It’s a metaphor.


We just got back from a weekend in Las Vegas. Before you start imagining Ocean’s Eleven, let me just add that our two little ones came along. So image¬†Mickey Mouse Clubhouse or fights to change it back to Elena of Avalor,¬†and little people just parking it on the middle of the dirty sidewalks because they refuse to walk any farther. Never mind that the Bellagio fountains are going to go off in five minutes. Never mind that Mommy desperately wants to go dive into the chocolate fountains at the Hershey’s store. Nope. Lines have been drawn in the really gross sidewalk, and it’s time to battle it out. Oh, wait; Mama’s gonna carry you and run to the Bellagio.

Now wasn’t that fun?

My daughter wanted to see some acrobats while in Las Vegas, and our plan to see a Cirque show fell through. So I asked our concierge what was available in the acrobat department. She recommended the Midway at Circus Circus. Because she hated me and wanted me to suffer.

So we went thataway (after stopping at Target and buying Halloween costumes and snacks, but not bobby pins as they were all sold out). And after much schlepping, we found ourselves sitting in the stands at the Midway at Circus Circus.

A little sign said that unicycling was the next act. I told my daughter. And she crumpled into tears. Unicyling is not acrobatic-y enough. She wanted to see real acrobats. Unicycling was just too mundane. Clearly, this was a tragedy.

“But are they going to do something more?” she asked between her sobs.

How many times can a mama say, “I don’t know”?

It was at this point that the noise and the smoke and “the amazement” became a little too much for me (actually, that happened the night before, waiting for the Mirage volcano to erupt).

So out came these two women who then climbed up a ladder and started peddling on these extra tall unicylces while balancing a stack of bowls on their heads. And they held hands. And they wore pretty dresses. And come on. It was super acrobaty.

As I watched these women throw dishes (at one point a metal kettle was thrown) at each other and catch the dishes in a neat stack on their heads, I though, “This is a metaphor for motherhood.”

It was just as absurd as motherhood. It was just as precarious. It looked just as ridiculous as motherhood feels, while still oddly making one think, “I wonder if I could do that…” And then, “I bet I could learn to do that given enough time and practice.” It looked impossible, but the unicycling duo caught every dish thrown on their heads. Motherhood is a type of venture if ever there was one. It is just my hubs who quotes “Anything… Is possible… at ZomboCom.”

But like the act, somewhere in the absurdness of motherhood, there is a touch a whimsy and a lot to clap and smile about too.

After the women neatly jumped down from their unicycles and took their bows (and the bowls off their heads) the midway cleared out. My daughter was sold. She was ready to wait an entire hour for the next act, enigmatically named “pyramid.” My son and I were not willing to sit for an hour in the smokey, noisy midway. I googled and found that the Adventuredome was not far.

And once we landed there, all acrobat pining was forgotten. The pull of adrenaline was too great. We stayed at the Adventuredome until hubs’s convention thingy ended. And everyone was happy. Including me. And no one thought deep thoughts about motherhood for the rest of the day. The end.

What metaphors have you discovered in your travels? What has made you stop and smile lately?