Monday, May 18, 2009

Dozer Day = Disneyland on Steroids

I've been DYING to go to Disneyland for years now. But after this weekend's "Dozer Day" in Washington, I'm not so sure anymore.

Carson loves diggers, dozers, and dirt so what better way to spend a Saturday in the sun that playing with the real thing! I pre-purchased tickets and we drove 45 minutes across the river. We got lucky and Carson fell asleep on the way there so we figured he'd wake up rested and ready to go. Hindsight is 20-20.

First problem, the ridiculously long line of cars strung out along the exit. 15 minutes later at a snail's pace, we finally got off the freeway.

Only to enter mass chaos of cars parked every which way in cavernous holes in a rock quarry. No flaggers telling us where to go. Streams of strollers flooding the streets. Like lemmings we followed the quickest moving line of cars to the right. Not knowing that we would end up a half mile from the event.

Then our hell child woke up. His eyes were slits of blood red as he screamed bloody murder at me for taking off his snow boots (one downside of an independent nearly 3 year old dressing himself). But it was easily over 80 degrees. Mommy-1 Carson-0

We dragged him, kicking and screaming a HALF A MILE to the event. The sympathetic glances from the other parents did not comfort us. Embarrassed, annoyed, frustrated, and all the while thinking, damn the pre-purchased tickets or we would have just turned around and headed home.

Then, thank God for Will Call tickets because we were able to avoid the mile long line to purchase "day of" tickets.

I think I forgot to mention that during this painful walk our blood sugar levels were at dangerously low levels due to a past due lunch time. My bladder was threatening to surrender at any minute with the weight of a baby making nothing easier. Combine starving parents and child with a preggo who had to pee with long lines and it is a recipe for a trial separation or adoption, whichever the court agreed to first.

We gawked at the line of people waiting to ride in the bed of the monster sized dumptrucks. Skip that! Then I beelined it for the nearest blue HoneyPots or poop saunas on our unusually hot day. More lines. I considered throwing the "preggo can't wait" golden ticket out there but figured I shouldn't abuse the karma.

Everywhere we looked were lines! It was insane! I've never seen so many parents and kids in one place. Then we saw it. A line up of at least 12 actual diggers and dozers in action! It was an impressive sight, like prehistoric dinosaurs all in a slow motion feeding frenzy. Then we saw more lines. About 10-15 deep, all waiting in line in front of each giant yellow machine.

Our brains couldn't push thru the chaos and dirt. But then Jeremy saved the day. LOOK, he said, BURGERVILLE!!!!!! You've never seen three people scurry through rocks and toddlers faster than us racing to the Tillamook cheeseburger paradise! As we skidded around the corner of the beautiful blue tent, we saw the line. Yes, another freaking line.

It was time to divide and conquer or all would be lost due to a starvation induced meltdown (for all three of us). Jer and Carson to pizza line. Me standing guard at Burgerville.

We waited. And waited. And waited.

Just when I thought I couldn't handle any more, I heard, "157"- The most beautiful sound I've ever heard. I charged like a blind rhino to my juicy, cheezy goodness.

Somehow found the boys and we began eating like rabid dogs. No talking, just chewing and swallowing. Not three bites into my yummy burger, Carson looks up and says, "Mommy, me have to poop."

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME???

Oh yes, I had to put down my burger, find a Honeypot, and try to balance my young son over the gaping hole of a filth and disgust.

But it wasn't enough to ruin my appetite.

Once we were all satisfied, we were able to being enjoying Dozer Day, along with 8 million other families.

We waited in line for Carson to dig in dirt and find buried treasure.

Another line to sit in a skid steer.

Another line to ride in an ambulance.

A dumptruck.

And a digger.

But here's the kicker. All the lines for to actually sit on the lap of a driver for the 20+ diggers & dozers around the perimeter, were only for kids aged 4-12. Apparently this is the first year for the age minimum.

On one hand, we were very disappointed for Carson. On the other hand, he's young enough that he didn't realize it. AND we didn't have to wait in yet another line. Maybe next year.

So for all who are considering the wild craziness of Digger Day next year. Either get VIP passes to get in before the gates open. Or wait until the last two hours of the event when the crowds have died down.












And a wondefully messy ice cream cone to finish off the day!

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