Play, porn and puke

Today we did the divide and conquer technique: the boys on one outing, the girls on another. I had planned on something in the sun, but when it rained all morning, I arrived home after my workout to my daughter’s gleeful, “Mommy – it’s raining! We get to go to PlayDate PDX.” A little backstory, PlayDate PDX is a local play gym. Granted it’s a nice play gym, as play gyms go, but it’s still a play gym, complete with loud kids and lots of germs. Its saving grace is its espresso bar, beer/wine, and garage-door-style windows (open when it’s warm). For a few weeks, Hannah’s been asking to go, and I’ve been buying time with, “Next time it’s raining and we don’t have any other plans.” Apparently, today was that day.

I channeled my Bar Method Zen, packed a book, and prepared Hannah with cheese stick and water. Protein and hydration complete, we hit the road. Admittedly, I even found myself looking forward to it, just a little. A few hours of playtime for Hannah and reading for me - that can’t be all bad.

PlayDate PDX; Portland, Oregon

Initial signals were all go. There was parking in the lot, and, being summer (and by now sun peeking out), it wasn’t as crazy as usual. Windows were open, food line was short. We ordered latte, milk and giant, orange-dyed, flower-shaped cookie. I sat, she played. In between play laps, she’d check-in for milk and a few more bites of cookie. Periodically, I'd look up and find her smiling ear-to-ear as she waved from the dragon’s mouth, before returning to spin on the light-up disco dance floor. Upon her last bite of cookie, she said, “I love you Mama.” Now $30 in, I thought, “this is money well spent” and “why didn’t I think of this cash cow?”

An aside, I’ve been trying to read Fifty Shades of Grey for weeks. I initially resisted the “soft core for housewives” concept, but growing tired of all the talk and no first hand experience to chime in, I caved (for research purposes, of course). Now, 268 pages in, I have a love-hate relationship with the book (for another post perhaps). Yes, it’s a turn-on, but it comes with mixed emotions for sure, especially today. Reading sex scenes in a play gym - really? A little disgusted with myself, I take a moment to ponder, “is this legal?” Second thoughts aside, I discretely conceal the cover and continue reading as the drama (nice euphemism, huh?) between Christian and Anastasia unfolds. Can you believe the names? Total smut!

At the close of Chapter 15, Hannah returns. I expect her to plop down next to me and start munching on the cheesy pizza that's just arrived, but instead she smiles and says, “Mama, I just threw up.”

Ugh… reading interrupted; back to mommy mode. I was hoping this was Hannah’s latest attempt at teasing, a new concept she’s playing with in which she says she’s done something destructive or messy and then laughs, “just teasing!” I asked with a bit of a plea, “Really? You threw up?” All smiles and full of pep, she responds, still dancing, “Yep! Sorry Mama.” In that moment of pause, like when gas sneaks its way out in public (you know it’s happened to you), I thought, “Did anyone hear that? Can we tiptoe out without saying anything? Or, better yet, since she isn't really sick, and this is clearly the unfortunate blend of spinning and sugar cookies, we could just pretend it didn’t happen. Maybe it was more of a throw-up burp and it didn’t project beyond her mouth. After all, it’s been less than an hour, I already spent all this money, and the pizza just arrived!” … Amazing how quick the brain rationalizes bad behavior, huh?

Reluctantly, I did the right thing. DAMN IT! We waited at the check-in desk until the attendant in the bright orange PlayDate PDX shirt asked, “Can I help you?” Aware I was about to ruin her shift, I whispered the play gym worker's dreaded four words: “my daughter threw up.” It was at that moment that I realized why PlayDate PDX is worth every bit of its $10 cover. God bless her! Without hesitation or a hint of disgust or annoyance, the girl in orange flew into action: disinfectant in hand, she calmly asked Hannah to show her where it happened. Relieved I wasn’t wearing the requisite socks for admittance, I watched, with my best concerned and apologetic face, as the two disappeared into the castle of fun. A minute later, I saw the orange shirt up above, attached to an arm radioing for backup. Meanwhile, Hannah’s red and purple socks slowly tiptoed their way back into my view. Damage done, we grabbed her shoes.

Remarkably, Hannah didn’t resist (too much) as I informed her we couldn’t stay and play since she got sick. Upon walking out, she responded that she’d learned “not to eat cookies and spin.” Good lesson. What did mommy learn? No more porn in play gyms.

Quality couch time with Hannah and Mama

With mommy a little nervous about more potentially vomit inducing activity, we spent the rest of our afternoon snuggling on the couch for our fifth recent viewing of Spy Kids. Not my first choice media, but enjoyable still.