 10 games of skee ball!  Nothing makes me happier than watching my child drop quarter after quarter into a metal box so he can roll 9 wooden balls down a miniature bowling alley.  His efforts awarded him 2 tickets.  Two.  The Pokemon stuffed animal he wanted required twenty tickets.  According to my calculations, I should have been able to hand the lifeless waif of an attendant $50 for the darn pocket monster and endured much less pain.  After spending the first half of his $10 game money, Sawyer chose to spend his remaining $5, on one play of Plinko (sans Drew Carey).  He did not win a Minecraft cow or pig as he had hoped.  Instead he won a $2 game ticket for another game.  The coupon was not eligible for arcade games, such as skee ball.  I was a bit concerned he might crumble up the ticket and insert it into the employees nose.  Thankfully, that was not the case.

We met up with the kids and other parents here and there. Each trek more difficult than the last.  Sawyer had a headache, his legs hurt, he wasn't having fun and did I tell you his head hurt?  I left him with my friend and went to a First Aid station and got some chewable Tylenol.  Still on the far side of the park, I asked if there was a stroller rental on this side of the park.  They told me yes, by The Claw.  I had just told my friend that I noticed a wheelchair rental place over there, but I didn't think they had strollers.  The pimple faced EMT assured me they had strollers too.  After a 10 minute walk to the wheelchair rental place, I was told very emphatically that they did not have strollers.  Because I was annoyed at the misinformation, I stopped at guest services and nicely explained what happened.  The woman apologized.  I threw out the autism card and the fact that I had been carrying Sawyer for about an hour hoping she'd have pity on me and have someone bring one that far.  No dice.

Back to my friends who were graciously dealing with Sawyer.  He looked rough.  The pink chewable Tylenol was refused as Sawyer only likes the purple.  There was little to no chance of getting him to take it.  I told him I would get a drink and some fries if he would take the remaining tablets smooshed between the fries and washed down with lemonade.  We left the kids and parents to go on a few more rides as we went searching for food.  The first place only had waffle fries which were unacceptable.  The second place had traditionally shaped French fries sprinkled with crab seasoning.  We were assured (I was getting doubtful with the whole assurance thing) that the fries could be made without the seasoning.  Including random family members who were not purchasing food, there were about 12 people ahead of us.  Behind us was a group of five teenage boys who knew one of the fry boys inside the shack.  Fry boy was either hard of hearing or worried about losing his job, because the yelling at the Plexiglas got louder with each non-acknowledgement of the group.  It became more and more apparent that Sawyer really did not feel well as he didn't complain about the loud voices and crowded line though his body was tensing to the point of shaking.  He lifted his head off my shoulder only long enough to say, "throw up." I quickly excused myself past the family behind us, past TJ's five closest long lost friends, and brought him to a bench.  He stretched out on the bench with his head on my lap. Moving once to instruct me to remove the keys from my pocket, he was completely lethargic.  My friend found us and offered to get a drink.  At this point, I was dehydrated from carrying a 44 lb sack of bones around the park.  She returned and I took the first sip, to make sure it wasn't poison of course, then gave some to Sawyer. When he barely took any, I started planning a trip to the closest First Aid station.

I carried him about 10 minutes to the building which had held the Guest Services office from before.  I asked the more stereotypical EMT if it would be possible to get a ride to the front of the park as my son felt sick and I couldn't carry him that far.  He brought me back to my friend at Guest Services and after she ended her phone call to check on a friends opening night (a play perhaps?), requested transport.  I thought she remembered me, but I never was too sure.  She called immediately and told me to bring Sawyer into the waiting area so he could lay down.  All was quiet for a few minutes.  Then there was the slightest noise. Barely a cough, nearly a gurgle, from Sawyer.  A mothers intuition kicked in.  I lifted his head and asked my new BFF Mary Carol or Mary Catherine or whatever her name was, "Do you have a buck...." And Mt. Saucious blew!  All over the couch, all over the floor, all over everything.  By the time the garbage can made it into the room, the eruption had finished.  Oh, wait an afterblow.  And he's d....definitely not done.  Now.  Yes. Now he is done.  Poor baby.  Poor nasal passages o' mine!  MC couldn't have been nicer, though I did hear her call to see how far the golf cart was.  She brought in paper towels and accepted all my apologies sweetly while telling me that she hates throwing up so she can imagine how awful Sawyer must be feeling.  It was calming.

Enter Mr. Hershey Park!  Golf cart driver, customer service rep, Chatty Cathy reincarnated as a 20 year old male, Matt. He was happy to take us through the back of the rides all the way to the car.  He hit every pothole on the way, but God love him, he made the ride interesting.  He told me how it was okay for him to go against the arrows on the road, how he hopes our experience at Hershey was great, despite, you know, the vomiting.  He was glad to hear we lived in the area so we could be his guests once again.  As we neared the van, he asked Sawyer if he had fun. "No!" He apologized and said, "Well, did you at least have fun before you got sick?"  " NO!"  It was weak, but emphatic.  Matt's enthusiasm and cheerfulness could not be squelched.

"Next time you come it'll be great I'm sure.  We'd love to have you be our guest again!"

Okay, Mrs. Potts.  See you next time!


End Note: As I was pulling out of the parking lot, Josie called asking where I was.  I told her she was going home with our friends because Sawyer threw up and I had to leave.  "Oh, Lyra just threw up too.  Do you want to take her home too?"  I asked if she wanted to go home.  "Nah.  She said she's heading to another roller coaster."