Howlin'

Last weekend we made the trek to The Great Wolf Lodge. It's a large hotel, about two hours south of Seattle. They have a large, indoor water park in the lobby-a huge draw for the gray days of February in the Northwest.

Friends of ours who have already been twice gave us the lowdown: Check in is at 4 p.m., but you can come earlier in the day to get access the water park. Pack a snack or lunch, since there aren't many economical places to eat, most rooms have a fridge to keep food overnight. There are lockers with showers so you can even swim after you check out. Maybe we could get through the weekend with minimal damage to our wallets and maximum enjoyment after all.

We arrived to find the huge hotel packed. The line to check-in went down the entire desk, then back again. There was a lot of commotion, framed in the back by large windows looking into the water park. Luckily, the line moved briskly and our room was ready. Time to hit the park!

I don't know how big the physical space of the park is, but every inch is maximized. We spent much of that afternoon in the wave pool, but there is also a large toddler water play area (equipped with slides, replicas of water skis where kids can climb up to "ride" them while pointing water hoses at their parents, fountains, the whole bit), an indoor and outdoor hot tub, a centralized play area with water spraying everywhere and an enormous bucket of water that "spilled" every few minutes. I haven't even gotten to the three water slides, two of which extend out the back of the building and are lit up at night.

The girls loved it. Emma didn't seem to mind getting rolled around in the wave pool while Phoebe enjoyed the toddler slide. Doug and I remained in a state of shock at the size of the place and the sort maniacal frenzy that occurs when kids run amok. Not to mention the body content.

I've never been much for running around scantily clad in public, so I'm never really prepared for others who do. Living in Seattle, it's sort of nice to know that I'm required to wear multiple layers more than six months out of the year. But in this water park, it was all there-the bulges, the man-boobs, the fake boobs, tattoos-much more information about the people staying within close proximity of me than I wanted to know.

And of course, when you have kids in an isolated place, you have stuff for sale that their parents get sucked into buying. There's a game happening at the lodge called MagiQuest. There are a series of "quests" you have to complete using a wand. The kid waves the wand in front of a treasure chest, a raccoon statue, or whatever has the MagiQuest symbol and that object animates or makes a noise. Naturally, the wand costs money. If you want it to actually make the treasure chest open up or the jewels the light up, you have to buy in to play the game. Then there are the "toppers" that decorate your wand, the ribbons that hang from the wand and the holster to hold your wand. It's maddening how totally captivated they have you and your kids. Just standing in the store I eavesdropped on three arguments between parents who couldn't agree on how much of that stuff to buy.

We got wands for both girls (without accessories) and bought the game for Emma, making her promise to animate the objects behind Phoebe if she figured out the wand waving. I have admit, if I was a kid waving a wand at a picture that suddenly lit up and started talking to me, I'd think that was super cool. Our girl felt the same. Emma ran around the lobby with very elaborate flourishes of her wand, even yelling out spells from "Harry Potter." Phee caught on right quick when a treasure chest opened for her shining with jewels and exclaimed, "I did it! I DID it!"

I loved that they were engaged, relatively safe in a hotel of other families doing the same thing, and feeling totally empowered by their newfound magical abilities. We were joined in the merriment by our friends, The Angulo Family, as well as Doug's cousin and his family (The 'L Kims'), so the girls had familiar faces to explore with them. It was far too late before the kids hit the hay, but that's what "crazy-up" time is about, right?

Throughout the weekend I thought a lot about the difficulties of taking the family out, whether it's on vacation, to a restaurant, or even to the grocery store. Everybody has their own agenda: The kids want to be entertained and have fun while the parents worry about logistics, safety, expense, avoiding tantrums and where the coffee and alcohol are located. As I watched one couple argue over the cost of the MagiQuest wand, it was obvious that they were not following the same agenda. The father was enamored with the light-up topper, perhaps even more so than his son. The mother flatly refused to pay for it. When the mother-in-law got involved, I wished I could turn my ears off.

I stood there asking myself, why do we do this? Why do we plunk down a lot of money for places like these? Why do we literally buy into the fantasy being sold to us? Why do we encourage it in our children? Looking around the shop, I saw couples conflicted, at odds with their children's expectations as well as their own. Just getting the car loaded up and the kids ready was stressful enough, then you have to navigate around the other families, the hotel merch, and keeping track of your kids amidst the sea of other crazy little gnomes.

Standing in line to buy our wands, Doug had turned to me and said, "Can we just come back and do this later?"
I answered, "We're already in line. It might be worse later."
But I wish I had realized what I was hoping for then. We were there together-as a family. We wanted our kids to have fun, and have fun with them. We wanted to give them the unexpected thrill of riding a water slide. We wanted them to be free to splash and laugh, swallowing water and gurgling to the surface. We wanted our girls to feel empowered when they made a bear statue light up or chipmunks sing them a song. In times like these, their joy becomes ours because we feel like we're finally doing something right.

That happiness. Knowing how difficult it can be to keep everyone in line, yet growing - thriving even - then seeing a crooked-toothed grin or hearing the spontaneous cry, "That was the best weekend of my life!"
It's totally rewarding. When Doug and I first talked about having children our goals were relatively simple. We just wanted them to be happy and well-adjusted. It may be too soon to tell, but I can't help but hear Phee's little voice, still clear in my mind as she shouted, "I DID it!"