It was his first time, and my first time braving all the possible things that can go terribly wrong when one brings a little toddler to a show - losing him in the throngs of parents and excited children waving their glow-in-the-dark sticks and tambourines, facing a public tantrum meltdown, watching him run down the aisle, climb up the stage to touch the performers, you name it.
Once inside the Expo Hall, I had to reluctantly take D out of his stroller to exchange it for a booster seat - praying under my breath that he will not try to make a break for it once he's unstrapped and faced with the hundred plus square metres of running space.
Thankfully, other than a slight burst of tears following his being accidentally whacked by another toddler's glow torch, the little boy sat on his booster seat, mostly enthralled by the loud music, over-exuberant performers, and oh the bright stage lights!
But let it also be said that having to chase after an escaping toddler during intermission, in such a massive arena while being 27 weeks pregnant, and having to wrestle him back to his seat by using a football hold, isn't a terribly smart thing to do.
Why do I do this to myself?
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