Taking it to The Street

When I told a colleague with one child that my family was going to Sesame Place for the day, she was excited for us. As we continued talking about the amusement park trip, eventually there was a pause in the conversation and I heard what I usually hear from people with one or two children when I discuss doing something with my kids: "I can't imagine having three."

How did we get here? I-95 North past Philadelphia.

It's always said with awe and a hint of sympathy. "I hope you have a great time," they seem to be saying, "and, if you lose a child somewhere in the park, I would totally understand and not judge you."

(Conversely, when someone with one child tells me they are going somewhere as a family, I'll say "Have a great time" but I'm 100% jealous inside that they are not making three different sets of snacks for their outing.) 

We've had three kids for almost two years now and traveled as far as the Outer Banks and as close as the playground at our daughter's elementary school. Each trip requires its own calculations: How long are we going to be in the car? How much food do we need to pack? What gear (hats, sunscreen, sunglasses, jackets, etc.) do we need to have? What, if anything, will the kids do in the car? Do we need a stroller? Did we, in fact, bring all three children?

Sesame Place presented its own challenges. It's two-and-a-half hours from our house and we were doing the park in one day, so it would be a lot of car time. Because this was a one-day trip, we had to make sure we hit all the rides and attractions. And, unlike destinations from other long car trips, there were no grandparents on the other side ready to help. That we were going in the midst of heatwave was not helping our cause.

But our visit to Sesame Place was long overdue. Every toddler hits that sweet spot where their whole world is Sesame Street, where hearing that theme song elicits a Pavlovian response allowing a parent to get them dressed, brush their teeth or simply sit quietly for 25 minutes. We took our oldest to Sesame Place when she was around 2 years old but our plan to go with our son when he was 2 was scuttled by the early days of the pandemic. 

Now, our youngest is almost 2 and watching episodes I first saw seven years ago (Elmo and Abby are still busting boo-boos). We are on the verge of moving past Sesame Street in our house, a sure sign that our kids are growing up way too fast; that my youngest was wearing the same Elmo shirt my oldest wore for her trip confirmed this. Belle and I knew it was going to be a long day but we also knew the memories would be worth it.

At least that's what I told myself as we were hit by 90-plus-degree heat exiting our car and slathered on sunscreen after an early-morning car ride where no one slept. We took the obligatory picture by the Elmo and Big Bird topiaries near the entrance to the park and went directly to the carousel, a strategy copied by seemingly everyone else there. Our youngest was a little confused as to why she was sitting atop an inanimate horse but the second the ride started moving the look on her face was one of surprise and delight, as if she was saying, "Can you believe THIS!?!?"

We thought this would be a good sign for the rest of the rides. Unfortunately, what rides we could go on was limited because either there was a maximum of four people per ride or our oldest kids were too short to go on their own, meaning Belle or I had to go on a ride with one child while the other parent kept an eye on the other children. We spent the whole morning playing three-kid Monte but hit all of the rides the kids wanted to do. My favorite was Navigating a Double-Wide Stroller Through a Sea of Other Strollers. That said, I appreciated the Stroller Code followed at Sesame Place: Park yours out of the way and no one will touch it. It was the peace of mind I needed so I could focus on not throwing up while on the teacups.

For those who have never been, Sesame Place is essentially divided into two parts: expensive and very expensive. I knew going in we were going to spend money on lunch and souvenirs. What I did not expect was to spend $35 on a locker to store our valuables that we used for roughly 15 minutes, enough time to attempt to ford the Lazy River but quickly retreat when two kids were crying and one was nearly swept slowly away. It made the $10 that we spent on some kind of Cookie Monster-inspired, blue-colored ice cream worth it to calm everyone down. (After having a taste, I can say with confidence there was a reason why the ice cream stand ran out of vanilla and chocolate and only had the Cookie Monster-inspired, blue-colored ice cream left when it was our turn to order.)

By mid-afternoon, our traveling party included some tired and cranky people. Kids, too. Throughout the park, it seemed many families were on the edge of a breakdown. There were crying kids and parents with blank expressions as they pushed strollers to the next attraction. Our goal all along was to make it to the big mid-afternoon parade down Main Street, so we got a seat early on the sidewalk. My youngest had been scared seeing the characters in person, preferring Belle or I hold her so she could observe Elmo and Abby from a distance. But once those floats started moving by us, stood and waved at every last character. She was overwhelmed with happiness and gleefully ran down Main Street after the parade ended. 

That moment made my day. But so did being able to spend quality time with the family, doing something out of the ordinary and not letting the occasional breakdown get in the way of having fun. Even the older kids got a kick out of going on the rides and taking photos with Big Bird, Snuffy and Elmo. They saw stars! 

Wait, sorry, that was me after I stubbed my toe on a curb so hard that it turned a shade of purple darker than The Count blushing. It was not quite the souvenir I imagined driving home with but at least the kids fell asleep as the sun set. All three of them.