Afternoon Delight
The minute DaycareKid's mom picked him up, I herded the neighborhood boys out the door and loaded my kids up in the car and drove them directly to McDonald's. Thus, marginally nourished, I drove to the beach where we spent the next two hours.
I just want to know--why, oh why, do I have children who are fixated on swings? My older boys (you know, the adopted ones who are on the lower tier of my affection) hated swings. They would freak out if I pushed them too high. YoungestBoy has always adored swinging and tonight, Babygirl fully embraced the whole swinging experience for the first time. Her hand muscles are probably going to be sore tomorrow morning when she wakes up because she spent close to an hour clutching the metal links while clamoring "more swing! more swing!".
Why are so many motherhood activities so mind-numbingly boring? I mean, pushing her on the swing for fifteen minutes--perfect! Half an hour? Uh, I'm losing interest and I'd like to sprawl out on the lawn and watch the sunlight shimmering on the Puget Sound. A whole hour? Puh-lease. Boring, boring, boring, boring, boring. Of course, I put on my Good Mother face and push and then tickle her when she swings close to me again and I do all this while trying to keep an eye on my boys who have joined in with another boy in making water balloons.
Anyway, first she did slide for awhile. Then the swings. Then we all went down to the edge of the beach and the boys waded in--YoungestBoy went to his waist and then lost his flip-flops and then sort of plunged in to swim after them, giving me heart palpitations. Babygirl would have nothing to do with the waves as they splashed on the rocky shore. She climbed the retaining wall, saying, "Swing. Swing." She would not be deterred, so I made the boys come back up to the swingset, which is when they found the Water Balloon Kid. Then I was stuck pushing the swing for an hour. Or so.
We bribed her out of the park with a promise of ice cream. At first, she said, "no," but all of the sudden, she said, "Okay. Fast!" and she started to run. She ran all the way up the wide walking path, all the way across the railroad tracks, all the way up the hill to the parking lot and then all the way across the parking lot to the car. I think she will run marathons when she grows up.
We went to McDonald's again for ice cream. I know. There goes my Mother of the Year award.
By the time we returned home, it was almost 8:00 p.m., her bed-time. The boys will be going to bed in minutes and finally--Mom is Still a Grown-up Time begins!
By the way, I noticed a couple of days ago that Babygirl's hair is exactly the color of a dead lawn. Just in case you were wondering.
I just want to know--why, oh why, do I have children who are fixated on swings? My older boys (you know, the adopted ones who are on the lower tier of my affection) hated swings. They would freak out if I pushed them too high. YoungestBoy has always adored swinging and tonight, Babygirl fully embraced the whole swinging experience for the first time. Her hand muscles are probably going to be sore tomorrow morning when she wakes up because she spent close to an hour clutching the metal links while clamoring "more swing! more swing!".
Why are so many motherhood activities so mind-numbingly boring? I mean, pushing her on the swing for fifteen minutes--perfect! Half an hour? Uh, I'm losing interest and I'd like to sprawl out on the lawn and watch the sunlight shimmering on the Puget Sound. A whole hour? Puh-lease. Boring, boring, boring, boring, boring. Of course, I put on my Good Mother face and push and then tickle her when she swings close to me again and I do all this while trying to keep an eye on my boys who have joined in with another boy in making water balloons.
Anyway, first she did slide for awhile. Then the swings. Then we all went down to the edge of the beach and the boys waded in--YoungestBoy went to his waist and then lost his flip-flops and then sort of plunged in to swim after them, giving me heart palpitations. Babygirl would have nothing to do with the waves as they splashed on the rocky shore. She climbed the retaining wall, saying, "Swing. Swing." She would not be deterred, so I made the boys come back up to the swingset, which is when they found the Water Balloon Kid. Then I was stuck pushing the swing for an hour. Or so.
We bribed her out of the park with a promise of ice cream. At first, she said, "no," but all of the sudden, she said, "Okay. Fast!" and she started to run. She ran all the way up the wide walking path, all the way across the railroad tracks, all the way up the hill to the parking lot and then all the way across the parking lot to the car. I think she will run marathons when she grows up.
We went to McDonald's again for ice cream. I know. There goes my Mother of the Year award.
By the time we returned home, it was almost 8:00 p.m., her bed-time. The boys will be going to bed in minutes and finally--Mom is Still a Grown-up Time begins!
By the way, I noticed a couple of days ago that Babygirl's hair is exactly the color of a dead lawn. Just in case you were wondering.
posted by Melodee at Monday, July 19, 2004
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