Get Thee to the Bartlett Arboretum

You'll find this shortly inside the entrance at the Bartlett Arboretum. Beautiful.
You’ll find this shortly inside the entrance at the Bartlett Arboretum. Beautiful.

I looked at the clock on the stove in the kitchen. 3:05. I was unshowered, and still in my pj’s, taking a day’s rest to nurse my sinus headache and resulting malaise. While a small part of me wanted to stay in the comfort of my home and my leopard pajama bottoms, a bigger part of me, much bigger, spurred me into action. I had to get to the Arb. Year after year, I vow to check out Art at the Arb, a weekend of music and arts at the Bartlett Arboretum, just a short drive from my house. But something comes up every time. This year, though, my only excuse for not attending was…well..the whole needing to shower thing and getting two small kids out the door thing. I had to go. I wanted desperately to go. I checked the schedule online. My friends Ken White and Robin Macy were set to take the stage at 4:45. We could make it.

I flew into a frenzy of showering, dressing, packing, and left my house in record time. My husband had work to do, so it was just me and the girls. While I knew wrangling an almost two and almost four-year-old on my own in a crowd would prove difficult, my desire to go outweighed my aversion to taking my children out in public places. Off we went, straight east for about half an hour, and pulled into the lot at the Arboretum. I prepped the girls on good behavior before we got out of the car.

“You have to listen to mommy. You have to hold mommy’s hand. You have to stay close to me. You have to blah…blah…blah…” I was even annoying myself at this point. I just had to trust the situation, and my children.

I’m not sure if it was the peaceful environment or the fact that my girls are maturing, but something magical transpired when we walked through the entrance. The girls politely responded to comments about their matching dresses, and didn’t (immediately) act like wild animals. We were off to a good start. And while I had been to the Arboretum a handful of times, seeing it through my children’s eyes was something different entirely. The atmosphere of the event, and the venue, is at once lively and serene. Calm and invigorating. It felt like a safe space to explore with my girls, and explore we did.

 

Two sweet butterflies drinking lemonade.
Two sweet butterflies drinking lemonade.

First, it was face painting, a new adventure for both of my daughters. The artist was quick and skilled with children, and before long, the sisters were transformed into butterflies, much to their delight. Down the path we continued, in search of some food and beverages. Each person that we met along the way was genuinely friendly, and couldn’t help but comment on the girls’ matching winged faces. “I a butterfly. Sissy a butterfly,” my toddler said on repeat to every stranger we passed. Up ahead, we spotted a large, lemon-shaped lemonade stand, which offered kid-sized cups with crazy straws, a small extravagance, but one I couldn’t turn down when caught up in the moment. My preschooler, not one to let the details slip by, made sure to ask the lemonade lady, “So, do you sleep in this thing every night?” and, “If this looked like a giant orange, would you serve orange juice?”

We split a serving of creamy pasta from Luciano’s before getting ready to settle in for the concert on the outdoor stage. Before we could do anything else, though, a bathroom break was in order. And this, of all things, was something I didn’t really think about. Navigating a port-o-potty with a preschooler and toddler by yourself is nearly impossible. And although some kind strangers offered to help by watching the youngest while I took her older sister inside, I would rather risk a preschooler’s accident than a toddler’s disappearance. We made it work, but that is our little secret. 🙂

The Freddy’s Frozen Custard booth was much too tempting, and I splurged by letting each girl have her own cup. The preschooler got chocolate and sprinkles on her vanilla dish, and the toddler chose “nim nims” (M&Ms). We didn’t have the foresight to bring our own chairs, so we plopped down on an open spot of grass in front of the wooden outdoor stage. Both girls stood, as they had to have a view of the performance, and we filled our mouths with smooth, sweet tastes, while the sound of smooth, sweet music filled our ears.

Mom, hold my ice cream, I gotta dance!
Mom, hold my ice cream, I gotta dance!

“Mom, hold my ice cream, I gotta dance!” My preschooler handed me her half-melted dessert, and started shaking and spinning and shimmying alongside her sister. They carved a wide ring around the open grassy area, laughing and shrieking with the sticky treat still on their faces. After a few run-ins with polite, seated concert goers, (their dancing got a little out of hand and they kept crashing into people), I decided we’d better make our way toward the exit.

We took our time leaving, and while chasing two sugar-fueled children through a crowd in opposite directions was stressful, I’m trying to block the toddler meltdowns and preschooler sass-talk from my memory and just linger on the magical moments. There were many. So many, in fact, that my only regret about attending Art at the Arb this year was not going sooner. We’ll be back. Oh yes, my toddler who thought the phrase was “trample through the tulips,” and my preschooler who was acting out scenes from the Bridge to Terabithia on unsuspecting bystanders while wielding a stick in her hand, oh yes, we’ll be back.

Shortly before, and shortly after this photo was snapped by a kind stranger, I had to peel my toddler off the ground because she was refusing to leave. But hey, we got the pic!
Shortly before, and shortly after this photo was snapped by a kind stranger, I had to peel my toddler off the ground because she was refusing to leave. But hey, we got the pic!

 

Want to know more about the Bartlett Arboretum? Watch this:

5 responses to “Get Thee to the Bartlett Arboretum

  1. Thank you for including the video at the end of your post. I’ve never been to the arboretum and I’m scratching my head wondering why.

  2. This is the inspiration I need to make it out to the Arb soon. And the post also reminds me of the magical moments I experienced with my kids at Botanica, the zoo, and most of all the Scottish Festival in McPherson. Thanks, Cat!

  3. Thanks for sharing your experience at Art at the Arb. It’s one of those wonderful, inexpensive events in the Wichita area that I’ve told people about year after year, but my family has never been able to make it out. (If we could only have TWO weekends every week!)

    The Bartlett Arboretum has concerts throughout the spring, summer, and fall, so I guess we have a few more opportunities to attend this year.

    And by the way, lack of a shower has kept me from my share of events too! 🙂

  4. Thank you for sharing. I was married at the Arboretum in September of 1980. I have not been back since but have wondered if it was still as beautiful. I am glad to see it is still well maintained & loved!!!

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