I hope this photo becomes a family tradition. I love this hokey, pokey little amusement park.
As a family, we have the unique ability to make a 5-hour roadtrip last at least 7 hours. As a toddler, Gigi has the unique ability to assess whether a road potty has an auto-flusher before the swagger wagon has made the exit. A prepared mommy (as I am) travels with a portable outhouse, or as it's known in our household, the frog potty. Portable. Green. Adorable and functional. Seven hours later, we arrived at our humble yet clean accommodation: the Branson Garden Inn. Conveniently located just 47 minutes away from the Branson Landing in summer traffic on Highway 76, the Inn boasts soap, towels, and a room air conditioner that could freeze the ice pops in the cooler if the room refrigerator didn't. Luxurious, the room was not; functional indeed.
We spent two full days at Silver Dollar City.
And we noticed a disturbing trend with Gigi--it seems every time she's being particularly adorable, there's a pole. It makes a mother nervous. That combined with her religious views makes me downright anxious. "I don't want Jesus to hold me. Only mommy can hold me. But I played with Jesus. He put a Bandaid on me."
RJ's faith is a little stronger these days: "Only Jesus can cut steel. Or big cutters. Really big strong cutters." His faith in his Daddy was strong enough to brave his first roller coaster, and my little daredevil loved it.
Gigi discovered the foam blaster along with her brother. Really, who would think that a giant vacuum system with foam balls would be so entertaining. We spent an hour in there!
My little scientist experimented with putting her pigtail in the fountain at the spray park.
The conclusion? Fun!
I promise, she was really excited to ride the pink pony (and yes, she is clinging to yet another pole-anxious, I tell you). Many tears were shed as we waved farewell and promised to come again. Of course, Silver Dollar City is also home to a real pony or two, and some goats. One of the things I love the most about this hokey little amusement park is the attitude that most of the retiree park hosts have toward kids and their job. The goat herder (for lack of better description) provided us with one of our biggest vacation smiles when he plucked Marshmallow the goat from her perch, set her on the ground, and softened his reprimand, "Oh Marshmallow, you know I still love you." Many parents (myself included) could learn a lot from the goat herder's gentle reprimand.
Why yes, he did get a killer haircut before the trip.
Ah, the red, white, and blue. I love the Fourth of July.
Gigi loved the little playhouse at the park. I promise she did have on a matchy-matchy cute girlie outfit--just before she piddled on her pants. We were 2 blocks or 45 minutes from our motel on Highway 76, so her striped bloomers saved the day in a pinch. We're OSU girls anyway--orange pants are awesome.
We rode the rapids!
Toddler troubles: when you're too short to see over the rails.
Only Silver Dollar City would set up board games and blocks for an afternoon of fun. We could do the same on our patio--but with the patio comes the house--and with the house come the laundry, the dishes, and the vacuum cleaner (and it doesn't have fun foam balls to blast around, though perhaps I should look into something like that.)
He'll tell you he's too big for mommy snuggles. He'd be fibbing.
He'd also tell you he's too big for the merry-go-round.
He gave the dunk tank his best shot.
We hung out. Sang some songs. Listened to some country music and played some basketball. As always, the swagger wagon was practical and accommodating, particular for a little princess who was casting her spell and sending up pink and purple fireworks just for us. She knew the trip was special: "Are we going on coronation?!" (We live in a Disney World when American little girls know more about coronations than vacations.)
Best seat in the parking lot. He's learning the rules of parking lots these days. Upon seeing a car with a sticker parking in the handicap space, he shouted, "Look!" I braced myself. "They have the password for that parking spot!"
We played some mini-golf.
Drove some go-karts.
And ate a lot of Cheetos. My children are like starving badgers when it comes to Cheetos. I had to beat them off the floor scraps and remind myself that the Lord gave them good immune systems as I discovered Gigi munching Cheetos that could have come only from the trash can (a motel trashcan--gah!)
I just love the Fourth of July, family vacations, and fireworks.
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