I’ve learned a lot of things since becoming a parent, but one little nugget that unfortunately continues to rise to the surface the deeper I go is this: I used to be a little bit of a judgey asshole pre-kids.

I’ll never be that mom. The one whose kid is throwing a fit in the grocery cart, the one who hands over an iPad at a restaurant, the one who forgets to sign the reading folder, and God forbid, definitely not the one who hooks her child to a–wait for it…toddler leash. 

I admit I hate them–those harness things you buy to keep kids close. I’ve always been more of a stroller girl. Or a baby carrier mama. The leashes always seemed so–I don’t know, animalish.  Not my style.

Pause for side story. In the climbiest of Dash’s climbing days last year, I was looking for a door gate tall enough to keep him from climbing over it so I could at least contain him to a room while I showered. “I bet a pet gate would be tall enough,” I mentioned to my mother-in-law. She got very quiet and then finally spoke up, “Don’t you think that’s a little–I don’t know–inhumane? I mean, I know we have to keep him safe, but I think a cage is going too far.”

“A WHAT?” I asked.

“A pet crate, right?”

“OH MY GOD, COLLEEN! NO! I SAID GATE! A DOOR GATE!”

A good laugh for both of us.

My God-no-not-a-leash mentality was well before my adventurous boy who loves to have two feet on the ground–running, darting, dashing–came along. And before we planned a trip to include hiking near the edge of steep bluffs. So a few weeks ago, simply in attempt to explore my safety options for our hike, I typed, cringing, into the search bar: toddler leash.

Pleasantly surprised, I found adorable critter backpacks–bees and owls and funny little frogs–discretely including a small hook at the bottom and–let’s just call it a removable tail–that, if you so choose, could clip on and hold from an arm’s length.

I bought the bee one and immediately texted my sister to confess: Oh my God I just bought a toddler leash. 

Her reply: ….”you didn’t.” Yes, yes, I did.

We used it this week–just for the hike–and it was perfect. Dash freely explored and climbed the mountains close by my side, and my heart rate maintained a steady calm rate. Win/Win. We just added one rule: You take a picture of the leash, you die.

I still don’t love the harness. But I love my boy and sometimes figuring out what works doesn’t always fit inside the box of what we thought we knew. We unclipped the tail and got a cute backpack out of it…it’s a keeper.

And more mountain adventures in Helen, Georgia:

Anna Ruby Falls was breathtaking, a cool damp uphill hike through the forest with a prize view at the end.

Road Trip Rules: Stop at look-outs. Bring backpacks with tails.

A scenic stop along the Ocoee River:

Grocery Store (this Barbie’s name) gets an outdoor shower.

And always a favorite stop on this trip, downtown Chattanooga:

(Facetiming Daddy from the fountains)

Amen, amen.

…and we just crossed the Michigan state line as I’m finishing typing this. Honk honk honk honk.

We are on our way up to Michigan, and I don’t know what’s more amazing–that the kids have handled the ride so fabulously or that the minivan is still clean. Brett stayed home to work, but he’s receiving a slew of texts–half with pictures of the kids doing fun things and half with pictures of the car and “LOOK! IT’S STILL CLEAN! BE AMAZED.”

Our first stop in Georgia delivered gorgeous weather, a river tubing adventure and some picturesque landscape…

…but first, Babyland General Hospital, brought to you by the I Don’t Know What the Hell portion of the trip.

Somewhere in the mountains of Georgia on our way to Helen, a sign emerges: Babyland General Hospital THIS WAY. It has a Cabbage Patch Kid logo on it, so I did what any other 6-year-old-trapped-in-a-37-year-old’s-body would do. I held up traffic to pull a U-turn.

“We’re going to Babyland, kids. Let’s go see where Cabbage Patch Kids are born.”

“What’s a Cabbage Patch Kid?” Lainey asks. And wherever it is that dolls go to die, Glennis Willamina rolls over in her grave.

“Cabbage Patch Kids were the coolest dolls you could own when Mommy was little. I had one. Her name was Glennis Willamina.”

A side road directs us to a plot of land where we are greeted by giant stone statues of cabbages with baby heads coming out of them–don’t worry, this gets weirder–and an impressive plantation-style structure, the hospital.

And inside? Sweet Jesus. Let’s just say they aren’t kidding around with the whole hospital thing. Nurses wearing scrubs and stethoscopes roam the facility, encouraging you to listen for announcements of “a live birth” and letting you know that all the babies in the nursery are available for adoption. I pick up a doll from one of the many cribs and take a long whiff of its plastic head.

“Oh my God, it smells exactly how I remember.” Sweet baby powder and childhood magic. “This is so weird.”

What’s weirder is watching a live cabbage patch birth at the magic crystal tree where a whole crop of Cabbage Patch Kids are, um…photosynthesizing?

These heads? They move. Yes, move.

A Plus for Imagination, Xavier Roberts. In fact, I’m kind of disappointed Xavier Roberts didn’t marry Lisa Frank because can you imagine their babies? Too magical for this earth to handle, that’s for sure.

When a mother cabbage goes into labor, all are called to the tree to come cheer her on. That’s when my dad calls.

“Can’t talk. At the magic crystal tree. Cabbage is in labor. Head’s crowning. Gotta go.”

There’s an I.V. with green juice. And the nurse sterilizes the cabbage’s–er, “area” and checks to make sure the baby’s not feet first to rule out a “branch delivery.” And everyone has to yell “PUSH! PUSH!” while the nurse buries her arm down a cabbage for much longer than I was comfortable with and finally pulls out a head. Cue clapping. Cue baby’s first immunization of “imaginocilin.” Cue half the crowd tearing up from the magic of it all and half, like me, left in a cloud of WTF.

“That was the weirdest thing that I ever did see,” my friend Ragan says. I’m a little bit stunned. So I react appropriately.

“Kids, get in line. We’re adopting a baby.”

Was it special? Indeed. Should you go to Babyland General if you’re in Cleveland, Georgia? Hell, yes. If not just to see for yourself.

(Lainey, holding her right hand up and saying her adoption pledge before filling out paperwork)

The kids named their new baby Millie Jackie (Glennis Willamina rolls over again), and I have to admit, we’re all in love. “Mom, why do you keep smelling her head?”

She’s the real deal. Cute as a button.

And when we’re not sniffing Millie Jackie’s head, we’re enjoying summer from the Chattahoochee River…

…and Unicoi State Park.

It was Take Your Naked Barbie to Dinner night in Helen, Georgia this week.

Why can’t we just have normal experiences with dolls?

Moral of the Story: The 80’s are alive and well and reside in Cleveland, Georgia. Revisit with caution.

So here’s the real question…do you remember your Cabbage Patch’s name?