Unlike last year, when I spent the day cleaning out the garage (see blog post http://begginformercy.blogspot.com/2011/03/last-night-like-most-people-across.html), we managed to find some fun for the family for St. Patrick's Day. Armed with determination and strong will, we made the trek downtown to 5 Points in Columbia for one of the biggest parties in the state. Is it a great idea to bring kids to this kind of a shindig? Probably not. Did we do it anyway? Yes. And before you go getting all judgy on me...we also armed ourselves with shields of common sense to protect our little ones' eyes from the debauchery that is a part of the 5 Points festival. Also, we didn't stay after a certain time...when most of the alcohol had been imbibed and when the bad decisions started making their appearances, and appearances they do make.
One of the main reasons that we decided to go was to see my baby brother's band play (John Wesley Satterfield and His Damn Fine Band, for those not in the know). The benefit of him having gotten us free passes helped, too, because, seriously, who in the world wants to pay 15 bucks for one ticket to SOBERLY mill around thousands of sweaty, cussing drunks in the hot, hot sun with kids? Not this pregnant chick. Anywho...John Wesley's performance was fun. Ella and Summit think it's pretty cool to see their uncle up on the stage with a bunch of people singing and dancing and giving him their undivided attention. Ella especially (Dear God, please let her finish college in a timely manner). They also L.O.V.E.D. having him dedicate a song to them, and I love that it makes them feel special and proud.
We also got to see our lovelies from Charleston. Ashley and Bryan and their friends from New York got to come...without their kids and without being pregnant...and they got to join in on the good, old-fashioned debauchery that includes slamming 20 ounce beers before they get too hot and shooting vodka-laced green jello from over-sized syringes into their mouths. Good for them. Good for them. I wasn't jealous at all. Not.At.All.
There's also a cute little kids' carnival in MLK Park for the wee ones to enjoy...but, let's get real, that's not necessarily the best reason to endure said sweaty, cussing drunks. Since we were there, we ventured to the land of partial sanity, where kids were jumping wildly on jump castles and riding those rides that used to be outside of grocery stores when I was a little girl. There was a stage set up for double-dutch jump ropers and a spot designated for kids' karaoke. Much to my amusement, some parents were more than happy to get up and share their musical talents...parents who clearly are legends in their own minds...and I know how they feel...though I would never have been brave enough to broadcast my voice to a park full of people. However, I'm sure happy they did.
After downing some energy-recharging Hawaiian shaved ice, we made the intelligent decision NOT to go back into the green vortex, and began the expedition back to the car. It wasn't short. Or easy. Or fun. I couldn't walk fastly enough, and I couldn't walk slowly enough, if that makes sense. The descent of pollen into my olfactory glands, which has never bothered me before, sent me into a sneezing frenzy. The descent of pressure from the baby girl growing inside of me onto my bladder was exacerbated by the sneezes, and no matter how many times I tried to stop and squeeze my legs together to prevent the sneeze and bladder pressure from "affecting"me, the result was NOT awesome. (Seriously, Baby Girl, you have GOT to change positions in there!)
Eventually, we made it back to the car, safe and sound, but definitely worse for wear. Most of all, I think everyone was happy to just sit down...in a safe, alcohol-free zone. (I would say pee-free zone, but that wasn't the case for all of us.) Another St. Patrick's Day down. Another good time. This St. Patrick's Day didn't disappoint...but next year, I'm making plans for myself. Plans that don't include cleaning out garages or growing babies.
We were joined on the way down by our friends, Andy and Lauren, who came to visit from their home in the mountains, and the Harpers...Denise and Martin and Jackson and Parsons. I'm pretty sure I found the FARTHEST spaces in the world for us to park in, and I would have been happy to search for something closer if it weren't for the pressure of Matt and Martin to seal the deal quickly. (Note to self: IGNORE the guys. Women are ALWAYS smarter.) The journey into the green vortex wasn't so bad, but the trip out was quite uncomfortable... for this constantly sneezing, fetus-pushing-on-the-bladder, pregnant lady anyway.
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