Wiggle Mania

A couple weeks ago I was happily surprised with four free tickets to The Wiggles concert at the Rose Garden Memorial Coliseum in Portland. For anyone who doesn't have small children and are therefore unaware of who exactly The Wiggles are, I'll give you a brief rundown. The Wiggles are four grown men who have heeded the sometimes uncomfortable yet oh so valuable call of children's entertainment. They sing, dance, play random instruments and, best of all, have lovely Australian accents. Kids everywhere love 'em. Most parents enjoy them. My brother has banned them from his home.

Late Saturday morning, my mother, my niece Isabella, Siennalee and I all packed up and headed north to Portland for our special day of lunch out and The Wiggles concert!

My niece Isabella is a wonderfully sweet and sensitive girl with a thoughtful disposition. She has an unfortunate and quite keen dislike of loud situations. Sadly, The Wiggles were not informed of Bella's preference of quiet concerts.

So while Siennalee bounced and grooved to the first tunes of the Aussie performers, something was quietly brewing over on the other side of unsuspecting Grammie.

Something insidious. Something unfortunate. Something that makes your face red and your eyes continuously stream with giant splashy tears. Something that makes you wail loudly and despondently at the top of your three year old lungs.

It was full blown Wiggle-mania. And I don't mean the good kind. It was sad, agonizing, and downright emotionally bloody.

My daughter suddenly noticed her cousin's disgruntled state and became concerned enough to stop the dancing and move over to ascertain the situation and perhaps assist.

Siennalee could tell right away that her services were required. The Wiggles were of no more interest to her. Something more important was needed here.

Siennalee took a moment to study her cousin and then administered the best medicine known to her little 18 month old world. A kiss and a hug.

The rest of the story pales in comparison to that tender moment.

I'd love to be able to tell you that The Wiggles won out that day. But alas, they did not. Their fun songs and goofy dances could not stop my niece from insisting at the tippy top of her lungs that she be removed from this unnerving concert. And after I intercepted one or two very dirty looks from nearby mothers of children who were trying to enjoy The Wiggles with all their might, I agreed with Grammie that she should take Isabella and leave the arena.

I tried to re-engage Sienna with the concert, but she was having none of it. In fact, at a quieter moment when one Wiggle was attempting to deliver a tot-sized jocularity from his stage, my toddler bellowed (now think Streetcar Named Desire here), "BEEEEELL-LLLAAAAAAAAAHHH!" And that was that. I grabbed all coats, hats, backpacks, purses, and sippies and whisked us outta there.

The concert began at 1:30. We were homeward bound at 1:45. And that was our day with The Wiggles.

Below I include pictures of happier times, pre-Wiggles at lunch and concert seating, and post-Wiggles scampering around the Rose Garden on the way back to the car. Good times.

Happy lunch with Grammie and Auntie and Cousin.

Discovering the magical moments of dipping.

Siennalee's first big girl cup with a straw!

Yay! Our first concert!

Scampering around the Rose Garden was just as much fun as the concert!


A public water fountain! What's more fun than a public water fountain?


Oddly enough, a giant reptile was still not as unnerving as The Wiggles.


The Wiggles long forgotten.


Despite its tears and fears, the day was still counted as a success.


And all's well that ends well.