Daddy Mac was out of town this weekend, so I wanted to do something extra fun with Sam on Saturday morning. It was as much as for me as for him — I was dying to get off of Midlothian Turnpike, even for a little while. Lots of parenting articles recommend giving toddlers options whenever you can, as long as you really are OK with whichever one they pick. So I gave him two options — going to a park with lots of pretty flowers (i.e. Louis Ginter’s Million Blooms) or a place that has a lot of train stuff (i.e. the town of Ashland.)
Yes, it was a no-brainer for Sam the train fanatic but hopefully empowering since he got to make the call himself. If not, he can tell his therapist all about it when he is older. All I can say is I tried my best to develop his sense of self. Anyway we set out on our field trip up to Ashland, local train mecca, with both of us wearing firehats, his voluntarily, mine upon command from the Fire Chief in the back seat. Thankfully there was no need for a permission slip since I am his mother.
What an adorable little town, downright refreshing. We careened into one of a zillion open parking spaces on the street, something Fan residents can only dream about after too many shots. Without any further ado, we raced over to the old train station that has been converted into a cozy little Visitor’s Center. (Actually Sam raced, and I walked while yelling at him to slow down.) Then we ambled along the tracks down quaint Railroad Avenue to check out the fire hydrant and ogle the pastries at Homemades by Suzanne. Then I stopped to get some liquid sunshine on a rainy day get some coffee at Ashland Coffee & Tea while Sam ran around like a Mexican jumping bean wearing a firehat. Don’t worry, I had the wherewithal to left mine in the car.
Sam was so excited he started to walk with his legs bent, kinda like permanent squats. Yes, it was a bit odd. I wasn’t sure quite what the heck was going on, but he seemed happy doing his squats, so that was fine with me. After a few minutes he announced, “Sam’s walking like a train!” Of course, I was trying not to guffaw and crush his budding imagination, so I replied, “Oh, that’s neat!” (What else can you say when your kid tells you he’s walking like a train?) He continued, “Sam’s rolling along the tracks!” OK, I got the concept better then, no problem. Then he commanded, “Mommy, you walk like a train, too!” Let’s just I was so happy that I only know two people who live in Ashland who were nowhere to be seen.
We rolled on down the street in search of the renowned toy train store, Train Town Toy & Hobby. Wow! It was all it had been cracked up to be and more. (Thanks for the tip, Linda!) This place is serious about its trains — everything trains, trains everywhere, and a real red caboose in back. Best of all, it was so neat to see how much the guys running the place genuinely love trains and love their jobs. If only we all had such job satisfaction, we could put Prozac out of business.
The minute we ambled in the door, they turned on their elaborate three-tiered Lionel model train system. Sam was so mesmerized I was ready to ask it to babysit. After reminding myself that babysitters need to have pulse at a minimum, I gave up the tempting idea. Within minutes of looking around the store, though, I realized that Thomas the Tank Engine is only the beginning for me, the mother of a True Train Fanatic (TTF).
When TTFs get older, they seem to graduate onto Lionel model trains. They are amazingly sophisticated toy trains, but they sure do make the Thomas stuff look like a big ole bargain. At least the Lionel trains don’t have lead paint issues! They last forever, and TTFs don’t necessarily ever outgrow them… Boys will be boys, you know. I’m willing to bet our knowledgeable shopkeepers, both TTFs, have been playing with toy trains since they were Sam’s age or younger.
At this point, I’d be thrilled for Sam to run a train shop when he’s older, even if it requires him to walk like a train from time to time. It’s a heck of a lot safer than being a fireman!
LibbY