The Great Outdoors
Temperatures in Des Moines soared into the 60’s yesterday. The winter glaciers receded and I could finally navigate the curbside path to my car without needing the expeditionary skills of Amundson. More importantly, I could finally take the kids outside to play.
When Abbie was my only child, we went out to play at least occasionally even during the winter months. That didn’t happen this year. The kids have been stuck inside all winter long, save those treks along the packed-in tundra to and from the car.
I don’t remember the last time I took the kids outside to play, though I’m sure there’s a blog post about it if I want a refresher. Part of the reason for that is we suffered through a brutally cold February. When it finally warmed to tolerably cold, snow and ice fell from the sky, adding “messy” to the list of reason I didn’t want to go out.
I can hover over one young child, as I did when Abbie was my only responsibility, saving her from the world’s perils such as falling off the stairs or staining those new pants mama bought for her. But as the boys remind me on an almost hourly basis, I can only stand by and watch when charged with two children and hope nobody ingests anything instantly lethal. Never mind that I still have a toddler to watch and make sure she doesn’t climb above bone-bruising heights in case she falls.
With that in mind, I looked outside, pondering how best to let them enjoy the fresh air. Our backyard was a mixture of standing water, mud pits, and stubborn glaciers. I didn’t want to deal with wet clothes, and decided against taking them out back. I wanted to deal with screaming children even less, but that’s exactly what Tory was doing as he banged on the screen door, furious that the only thing standing between him and escape was a cheap layer of aluminum.
I looked out the front, and found that more acceptable. We have a large concrete parking lot in front of our home. The snow had disappeared from the lot days ago, leaving it clean and dry except for the streams of snowmelt draining along the sides.
I decided to take the kids into the parking lot. Sure, we might have to dodge a few cars, but at least there’s no mud. The lot is closed off with one entrance anyway, so I could see any approaching cars long before they posed a threat and shoo my beloved children off to the sides.
I slapped shoes and socks on everyone, gave Abbie a ball to roll, and sent them out the door. The first thing they did was scatter across the lot like particles from a recently smashed atom, except that quarks and leptons would’ve been easier to catch. Abbie had thrown her ball and was chasing it in one direction. Ian ran for a snow bank on the opposite end of the lot. Tory ran for the gate connecting to the street.
I grabbed Tory first since he was in the most danger unless Abbie developed a severe case of road rash falling after her ball. By the time I carried him to Ian, he was elbow deep in snow and sand. Meanwhile, Abbie kept running farther away as her ball rolled with the lot’s natural drainage slope.
I hauled the boys far down the lot to catch up with Abbie, eventually finding her in a drainage ditch. She was standing in ankle-deep runoff, partially to retrieve her ball, but mostly to experience the thrill of standing in ankle-deep runoff. By the time I pulled Abbie and the ball out of the stream, both boys were playing in the water, walking in it, splashing in it, and falling down in it.
I spent the next several minutes vainly trying to herd the children back to the house. My commands were no match for running water’s allure. Eventually I gave up, picked up both boys, and kicked the ball back to the house for Abbie to chase. When we made it back inside, the boys were soaked, my shirt was soaked from carrying them, and Abbie was tracking water across the floor.
That’s when I took everyone in the backyard. Everyone was already wet, plus I wouldn’t have to worry about cars. I didn’t want to deal with Tory banging on the door to go back out anyway.
When Abbie was my only child, we went out to play at least occasionally even during the winter months. That didn’t happen this year. The kids have been stuck inside all winter long, save those treks along the packed-in tundra to and from the car.
I don’t remember the last time I took the kids outside to play, though I’m sure there’s a blog post about it if I want a refresher. Part of the reason for that is we suffered through a brutally cold February. When it finally warmed to tolerably cold, snow and ice fell from the sky, adding “messy” to the list of reason I didn’t want to go out.
I can hover over one young child, as I did when Abbie was my only responsibility, saving her from the world’s perils such as falling off the stairs or staining those new pants mama bought for her. But as the boys remind me on an almost hourly basis, I can only stand by and watch when charged with two children and hope nobody ingests anything instantly lethal. Never mind that I still have a toddler to watch and make sure she doesn’t climb above bone-bruising heights in case she falls.
With that in mind, I looked outside, pondering how best to let them enjoy the fresh air. Our backyard was a mixture of standing water, mud pits, and stubborn glaciers. I didn’t want to deal with wet clothes, and decided against taking them out back. I wanted to deal with screaming children even less, but that’s exactly what Tory was doing as he banged on the screen door, furious that the only thing standing between him and escape was a cheap layer of aluminum.
I looked out the front, and found that more acceptable. We have a large concrete parking lot in front of our home. The snow had disappeared from the lot days ago, leaving it clean and dry except for the streams of snowmelt draining along the sides.
I decided to take the kids into the parking lot. Sure, we might have to dodge a few cars, but at least there’s no mud. The lot is closed off with one entrance anyway, so I could see any approaching cars long before they posed a threat and shoo my beloved children off to the sides.
I slapped shoes and socks on everyone, gave Abbie a ball to roll, and sent them out the door. The first thing they did was scatter across the lot like particles from a recently smashed atom, except that quarks and leptons would’ve been easier to catch. Abbie had thrown her ball and was chasing it in one direction. Ian ran for a snow bank on the opposite end of the lot. Tory ran for the gate connecting to the street.
I grabbed Tory first since he was in the most danger unless Abbie developed a severe case of road rash falling after her ball. By the time I carried him to Ian, he was elbow deep in snow and sand. Meanwhile, Abbie kept running farther away as her ball rolled with the lot’s natural drainage slope.
I hauled the boys far down the lot to catch up with Abbie, eventually finding her in a drainage ditch. She was standing in ankle-deep runoff, partially to retrieve her ball, but mostly to experience the thrill of standing in ankle-deep runoff. By the time I pulled Abbie and the ball out of the stream, both boys were playing in the water, walking in it, splashing in it, and falling down in it.
I spent the next several minutes vainly trying to herd the children back to the house. My commands were no match for running water’s allure. Eventually I gave up, picked up both boys, and kicked the ball back to the house for Abbie to chase. When we made it back inside, the boys were soaked, my shirt was soaked from carrying them, and Abbie was tracking water across the floor.
That’s when I took everyone in the backyard. Everyone was already wet, plus I wouldn’t have to worry about cars. I didn’t want to deal with Tory banging on the door to go back out anyway.
posted by Matt at
11:27 PM
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