Confessions of a Tacoma mom

After last weekend I now have these pictures of slightly significant while less than proud or profound moments in my life. But if you’re from Tacoma and you own a child, or four, you may recognize these environments …

The first is from Friday night on the outdoor deck at Whole Foods. I’d arranged a couple
hours of my evening to catch up with an old friend. We were limited on time and for that reason preferred to stay local in the University Place suburbs which feel like a damn Rat Race challenge getting in or out of. But with an increasingly sleepy baby in tow and a puny puddle of options for wine by the glass, if you count Applebee’s and Grassi’s two-fork boutique, we opted to meander a few aisles at Whole Foods.

Now, in all honesty, I have not been a huge fan of the big, high-priced grocer and would only dare enter if I had less than three things on my list and wanted to feel fancy that day. Otherwise I find Whole Foods is only good for free samples and the fresh-baked cookie aisle. But that paired with a heavy pour fit the bill for the night. Walk-up beer and wine service plus an outdoor deck with wooden lawn chairs and heat lamps … equals ... mom spot. I could sit without the veteran-server-guilt of our late night, last minute, wine only, plus baby scenario.

And for just a few moments I felt like it was my very own wrap-around porch and outdoor fireplace on a warm summer evening when a bunch of late night grocery shoppers parked in my paved lot. Needless to say, we were ushered out by the staff when 10 pm rolled around and Lea was about three cookies deep. Now we’re both big fans of our neighborhood Whole Foods.
**Side note: 3-6 pm happy hour and free Wi-Fi. Case closed. J

The second photo is that of my not-yet two-year-old daughter overlooking the first floor of Tacoma’s infamous Chuck E Cheese. If you’ve ever been a kid or have had one of your own in the South Sound Area, you know the place I’m talking about. It’s free to enter but a paycheck to participate. Neon lights and dancing mascots give off the feel of a Vegas strip for youngsters, except you’ll leave smelling like old socks and bad pizza instead of booze and cigarettes. I’m not sure which is worse.

It’s kind of a zoo at Chuck E Cheese. As you enter they stamp numbers on your hands to match you with your child. You know, for security purposes, so you feel both safe and alarmed at the same time. The jungle gym rattles in its anchor to the ceiling. Children’s shrill screams and fits of cries fill the air with an eerie uncertainty as to their joyous or torturous cause. Should you ever drop a token or ticket reel, greasy little fingers will snatch unclaimed loot before you even know it’s gone.  When in Vegas … ammaright?

And all the while I was taken back to days when this was my playground. When the center of the room was engulfed by the pool-sized ball pit that my older cousin would chuck us across so we could swim through the plastic waters screaming “Again! Again!” And now we’re here, me with my own little lady for that cousin’s son’s third birthday party. Life sure comes full circle. And some things just change in time, like the omission of that ball pit after rumors of unmentionables being found. Like the remodel of the old big toy to make room for a new one plucked straight from some McDonalds (in my opinion) or the creepy animatronic band reduced down to the one Chuck now with a facelift that’s left him looking less like our beloved mouse and more like a cheap counterfeit.

That’s just the product of time and age, working our brains, our interests, our perceptions, until those childhood holidays seem far less magical. But that day, thanks to coffee and Lea, I felt her fits of joy bring it all back. We filled our pockets with tokens and made our rounds for etch-a-sketch pictures and coin slot rides. We threw basketballs and aspired to blow ten bucks on a 25 cent toy. But you know what, it was worth it. To kick off a childhood memory with her. To celebrate the circle of life and spend our day together in a delirious play land. We won’t be back for a while. But I guarantee, we will be back.