Sometimes I create really stupid obstacles for Alexis to overcome. It's not entirely for my own amusement -- in many ways, it's because I hope this is hard as her life gets. I know that adversity makes us stronger, but that doesn't mean I ever want to see her name listed next to the words survivor, victim, or anything like that.
Stupid adversity is fun. Geniune adversity is not.
Enter humans in giant costumes.
Alexis is scared of them. She has been scared of them since she had a nightmarish encounter with the Pirates drunken douchebag Pirate mascot when she was about two years old. Maybe younger. It's too bad I don't have a place where I write about all of this stuff so I could just search and find out for sure ...
Lazy wins. She was little when it happened. Evidence is around here somewhere.
ANYWAY. I was carrying her around PNC Park, he snuck up behind her and poked her sides, and two seconds later I opened a new savings account for all the money we need to save for therapy for the poor kid. She was TRAUMATIZED. And it stuck. We've encountered tears and total freak-outs from just being in the same room as Chuck E. Cheese, Mickey Mouse, and all of their less rodent-like friends.
It has been slowly wearing off, though. Two years ago the kid even got brave enough to meet a few characters while we were in Disney World. The phobia wasn't totally cured, but rather she figured out how compartmentalize some of it.
Then we went to the Great American Water Balloon Fight.
Within seconds of walking through the gate, I spotted the Pirate Parrot. "I'll give you $1 if you go give him a hug," I told Alexis.
She promptly yelled, "NOOOOOO!" and ran the other way.
It was amusing. Muchly.
When I'm amused by something, I try to make it happen again. I offered Alexis $1 to walk up to Iceburgh. I got the same result. SO MUCH FUN.
It was time to up the ante. There were people in costumes all over the place, and I was ready to enjoy Alexis being moderately scared of ALL OF THEM. Alternately, she could end up not being scared of them and how fantastic would that be? I started putting a price on each of their heads and then watched as she tried to decide whether she wanted to stay safe and sound next to me or go work for her money.
$1 earned. She walked right up to the Riverhounds mascot and asked for a photo, no hesitation or fear at all.
She even gave him a hug.
With $1 in her pocket and a grin on her face, I raised the stakes a bit. $5. Pirate Parrot.
She wouldn't do it. I didn't try to talk her into it because she was WAY animate that she wasn't going near him.
Fine. Iceburgh. $2.
BINGO.
It was right about then that I wanted to wander over and say hi to some folks from ScareHouse. On the way, Alexis walked a wide circle around a couple of zombies and the ScareHouse Bunny. A VERY wide circle.
An idea was born.
"I'll give you $10 if you hug the bunny," I told her.
Her eyes lit up but then instantly turned dark as she realized that she had to get close to the bunny in order to score herself some money.
Whatever. It didn't matter to me. After a few minutes, I asked Alexis if she wanted to return to the kids area so she could play on the giant inflatable slide.
"No, I want to stay here and watch the zombies," she replied.
THAT'S MY GIRL.
"OK," I said. "By the way, my offer still stands. $10. Bunny."
Alexis stood there and watched the bunny for several minutes, staring with her laser beam eyes. She wanted that $10, but C'MON. THE BUNNY?
It really wasn't a fair dare. I figured I would give her the $10 even if she didn't do it because I didn't want her to beat herself up over the decision.
Just as I was about to tell her I was giving her the money either way, she marched her little butt up to that bunny. They had a little conversation (one-sided since the ScareHouse Bunny doesn't talk), and BAM.
Challenge accepted.
Now I just need to figure out what stupid adversity for the kid to overcome next.