“So when are we going to go to the corn maze?” Link asked. It was a long familiar question as it had been asked periodically and with increasing frequency since the beginning of September. Today I finally had an answer the kids liked.
“Today. As soon as chores are done.” Chores got done quickly.

The local Cornbelly Maze is a field of corn planted in a maze pattern. Visitors are invited to get lost amongst the stalks. These days there is far more going on than just the maze. A whole fair of games and activities are set up around the entrance and after dark be-costumed spooks haunt the maze and some of the other attractions. We did not go during haunted hours. They are more expensive and some of our kids are too young to appreciate a good scare.

There is always a moment at the beginning of a family outing when I wonder if it was a good idea. We’d just arrived, passing the solid block of construction traffic on the other side of the freeway, giving us a clear picture of how fun the return trip would not be. Gleek wanted to wait in line for jumping pillows. Kiki and Link wanted to be turned loose. I realized that I’d forgotten to bring the third cell phone so I was uncomfortable letting them loose in this unfamiliar place. It all felt chaotic and crowded. Within an hour we had all settled in, and fun was had.

Most of the time Howard does not come along on these activity jaunts to public places. Crowds and chaos wear on him. However, on the day I asked who would be interested in going to the corn maze this year, his half-sheepish hand joined the others in the air. Having two adults meant we could split into two groups. This proved to be a good thing. We regrouped and split up several times during the course of our stay. The process was greatly simplified by cellphones. I love cellphones for the simple reduction of stress in crowded places. At one point Patch was not where we expected him to be. Howard was able to call me the moment he was found.

Many of the games were sponsored. Gleek’s favorite was the river chute where kids could pan for gemstones like miners searching for gold. A booth nearby sold little bags of gem-filled mud, but Gleek discovered that small shards of gems were present in the small gravel at the bottom of the water chute. Hers was a true treasure hunt, finding chips of blue, green, and yellow in the dross that others threw away. She carefully put them in her pocket to bring home.

Gleek also collected cobs of dried corn from the stalks as we wandered through the maze. She had an armful before we were done. At first she offered them to all the people we passed. She wanted to share her treasure, but either these folk already had their own corn or they weren’t interested in carrying corn. Failing to give the corn away, Gleek tried using cobs of corn to mark our winding path through the maze. Link was our guide, since he’d gone through the maze previously. We wended our way through some loops and found Gleek’s corn marker again, at which point Gleek lost faith in her brother’s directional sense and began to feel truly lost. She began picking off kernels of corn as we walked leaving a little trail. This tactic would have been more effective if all the paths were not already littered with corn kernels. We found our way out, but Gleek enjoyed picking off the kernels so much that she did not stop until she had a bare cob.

A couple of our neighbors were also there. This added an extra layer of fun for my two youngest kids because they had familiar friends with which to play. It was fun for me too. I got brief moments of visiting and we were able to re-group kids according to interest. Co-operative parenting makes many things easier. It fell to my lot to accompany Gleek, Patch, and Bestfriend through an inflatable monster. It was a winding path, designed to be dark and ominous. Bestfriend and Patch were both interested and intrigued by the thumping heartbeat and the staccato drums. Gleek did not like it at all. I put a hand on her back and guided us through by the light of my cell phone.

The evening ended with everyone selecting a last thing. Patch and Link went off to jump. Gleek found the princess playground where she danced on a stage, climbed atop a sparkling horse, and wore a princess dress. Kiki elected to sit on a bench with me and finish off the last of the french fries. We agreed that we were both quite hungry and more fried sounded very appealing. Unfortunately the food prices were what one might expect at a fair and so we remained wistful. However Kiki and I were able to entertain ourselves by watching the guy across from us who was a dead ringer for Waldo from the Where’s Waldo books. All he needed was a striped shirt and a backpack.

I expected crankiness and squabbling from kids on the way home, but there was none. They all sat quietly, watching out the windows as we wended our way home on back roads. It took us almost an hour to arrive home, but it was much prettier than being parked in the mess on the freeway. Everyone agreed that the outing was a complete success. We capped it with an episode of Mythbusters and all the kids went to bed happy.

Our part-time cat has become a full-time cat. Gradually she was spending increasing amounts of time at our house instead of being at her official home. I think the other cats at that house were chasing her away from the food. The neighbors to whom she belonged are also good friends and have given us permission to begin feeding the cat. They do this with full knowledge that she’ll transfer her permanent home here. Having her around has been so good for both of my girls. Petting the cat is one of the first things Gleek does every morning and is always her first stop upon returning from school. Ditto Kiki. They spend hours outside petting her and playing with her. The concentrated cat-cuddle time has been so good for them. They are really good about using a lint roller on their clothes the moment they walk into the house and my allergies have been alright thus far. She really is the perfect cat for us. She is social and vocal (no chance Gleek will forget to feed her). She’s also self-sufficient and content to curl up in the garage at night.

I must confess that I watch the cat cuddling with longing. My allergies developed in my teens and I really miss the feel of a purring cat. I do pet her sometimes, but only with one hand and I have to immediately come inside and wash lest there be hives and wheezing. I think how nice it would be for my girls to sleep with a cat, but that is simply not to be. I will just be content that the perfect cat came to us again, even after we had to give her back. It was a long strange road, and there is every possibility that she will change her mind again, but for now she is ours.

I have a blogger’s dilemma. Yesterday I attended an anime convention with Kiki, Link, and assorted teenage friends. Conventions are always filled with tightly-packed events, a hundred small stories to tell. I want to record these stories, to tell the delightful details which demonstrate exactly how much fun my kids had at the event. The point of such an entry would be to hold the memories in words so that the event could be savored again. My problem is that their delights were not mine. Their best moments happened when I was not present. They came to me when they had problems, were bored, were worn out, or were hungry. My day consisted mostly of sitting in hallways, people watching, solving problems before they were problems, and being available. I want to tell a joyful story, but my day was interesting and full of useful service, not really full of joy.

The real problem with the convention was that I paid all the costs both in time and money, while the enjoyment was primarily theirs. This is one of the things that I do as a parent, almost without thinking about it. Most of the time their joy brings me joy. This time I’m having trouble with cost counting. All the things which got delayed so I could manage the convention for my kids are still waiting for me with increased urgency attached. I guess I have to consider it a learning experience. Next year I will not be involved in marathon last-minute sewing sessions. If kids want impressive costumes they’ll need to spend their own time, creativity, energy, and money. Next year they’ll need to pay some or all of the entrance fees themselves. These changes are not just for my benefit, but because I realized that by removing the effort from their event, I actually deprive them of important learning. They can not appreciate a hard-won prize if they never have to work. Compliments on a costume you made yourself carry much more joy than if your mother made the costume. This I think is the real source of my dissatisfaction. They had an event full of shiny excitement, but devoid of learning. It was all treats and nothing sustaining.

Fortunately for me I have wonderful and intelligent children. Both Kiki and Link thanked me multiple times for the help and support I gave. Their gratitude lasted into today when they both actively helped clean up the house. I think that they did learn things despite my efforts to remove effort from their day. In the end it was a good event for us all and while I intend to manage things a little differently next year, I still intend to support them in going.