.: All's fair in family day at the fair

Anytime I go to the Minnesota State Fair, I make sure upon entering the fair gates to get a good look at the people leaving the fairgrounds. They're clammy, bloated from deep-fried batter and fresh malts, tired, dragging their feet and all but guaranteed to be pushing a stroller packed with schlocky trinkets or oversized purple stuffed animals and either a sleeping child or a wailing child that hit meltdown stage somewhere between the sheep barn and the midway.
It never fails; there always is one of those families wandering out of the fair gates.
This year I thought that might be us.
Colin was three weeks old last week, which meant it was the perfect time to take him and a toddler to their first state fair, that massive cauldron of pronto pups, charred meat on a stick and sweaty, pasty humanity.
We decided to make it a family trip, knowing full well it could end in complete disaster, with a screaming newborn who needed to be fed while we peeled a tantruming toddler off the sidewalk.
It ended up to be a surprisingly enjoyable outing, which proved once again that if you plan for the worst, it might end up being not the worst time you've ever had.
We started early, which might have been our smartest decision of the day. You hit the fair early when the crowds are easier for a toddler to navigate and the mini-donut oil is still fresh.
Elise had a good time and was a phenomenal toddler. We were there over four hours and she walked at least half of the time. Slowly and, at times, seemingly without purpose, but she hoofed it up and down Dan Patch and Judson like it was no big deal.
One of Elise's highlights was the main attraction in the horticulture building. Leave it to the suburban gardeners' kid to be enthralled not with the children's amusement park but with the display of prize-winning fruits and vegetables. She was so excited that she just walked right under the guard ropes and nearly picked up somebody's first-place green beans. And she got up close and personal with the giant pumpkins, in one case almost removing the blue ribbon stuck to the side. The girl digs her garden produce. (True story: After donuts, strawberries and cream, a pronto pup and some root beer, she wanted to sit in the stroller and eat the container of peas that Anni had packed from home as a just-in-case snack.)
Colin, well, he didn't see much at the fair. He mostly slept, alternating between the stroller and the carrier that Anni uses. We nearly were a fair attraction ourselves, as people continuously walked by and quietly nudged fellow fairgoers to point out the tiny baby that Anni had in the sling.
We did not make it to the all-you-can-drink milk booth this year, but Colin did. In fact, in an apropos episode, Anni fed Colin while sitting right outside the Miracle of Life barn, where you can watch farm animals give birth and feed their offspring.
After more than four hours of the fair, we decided it was time to head home when we looked down to see Elise zonked out in the stroller with a piece of fresh string cheese hanging from her lips. She had fallen asleep mid-chew.
Thankfully, we left the fairgrounds content, not exhausted and disheveled.

The morning started at the "little farmhands" exhibit, where kids can pretend to work the farm, from riding tractors to feeding (fake) chickens.

Then it was on to the real tractors at Machinery Hill, or at least the one remaining tractor dealer at the corner of the fairgrounds that used to feature a plethora of farm implements.

My parents have a picture of Bryan and I sitting in a tractor wheel when we were probably 3 and 5. This was an attempt to recreate that. We'll try again in a couple of years when Elise has a little brother to share the wheel with.

This is a shot of Colin's exciting day at the fair.

The women and the wheels.

We wanted to attempt to take Elise on the Giant Slide, but did not know whether she would embrace the ride or run the other way. (Remember, we ruined the carousel experience a few weeks ago by trying to take a tired toddler on a loud zoo carousel.) We barely arrived at the bottom of the slide and Elise was trying to run to the entrance. I took her down the slide twice; she had a ball.