Sunday morning my husband rolled over and whispered some sweet, sweet nothings in my ear, “I just want to sit calmly with you over a cup of coffee.”
I swooned at his amorous words, “Me too.”
We then looked at each other, got up and wordlessly split duty, each wrangling one fussy child into their church clothes. Over a leisurely breakfast of repetitive screams to not spill milk, it became very apparent that we would have to table our coffee date. Until about 2029. The estimated year that my daughter might leave for college.
This theme of tabling stuff until the kids get older has come up a lot recently. The thing is, it didn’t occur to me until last week that I wouldn’t actually be able to physically take progressive steps until my children were older. I know, silly ignorant newbie mom…
We had some dear friends visiting one day, and much in need of a little exercise, we decided to trek down to the park.
The fact that we can walk to our local park is one of my favorite things about our house. For years, it worked out super. I threw the kids in the stroller and off we rolled. When they were very young we went to just spin around for fresh air. When they were older, we crawled around the playground equipment while Mommy madly snapped pictures until someone fell and began sobbing.
The good old days…
I was going to be smart this time. The week prior I had gotten burned carrying three bikes, multiple helmets, and one scooter up a very large hill while my kids and their friend gleefully ran ahead. The extensive bruising on my shins still hasn’t forgiven me. I won’t be able to wear a mini dress without raising alarms of abuse until mid-summer. Never again.
This time, Mommy was smart. She pulled out the wagon. Told each child they could pick one scooter and would have to walk the entire way to the park.
My daughter promptly sat down in the wagon and refused to move.
No sweat; we could still get this thing. Undaunted, I threw her scooter in the front of the wagon and took off. We covered at least a dozen steps and all appeared to be working out extremely well–until it occurred to me that two of the children in my care were nearly out of yelling range–in opposite directions. I panicked a little, ran in circles herding everyone back together, and then we were back on track.
We pressed on further, threw several temper tantrums, and incurred more bruising of various type.
The sum total progress of our efforts at this point? A half block. I wrote a long time ago about the sheer difficulty of trying to get further than the end of my driveway with a baby and a toddler. What I didn’t know is that several heavier-than-you-think tricycles and children who can walk later, I would be longing for those baby days.
As it stands now, I am firmly anticipating getting at least halfway to the park by July. Momentous forward progress is, for now, tabled. In the meantime, I looked over at my friend, and said the most-true truth of motherhood, “I need a drink.”
Better make it a double?
Latest posts by Meredith (see all)
- Under the Whispering Door Book Club Discussion - December 3, 2021
- The Perfect Hershey Weekend for Your Family - December 2, 2021
- The 3 Best Tips To Fill A New House When You’ve Upsized - November 30, 2021