WHAT DIDN'T WORK FOR US - THE CONCESSION STAND

I worked concession last night during Kayla's softball game. By the way, our girls won 13-3. I don't really know much else since I was in the concession stand, but...

Did I tell you our concession stand has been revamped? And it's really neat. Kudos to those who are in charge of it! I think one of them may read this so let's hear it for the Concession Committee. Is that what you're called "The Concession Committee?" or is it "Executive Board in Charge of Food and Beverage?"

Anyway, I love the new drawer thingee that holds the cash box, and the new professionally made menu banner outside. And I can't wait to try a cinnamon-sugar pretzel. And I love that you put me down to work in early June instead of in July when the heat would be REALLY bad. I mean yesterday was bad enough at 90 degrees with 80% humidity. So a big thank you for that. So anyway, thanks Concession People. I appreciate your work.
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Working concession is usually not so bad. You get to visit with the other parents that are working. You get to see lots of kids. You get to support your Youth League because being surrounded by all the treats makes you hungry, so you just keep dropping money into the cash box and eating crap...I mean junk...I mean treats.

And working concession brings back memories of the days when YOUR OWN kids were little and you tried to make a night at the ball park bearable for all. You know? It reminds you of one of your failures as a parent. It gives you an idea for a "What didn't work for us" blog post.

When Blake started baseball Kayla was about 3. One of the biggest challenges was telling her over and over again that she could NOT go to the nearby playground because we were there to watch her brother play ball; but that after the game we'd go play for a while. I carried Fashion Pollies with me. I carried coloring books. I carried snacks and juice. I carried money.

I carried tequila.

Oh! I'm kidding.

I didn't bring coloring books.

Oh stop! I'm kidding again.

Anyway, I carried money so I could bribe her a couple of times through the game with food and she'd sit quietly and nibble on whatever junk food she chose. Turns out, the kid soon learned that I'd fork out money for candy to keep her quiet. So I started being nickeled and dimed to death.

Or extorted.

And then her brother would finish the game and be absolutely starving and dying of thirst so I'd fork out more money at the stand for him. Now I believe in supporting the local ball leagues and all; but come on!! It gets ridiculous. Which leads to another of my biggest challenges at the ball diamond-keeping spending under control.

Can I get an Amen on this?

So one summer I decided I was taking charge of the concession spending our family did. I tried different things. I tried buying a case of skittle packs at Sam's and giving each child one at the game (cause they always chose skittles at the concession stand), then allowing them to buy popcorn with the 50 cents I gave them. I also carried our own water.

Turns out, if Skittles is their only option, kids suddenly hate them, even if that's what they ordered EVERY SINGLE TIME THEY PLACED THEIR DIRTY LITTLE HANDS ON THE CONCESSION STAND COUNTER. So they'd say "I dooooon't liiiiiike Skiiiiiiiitlesuh."

And as consistent and firm as I tried to be in my parenting, something about the hot humid ball diamond turned me completely spineless and I'd fork over more money.

So the next summer I tried telling them they could each have ONE DOLLAR for the ballgames. ONE DOLLAR PER GAME. I. AM. NOT. KIDDING. DO NOT ASK FOR MORE. YOU. WILL. NOT. GET. IT.

By this time both kids were playing ball and we probably had 4 nights a week, if not more, full with baseball and softball, so a dollar per game was still a lot of money by the time the week was over. But I held firm with the Dollar Per Game rule.

For about 6 games.

Because, dang!!

Kids are persistent! I don't know if any of you have noticed that. But little kids can sure hang in there when it comes to wanting stuff.

Again, I don't know how they wore me down so easily, but they did.

Mommy can I have a bag of m&m's?

Where's your dollar?

I spent it on Skittles and popcorn. Can I have more money?

NO.

Please mommy?

NO. One dollar per game. That's it.

Pleeeeeease moooooommmmmmy! I won't ask for anything else. Just one more treat.

No.

Just m&m's. That's all I'll ask for the rest of the game. Pleeeeeeease?

Oh alright!!

And what they didn't hear me say was "if it'll shut you up you can have a whole stinkin case of m&m's. And, by the way, where is your father?!" But I was thinking it.

And now? Well, first of all, Blake rarely shows up at the ball diamond because he's a wrestler and a football player now, so I'm getting off easy with that. Plus he um...well...he doesn't find it a priority to sit through a junior high girls softball game. As for the rest of us; I usually take an Airborne tube full of quarters. By the way, did you know Airborne tubes are perfect for stacking quarters in? Anyway, I take a tube of quarters and any ones and fives I can find in my purse or in my secret place in the van. Whatever. I try to come loaded, even though the concession stand isn't such a novelty now that the kids are teenagers.

The point is that now I don't even try to fight the concession stand battle. I waved that white flag several seasons ago. Because sometimes I'm a parenting wimp.

And because I like m&m's too.