You Don't Bring Me to the Playground Anymore
I used to take Abbie to the mall playground regularly, even making special stops at the mall solely to let Abbie play. It let Abbie run around and be a toddler without the possibility that she could break or ingest anything. It provided her a rare social opportunity with her peers. It gave me an excuse to leave the house, something I could always use.
I stopped taking Abbie to the playground about the time her brothers came home.* Much like every other group activity, it was too hard to drag the kids out of the house, supervise them, and return home in time for naps. I just quit going, opting instead for quality time in the backyard. If she ever remembers life before the twins, she’ll be pretty ticked off when she realizes all the fun she has to miss because of them.
Yesterday was one of our rare visits to the mall playground in the past two years. Mommy had the day off, we were in the area anyway, so we decided to stop. The kids could have fun playing, mommy could look at a few stores, and daddy could pick up a couple slices of cheesecake on the way out. What could go wrong?
Seconds after I sent mommy off to the nearest store, Tory filled his diaper, so there’s one thing to go wrong. Their guts are still making them poop several times a day, so I should know that poop is always eminent. I should also ensure that my children eat a healthy, well-balanced diet instead of giving them a bag of chips to fight over when I need a break, but I don’t do that either. Without mommy nearby to tag team on the childcare, I couldn’t sneak off to the bathroom to change him. Instead I just supervised everyone, hoping his diaper didn’t leak. I also hoped the smell didn’t waft to any parents who might think me inadequate, or to any of his peers who might therefore ostracize him for life for pooping his pants that one day.
I immediately handed Tory to mommy when she returned. She changed his diaper, and brought him back to us smelling considerably better. We bid her goodbye again as she walked to the next store, with Ian pooping on cue as soon as she disappeared from view.
Abbie to her credit was never poopy except in her attitude. She had fun playing on the equipment for a few minutes. Then she had fun shoving her brothers for a few minutes.* Finally, she had fun trying to run out of the playground.
She obviously wanted to leave, and I wanted to take her home. We needed to wait for mommy’s return, though, and my promises that she was almost here wore thin after a few minutes. She started throwing a fit to convey her point, complete with screaming and removal of her pants for added emphasis.
When mommy returned, Abbie was in tears. I wasn’t quite in tears yet. Ian had hit the point of trying to run out of the playground. Tory was having fun on the equipment, so good for him.
I bought cheesecake while mommy loaded the car. Nothing could go wrong there, except I accidentally bought mommy the wrong flavor of cheesecake. While I ate my cheesecake laced with guilt, it further reminded me of why we don’t do this anymore.
* I was proud of the anonymous 4-year-old boy who shoved her back in retaliation for her shoving a brother.
I stopped taking Abbie to the playground about the time her brothers came home.* Much like every other group activity, it was too hard to drag the kids out of the house, supervise them, and return home in time for naps. I just quit going, opting instead for quality time in the backyard. If she ever remembers life before the twins, she’ll be pretty ticked off when she realizes all the fun she has to miss because of them.
Yesterday was one of our rare visits to the mall playground in the past two years. Mommy had the day off, we were in the area anyway, so we decided to stop. The kids could have fun playing, mommy could look at a few stores, and daddy could pick up a couple slices of cheesecake on the way out. What could go wrong?
Seconds after I sent mommy off to the nearest store, Tory filled his diaper, so there’s one thing to go wrong. Their guts are still making them poop several times a day, so I should know that poop is always eminent. I should also ensure that my children eat a healthy, well-balanced diet instead of giving them a bag of chips to fight over when I need a break, but I don’t do that either. Without mommy nearby to tag team on the childcare, I couldn’t sneak off to the bathroom to change him. Instead I just supervised everyone, hoping his diaper didn’t leak. I also hoped the smell didn’t waft to any parents who might think me inadequate, or to any of his peers who might therefore ostracize him for life for pooping his pants that one day.
I immediately handed Tory to mommy when she returned. She changed his diaper, and brought him back to us smelling considerably better. We bid her goodbye again as she walked to the next store, with Ian pooping on cue as soon as she disappeared from view.
Abbie to her credit was never poopy except in her attitude. She had fun playing on the equipment for a few minutes. Then she had fun shoving her brothers for a few minutes.* Finally, she had fun trying to run out of the playground.
She obviously wanted to leave, and I wanted to take her home. We needed to wait for mommy’s return, though, and my promises that she was almost here wore thin after a few minutes. She started throwing a fit to convey her point, complete with screaming and removal of her pants for added emphasis.
When mommy returned, Abbie was in tears. I wasn’t quite in tears yet. Ian had hit the point of trying to run out of the playground. Tory was having fun on the equipment, so good for him.
I bought cheesecake while mommy loaded the car. Nothing could go wrong there, except I accidentally bought mommy the wrong flavor of cheesecake. While I ate my cheesecake laced with guilt, it further reminded me of why we don’t do this anymore.
* I was proud of the anonymous 4-year-old boy who shoved her back in retaliation for her shoving a brother.
posted by Matt at
11:33 PM
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