Weekend Recap: St. Patrick's Day
I have been a mom for almost six years now, but for whatever reason it is only occurring to me now how freakin' impossible it is to find family-friendly things to do on St. Patrick's Day. Especially if your family lives in Boston, aka Little Ireland. And most especially when the high holy day falls on a Saturday. You would think that would make it easier, but no. It being Saturday only ensures there will be even MORE Amateurs out and about, who have all been drinking since sun-up. Small children and sloppy drunks do not mix, yo.
So Esposo and a friend of ours came up with a theoretically good alternative. A gigantic, outdoor mall in Foxboro was hosting a kid-friendly St. Pat's festival with all the trimmings: live music, step dancers, face painters, kiosks, and a bouncy house (natch). Now, I SAY "theoretically" because my friend bostonerin and her brood had a great time - they timed it right, I guess. Us, on the other hand? We faced insanely long lines for stuff like the bouncy house and the face paint, an hour-plus wait for all of the restaurants, and crowds so thick you couldn't get near the step dancing show (Patoot was particularly broken-hearted about that).
So we ran away to a pub/restaurant nearby to recover from our wasted efforts:
I swear. We did not give the Munchkin any Guinness.
The next day was Sunday and I swore, As God Is My Witness, we will salvage the St. Patrick's Day weekend. We started the day with a tradition held over from my childhood...
Green pancakes. Totally as authentic as soda bread.
Then I made what was, for me, a rash decision. Despite the fact I am a born-and-bred Bostonian, I have never attended the famous St. Patrick's Day parade in South Boston. This is probably due to the fact that the parade has become more INfamous than anything else. Just picture green beer, Yah Dudes in neon green afro wigs, and general public lunacy and you've got a pretty accurate depiction. At least, the depiction in my head, since I'd never been.
But yesterday I was all, "Dammit it's a PARADE. Kids love parades. This thing can't be as bad as I am imagining it to be." So we went, against all of my natural instincts to avoid it like the aforementioned green beer.
And you know what? It WASN'T as bad as I thought. In fact, it was fun.
The aspect that most stymied me in the past was getting in and out of South Boston. Practically all the streets are closed, and there's nowhere to park in Southie on a normal day as it is. So I figured we'd have to T it in with a sea of be-shamrocked lunatics.
Not so!
I realized that - DUH - the Esposo WORKS IN SOUTH BOSTON. We simply parked at his school and walked a few blocks to a reasonable parade-viewing spot. Patoot was NOT a fan of the walking and complained bitterly the whole time. I can't blame her - it was hot - but the Esposo assured me that it would "build character."
I could only stand to build her character for so long, though, so I hopped into the first free viewing spot I saw. The kids approved of the location...
"You mean we can stop walking? Then YES. This spot is AWESOME."
It was far down the route, however, so it meant we had a long wait before the parade actually got to us. I was afraid the kids were going to treat us to a meltdown eventually, but one thing Southie does not lack is sufficient people (and dressed-up pet!) watching.
Plus, ice cream/snow cones.
Thank the Baby Jesus. Or, I guess, Saint Pat.
Speaking of which. When the parade finally rolled our way, I discovered it was this odd amalgam of really professional-sounding pipe & drum bands and brass bands and...crazy stuff.
Like the float dedicated to the Man of the Hour Himself:
(Kind of unavoidable, really.)
Shriners. In fez hats. Driving teensy cars and trucks.
And, of course, Darth Vader.
I mean. Obviously.
There were also horses, guys in three-corner hats firing (really loud) muskets, politicians throwing green lollipops, Irish wolfhounds and setters, one dude in a wildly feathered Carnivale outfit, AND the Ghostbusters. Just in case, you know.
All in all, I think it was a success for our first time. We even headed back to our favorite pub/restaurant, James's Gate, for dinner and there was an Irish sesiun going on. Plus the finest pint of Guinness in town. Next year we'll know to pack more snacks, bring diversions for the wait, and blankets to sit on. But on the whole, I think it worked out pretty well.
The über-Irish Munchkin agrees.
"Anything that involves lollipops is aces in my book, Mom."
Hope everyone else had fun, safe St. Paddy's Days. Slainte!
So Esposo and a friend of ours came up with a theoretically good alternative. A gigantic, outdoor mall in Foxboro was hosting a kid-friendly St. Pat's festival with all the trimmings: live music, step dancers, face painters, kiosks, and a bouncy house (natch). Now, I SAY "theoretically" because my friend bostonerin and her brood had a great time - they timed it right, I guess. Us, on the other hand? We faced insanely long lines for stuff like the bouncy house and the face paint, an hour-plus wait for all of the restaurants, and crowds so thick you couldn't get near the step dancing show (Patoot was particularly broken-hearted about that).
So we ran away to a pub/restaurant nearby to recover from our wasted efforts:
I swear. We did not give the Munchkin any Guinness.
The next day was Sunday and I swore, As God Is My Witness, we will salvage the St. Patrick's Day weekend. We started the day with a tradition held over from my childhood...
Green pancakes. Totally as authentic as soda bread.
Then I made what was, for me, a rash decision. Despite the fact I am a born-and-bred Bostonian, I have never attended the famous St. Patrick's Day parade in South Boston. This is probably due to the fact that the parade has become more INfamous than anything else. Just picture green beer, Yah Dudes in neon green afro wigs, and general public lunacy and you've got a pretty accurate depiction. At least, the depiction in my head, since I'd never been.
But yesterday I was all, "Dammit it's a PARADE. Kids love parades. This thing can't be as bad as I am imagining it to be." So we went, against all of my natural instincts to avoid it like the aforementioned green beer.
And you know what? It WASN'T as bad as I thought. In fact, it was fun.
The aspect that most stymied me in the past was getting in and out of South Boston. Practically all the streets are closed, and there's nowhere to park in Southie on a normal day as it is. So I figured we'd have to T it in with a sea of be-shamrocked lunatics.
Not so!
I realized that - DUH - the Esposo WORKS IN SOUTH BOSTON. We simply parked at his school and walked a few blocks to a reasonable parade-viewing spot. Patoot was NOT a fan of the walking and complained bitterly the whole time. I can't blame her - it was hot - but the Esposo assured me that it would "build character."
I could only stand to build her character for so long, though, so I hopped into the first free viewing spot I saw. The kids approved of the location...
"You mean we can stop walking? Then YES. This spot is AWESOME."
It was far down the route, however, so it meant we had a long wait before the parade actually got to us. I was afraid the kids were going to treat us to a meltdown eventually, but one thing Southie does not lack is sufficient people (and dressed-up pet!) watching.
Plus, ice cream/snow cones.
Thank the Baby Jesus. Or, I guess, Saint Pat.
Speaking of which. When the parade finally rolled our way, I discovered it was this odd amalgam of really professional-sounding pipe & drum bands and brass bands and...crazy stuff.
Like the float dedicated to the Man of the Hour Himself:
(Kind of unavoidable, really.)
Shriners. In fez hats. Driving teensy cars and trucks.
And, of course, Darth Vader.
I mean. Obviously.
There were also horses, guys in three-corner hats firing (really loud) muskets, politicians throwing green lollipops, Irish wolfhounds and setters, one dude in a wildly feathered Carnivale outfit, AND the Ghostbusters. Just in case, you know.
All in all, I think it was a success for our first time. We even headed back to our favorite pub/restaurant, James's Gate, for dinner and there was an Irish sesiun going on. Plus the finest pint of Guinness in town. Next year we'll know to pack more snacks, bring diversions for the wait, and blankets to sit on. But on the whole, I think it worked out pretty well.
The über-Irish Munchkin agrees.
"Anything that involves lollipops is aces in my book, Mom."
Hope everyone else had fun, safe St. Paddy's Days. Slainte!