Sahara Cares. Seriously.

I’ve given up trying to keep our Saturday day trip posts in chronologically order since I am so, so behind.  Oh well.  Let the out-of-orderness begin … :)

Can I just tell you how excited I have been for this day?

This is our fourth year at the SaharaCares Autism Carnival and this thing rocks.  Seriously.  It is completely free for children on the autism spectrum and their families.  And it’s amazing, especially since the economy has been so hard on construction companies like Sahara, yet they continue to put this event on every year.

And so I was less than thrilled when TDHD drug their feet getting ready and doing morning jobs and helping around the house.  By the time we finally made it out the door, I realized that we’d only make it for the last hour and a half. 

So, so lame.

On the way there I spent some quality time with a needle and thread to make sure my cheap-o camera strap didn’t come undone again and hopefully avoid another incident of the camera doing a hop, skip and a jump across the concrete.

As the kids piled out, there were the usual checks:

Stroller?  Check.  Water bottles?  Check.  Search & Rescue photos?  Check, check.

And since we missed it last year, TDHD started their Saturday adventure on the cut-open-barrel-train-thingy ride.  I have no idea what you actually call this thing.

Coincidently, the train just happened to be next the field of bouncy toys …

… and the 4o ft. rock wall.   I believe at this point Cameron started squealing.

Cam and Hubs headed for the wall while I dragged the remaining five over to bouncy house heaven.

I know, I know.

One mom to watch five bodies running around acres of inflatables is dumb, but there wasn’t another option.  So I spun around a gazillion times counting heads … and obsessively checked the camera to make sure I did, in fact, have current search and rescue pictures of all the kids… and wrangled all of their shoes into a pile for easy access later … and silently thanked Savannah for dressing like a Fruit Loop so that I could find her easier.

And while the kids made hundreds and hundreds of passes down the slide, Cam and Hubs stood in the really long line … and waited … and watched … and scootched up a step … and waited some more …

… and in the mean time the other kids moved on to the next totally awesome military-low-crawl-maize-up-and-over-slide-bouncy-thingy.

And once again they showed their mad skills, like Savannah demonstrating her Stop, Drop and Roll inspired pass.

And right about the time they flopped off the toys all sweaty and thirsty and hot, Cam got his chance to summit the wall.

And man was he amazing, powering to the top and whapping the siren at the top in triumph.  Awesome.

With only forty-five minutes left, I figured we probably ought to redeem our lovely happy face wrist bands for lunch.

After we managed to get shoes back on everyone, we headed back towards the main gate, only to collide with a large foam fish.  Even though it looked like Nemo,  Dylan and Savannah expertly distracted him until Cameron could confirm his identity using a Braille-based eye scan.

Yup, it’s Nemo, guys.  Carry on.

From there it was just a few more steps to the Activity barn where we assumed the food would be again this year.  Thankfully there was a strategically placed, bright red banner that cleared up any doubts:

And with the crowds winding down, we managed to grab an empty table and enough chairs to settle everyone down long enough to make a gigantic mess out of hotdogs, chips, water and snacks.  And so I wondered, again, who I should send the apology email to:

Dear Sir or Madam at the Sahara Cares Foundation,

I  apologize for my children’s general presence anywhere near your lovely carnival at Wheeler Farm.  I deeply regret any inconvenience this may have caused ….

As I pondered on that thought and tried to find a pen to write down the names of the carnival sponsors from the back of Dylan’s t-shirt, TDHD worked their way through firsts … and seconds … and thirds of orange, banana and chocolate Creamies.

By this time it was almost two o’clock and I didn’t have much hope of hitting the carnival games at all, but I figured we’d give it a try … and maybe, just maybe, hit one or two before they closed down.

Unfortunately, we hit a bit of a snag leaving the lunch area after TDHD were detained by Imperial forces.

Luckily, a very serious method actor used an old Jedi mind trick on the bad guys to help us escape over to the carnival games area.

Thank you Master Jedi.

Thankfully, Carnival Land was still going strong, as if no one was ready to leave.  And bless the awesome volunteers from SaharaCares, but all of them stuck around and welcomed TDHD and the hundreds of other people there to keep playing.

Watching my crew over the next hour that the carnival stayed open, I found myself learning new things about them and about life in general.  Interesting little tid bits of information such as:

1)  TDHD were born gunners.

Wait.  That doesn’t sound right.  TDHD were born to play with squirt guns.  Better.  We spent several minutes at our first station as the kids laughed and giggled and soaked the begeebers out of a cut up milk jug. 

And while they were showing off their mad water target skills, I couldn’t get enough of Seanry’s calls every few seconds to Watch Difs Mamma!  Kills me every time.

2)  There are career options for Happy Meal Toys after their stint next to the McNuggets and fries.

Check out this homemade Plinko  machine.  Awesome.

The kids had so much for with this thing that I’m half tempted to make one of our own.  I mean really, does D.I. need more happy meal toys?

3) Inflatable body-bopper-donut-things rock.

   

Pure genius.

The kids were in heaven and I’ve nearly ordered a set of these exact babies from Oriental Trading twice now.  Because there are some days—oh are there days--when I wonder what it would be like to settle a toy dispute with Body Boppers on the front lawn:

Alright kids.  Grab your Body Boppers and let’s settle this outside.  Winner gets the toy.  Looser gets a band-aid.  Come get me when you’re done or the boppers pop.

And I know I already posted this on our Thursday pictures post, but Savannah getting creamed Wicked Witch of the West style was about the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.

Or watching this kid laugh and giggle and race around and finally flop down in a tired heap of happy was pretty amazing, too.

4) Never underestimate the power of rubber ducks to thrill.

We were at this station for a solid ten minutes and the game took approximately 15 seconds to play,  so you do the math.  We had to pull the kids away as they whined and cried about leaving their friends the ducks.  For a prize, they each got a one inch rubber guppy.  To this day, the lone remaining guppy is the source of most contention in our house.  Which brings me to …

5)  Cheap carnival prizes are the greatest thing.  Ever.

Savannah still wears this ring ever day and guards is with her life.  And you already know about the guppy.  Moving on to number six:

6) Never give toddlers weapons.

This station wasn’t pretty and we almost didn’t make it out of there everyone’s teeth and kneecaps.  I’ll leave it at that.  And lastly …

7) I seem to get the best pictures of my kids when they get to play like kids.

Exhibit A: New Favorite Picture of Cameron

Okay … I’ll admit it.  When this picture first came off the camera it looked like crap.  It was all blown out and over exposed.  But I loved seeing how he looks when he’s having fun.  After a little tweaking in Picasa, I love this picture even more than some of the posed and better lit pictures I’ve taken lately.  In the posed pictures, I get my kids smiling for a second and saying cheese.  And those can be great.  But when they play, I seem to capture more of their souls.  And this shot … this is so Cam.

So there you go.  New stuff learned every day.

By this time it was pushing three o’clock so we decided it was time to head out.  Hubs was a good sport and took the kids over to the Snowie shack for shaved ice while I tried to be all cool-like and get some pictures of the sunflowers. 

Gah.  I turns out I still have know idea how to shoot in manual mode and, apparently,  it was lunch time for a swarm of bees.  So I switched back to training wheel mode, shot a few to justify to Hubs why I bailed on him in the slushy line and wrapped it up.

As the kids headed for the truck with their sticky, melty, heavily dyed treats, we made one last detour to see some miniature horses being loaded back into their trailers. 

Dylan asked one of the handlers if he could have a ride.  “Dude, Dyl," I told him, “you’re twice as big as those horses.  Maybe you should give them a ride.”  “Okay!” he said excitedly and set his slushy down.  And I had to laugh, because being a smart allec isn’t nearly as funny when you have to stop and explain to your kid that you were just kidding and they look at you like you’re an idiot.

When we reached the car, I was superdy-helpful once again, taking a final gazillion pictures while Hubs wrangled the stroller and the kids and the snow cones.

And as I looked back for those last few pics … swear … just a few more … really, last one …

I saw this … and choked hard.

This probably means nothing to nobody else but me.  But our outing to the carnival this day was Saturday, September 11th.  And Dylan was the only kid who was born before the attack.  In fact all of my memories of that day revolve around him.

Five months before, I became a mother.

The morning of the attack, I was in our little duplex in Nampa, Idaho getting ready for my visiting teachers to come over.  Dylan was nestled in his towel, fresh out of the tub and sitting contently in his bouncer on the bathroom floor while I did my hair.

I remember …

… my mom calling and telling me to turn on the TV …

… hearing Dylan crying and going back to pick him up, and walking back into the living room just as the North Tower came down …

…holding him as I sobbed and being keenly aware that the world had changed forever …

… looking at his tiny little face and being filled with fear as I wondering What kind of a world will you grow up in?

Nine years later, I still remember the terror of that day.  And in the years since I have seen more evil and suffering that seems to grow exponentially.  But standing there in the parking lot at Wheeler Farm watching my family load up in the truck as the carnival workers broke everything down, I think I can answer my own question.

And so if you’ll indulge me a bit here,

To my amazing Dylan (and now also to) Cam, Savannah, Kaden, Sean and Ash,

I know what kind of a world you’ll grow up in.

You will see good and evil at their finest hours.  You will see more hatred, more atrocities and more cruelty than this world has ever known.  And some of that evil will hurt our family.  That’s part of this whole experience in mortality and is part of this gift of agency.

But you will also see how the strength of the human spirit will always push back and prevail against darkness.  I saw that on 9/11 when firefighters and police rushed into burning towers and people lined up outside of blood banks to help the wounded.  I’ve seen it every time there is a natural disaster and people from around the country and the world send food and money and blankets to total strangers to relieve their suffering.

And guys, I saw it in the parking lot at Wheeler Farm as dozens of companies and hundreds of volunteers packed up a carnival they so generously spent a year planning … and tens of thousands of dollars financing … and dozens of hours setting up for and cleaning up from … all so that families like ours could have an afternoon together to laugh and play and be safe and enjoy this version of life that autism brings.

With all of the darkness out there guys, always remember that there is even more goodness in this world.

Love you guys … and your plastic guppy.

~ Love, Mom

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And to all of the carnival sponsors, especially everyone at the SaharaCares Foundation, this means more than you’ll ever know.  You guys rock.  See you all next year.