Stretching Boundaries and the Occasional Zombie

We live not far from Six Flags Great Adventure and some years we buy season passes and treat it like a local playground. This year was just such a year after about a four-year hiatus. Ace was in his glory as his goal was to ride all the roller coasters in the park. Which he did, most of them more than once. His Dad’s a huge roller coaster enthusiast and they happily rode the smoother rides together so as to not upset SuperHubby’s back more than it already is. I am not a roller coaster fan. Not in the slightest. I would happily sit and wait while they stood in line then whipped and dipped and sped along. Giggles had always been happy riding the Tea Cup ride for the umpteenth time with me, avoiding what she termed the scary rides. This summer proved to be different as Giggles decided to stretch some of her self-imposed boundaries.

Her Dad had challenged her to go on one new ride every time she went to the park and while at first she was hesitant, once she got a taste for the thrill of each new ride, she was more and more excited. At first it was Runaway Train, which she vacillated over as she looked at the height and the drop over the water. When she screwed up her courage and took the plunge, she immediately wanted to go back for another go ‘round. Meanwhile, Ace was tearing it up on Nitro and Kingda Ka. Smart girl, I say. Next it was Batman and then Superman, which is her absolute favorite and if we went to the park at night when the crowd was thin, she’d be able to take the ride 2 and 3 times without ever getting out of the seat. She moved reluctantly to each new coaster, at first hesitant to commit but in the end would love the excitement of the ride.

Once she discovered the thrill, after conquering her trepidation at each and every new coaster, she couldn’t wait to experience it again. It was absolutely wonderful watching her build that confidence and testing herself, coaster after coaster. Standing in line with her, I could see her speculation as she contemplated the configuration of the roller coaster, watched the reactions of the other riders as they got off and measured her own fear. And then she would get secured into the seat and hang on for dear life and scream all the way through. The scream, clearly for her, is a big part of the ride experience itself. And that girl has some lungs.

I had to stretch my own boundaries in this area myself this year. As I mentioned earlier, I’m not a coaster fan. Nope, not at all, I would happily not participate in the coaster riding. Except SuperHubby has a bad back, which prevents him from riding the coasters as much as he would like, and Giggle’s needs some moral support when she rides these things. I don’t want my fear to hold her back from staring down and overcoming her fears, so I had to suck it up and go with her a few times. I believe there are pills I can take for this anxiety I feel getting on a roller coaster? Anyone wish to share some? I can handle them now, but those pictures waiting to be viewed at the end of each ride? Every single one has the same shot, me with my head back and turned to the side, eyes closed tightly as if in pain and mouth open in a perpetual wail of terror. Some shining example of parental bravery I am. Giggles and I have made kind of a joke about overcoming our coaster fear together. I think she’s conquered her fear, while I still cling tightly to mine.
What appears to be the biggest and baddest coaster in the neighborhood is the wooden one, El Toro. A month ago I would have said NO WAY IN HELL would I ever get on that thing, but a sucker I am for SuperHubby, who basically begged and guilted me onto this monster. “Please.” He said. “I won’t be able to go on these rides much longer with my back.” He said. “I really want to go on this ride with you.” He said. ”Please.” He said. “Fine.” I said, knowing this was so far beyond my better judgment. It wasn’t until I pried my clenched my fingers from the lap brace, started to inhale again after screaming out all the oxygen in my body and hauled my sweat soaked quaking body from the seat to stand on legs that felt like limp quivering noodles, that I pointed at SuperHubby and said “I will NEVER do that again. You are insane.” I embrace my limits. This ride scared the bejesus out of me with the HUGE drops, ripping speed and gut busting turns. Giggle’s can go with Ace when she’s ready.

One would think that after all the fear conquering Giggle’s did this summer, FrightFest would have been a breeze but apparently the chainsaw wielding Zombie that chased her was more than her fevered little mind could handle. After going to the park the other night for the FrightFest experience, she ended up sleeping in our bed after waking up with nightmares. Apparently fear conquering is one stage at a time and Zombies are not on this years list. That’s okay though because as independent and brave as I wish her to be in life, she’s still my little girl.