Snow Kids
We left the house on Sunday. This is significant because it was our first trip outside the house since Wednesday. Des Moines received a layer of snow and ice combined with high winds on Friday and Saturday. It was bad enough to close the interstates around Des Moines for days. This storm was preceded by apocalyptic blizzard predictions by the media on Thursday and Wednesday, so I along with most of the city was too terrified to leave home for fear that the mighty storm would encase our car in a sheet of ice and windblown snow.
By Sunday, the storm had passed, the winds were tolerable, and the sun was shining strongly enough that I didn’t have to clear my car windows. Most importantly, the kids were driving me nuts after days of weather that made the long walk to the mailbox too treacherous to embark upon. The sheer number of book pages they’d torn would drive anyone insane. So I threw shoes and coats on the kids, started the car to give it a chance to warm the engine juices that had been sitting for five days, and left for the mall.
Despite being homebound for five days, I didn’t need anything. Even in good weather, I never know when I’ll be able to restock our Vital Supplies. Having three young children makes any expedition requiring a shopping cart virtually impossible without adult help. If Ellie has a busy week, I might not have a chance to restock until the weekend. I’m used to keeping a healthy stash of Vital Supplies on hand. I’m limited only by the refrigerator’s space for milk and Ellie’s tolerance for my stacking cereal boxes in the basement.
Even though I didn’t need to do anything, I could easily make up a reason for leaving the house. As a routinely stuck-at-home dad, I’m good at making up reasons to leave home. It may be my only chance for live adult interaction during the day, even if that interaction is limited to curious stares and evil stares demanding that I get my kids under control.
My mall excuse was to return a few things to the store. In a stereotype-confirming dichotomy, Ellie is the shopper in our family, while I’m the saver.* These differences can tear some couples apart, but we’ve come to an agreement that lets us coexist: She gets to buy whatever she wants, and I get to return whatever I want. It’s a win-win situation that gives her the thrill of shopping, and me the thrill of getting a credit put back on the MasterCard.**
I returned the superfluous items, and enjoyed the ensuing credit-fueled endorphin rush. Obviously feeling too giddy for my own good, I then took the kids to the mall playground. This being the first decent day in a while, many other parents had the same idea I did.
The playground was packed with parents and toddlers,*** and I had to struggle to find a place to sit. Not that I had much chance to sit anyway. The kids made a game of moving as far apart as possible, and I had to keep moving to keep them all in my sight simultaneously. With so many children running heedlessly, and my children lacking any sense of self-preservation, I needed to keep an eye on them.
Eventually I discovered that standing next to the exit was best since Abbie and Tory were determined to escape. Abbie at least had the decency to run around for a minute before escaping again; Tory would immediately run back to the exit after I set him down like he was racing me out to the car. Ian was too overwhelmed by the commotion to escape, and spent much of the time crying when I wasn’t holding him because I needed to flip Tory around yet again.
After we all picked up a little exercise, we went back home. I think the kids enjoyed spending time outside the house, and I enjoyed containing them in an environment where they couldn’t break anything.
* Ellie might say “cheapskate.”
** It’s like I’m paying the credit card bill without spending any money!
*** It also had some post-toddler children, like that twerp middle-school girl who thwacked Ian going down the slide. Completely ignoring the fact that she was a half-dozen years too old to be on the playground in the first place, shouldn’t it be obvious by that age that you don’t go down a slide when a baby is standing at the bottom?
By Sunday, the storm had passed, the winds were tolerable, and the sun was shining strongly enough that I didn’t have to clear my car windows. Most importantly, the kids were driving me nuts after days of weather that made the long walk to the mailbox too treacherous to embark upon. The sheer number of book pages they’d torn would drive anyone insane. So I threw shoes and coats on the kids, started the car to give it a chance to warm the engine juices that had been sitting for five days, and left for the mall.
Despite being homebound for five days, I didn’t need anything. Even in good weather, I never know when I’ll be able to restock our Vital Supplies. Having three young children makes any expedition requiring a shopping cart virtually impossible without adult help. If Ellie has a busy week, I might not have a chance to restock until the weekend. I’m used to keeping a healthy stash of Vital Supplies on hand. I’m limited only by the refrigerator’s space for milk and Ellie’s tolerance for my stacking cereal boxes in the basement.
Even though I didn’t need to do anything, I could easily make up a reason for leaving the house. As a routinely stuck-at-home dad, I’m good at making up reasons to leave home. It may be my only chance for live adult interaction during the day, even if that interaction is limited to curious stares and evil stares demanding that I get my kids under control.
My mall excuse was to return a few things to the store. In a stereotype-confirming dichotomy, Ellie is the shopper in our family, while I’m the saver.* These differences can tear some couples apart, but we’ve come to an agreement that lets us coexist: She gets to buy whatever she wants, and I get to return whatever I want. It’s a win-win situation that gives her the thrill of shopping, and me the thrill of getting a credit put back on the MasterCard.**
I returned the superfluous items, and enjoyed the ensuing credit-fueled endorphin rush. Obviously feeling too giddy for my own good, I then took the kids to the mall playground. This being the first decent day in a while, many other parents had the same idea I did.
The playground was packed with parents and toddlers,*** and I had to struggle to find a place to sit. Not that I had much chance to sit anyway. The kids made a game of moving as far apart as possible, and I had to keep moving to keep them all in my sight simultaneously. With so many children running heedlessly, and my children lacking any sense of self-preservation, I needed to keep an eye on them.
Eventually I discovered that standing next to the exit was best since Abbie and Tory were determined to escape. Abbie at least had the decency to run around for a minute before escaping again; Tory would immediately run back to the exit after I set him down like he was racing me out to the car. Ian was too overwhelmed by the commotion to escape, and spent much of the time crying when I wasn’t holding him because I needed to flip Tory around yet again.
After we all picked up a little exercise, we went back home. I think the kids enjoyed spending time outside the house, and I enjoyed containing them in an environment where they couldn’t break anything.
* Ellie might say “cheapskate.”
** It’s like I’m paying the credit card bill without spending any money!
*** It also had some post-toddler children, like that twerp middle-school girl who thwacked Ian going down the slide. Completely ignoring the fact that she was a half-dozen years too old to be on the playground in the first place, shouldn’t it be obvious by that age that you don’t go down a slide when a baby is standing at the bottom?
posted by Matt at
11:33 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home