Sometimes you’ve just gotta pick up what the universe is laying down, you know?
And sometimes it takes a blinking neon sign to the face to get me to realize that I’m being a little, well, crazy.
Case in point: The other morning I woke up and thought, “Jeez, there’s a week and a half left of summer vacation. I really need to finish the items on the bucket list I promised everyone we would not be keeping this summer.” On that list? Picnic at the lesser of our two neighborhood parks. Nevermind the fact that we’d picnicked at our favorite park oodles of times this season- or that there was a very good reason it was the lesser of our nearby parks- I had written it on an app and we needed some whimsical out-of-doors time.
The first hurdle was that my kids were playing quietly- and happily- when I attempted to round them up. I disregarded that as I sun-screened, dressed, and shooed them out the door. (It’s like I’m new.) General questions like “Mom, can we not do this?” were roundly ignored.
Hurdle #2: Once I got the double stroller (with kick board) loaded up with park stuff, lunch stuff, and actual children, Nora helpfully pointed out that the back two tires were flat. Like, beyond flat. Beyond inverting the rubber back onto the wheel spokes flat. So I unloaded the stroller and pumped the tires. After 20 minutes of tire-pumping, I came to the cheerful conclusion that the problem wasn’t the flat tires so much as it was the holes in the flat tires. HA!
Third hurdle. (Thirdle?) I plopped 2 of the kids onto a sit/stand/ride Radio Flyer trike and instructed the third to scoot on her scooter behind us/next to us/I don’t even care anymore, it’s like 4pm by this point. With Jasper strapped into the trike seat and Susannah standing behind him (and me wearily shoving via the handle), it took Nora two houses before she declared that she just wasn’t “feeling the scooter” anymore. It didn’t seem to be working. She thought she might fall off. And after Zu scornfully said that Nora wasn’t “doing it right,” I kicked them each off of their various rides and ordered them to switch. Susannah fell off her scooter roughly 3/4 of the way down our block. (For those playing along at home, that’s four houses away from my own. I could’ve thrown them there. I wanted to throw them there.)
Thirdle and a half: A block and a half later, no one was riding the scooter. I was carrying the scooter. Suzy was walking, Nora was dragging her feet off of the riding part of the trike, and Jasper was not having the front of the trike any longer (as evidenced by his habit of tucking his feet all the way back and scraping his shoes on the sidewalk).
I don’t know why we didn’t turn back. Honestly, by that point we had been gone so long that I wasn’t even sure I had a home to return to.
Finally, we got to the park. And no one wanted to eat lunch. And no one wanted to go on the swings. Except- maybe that one. By herself. But I need to be the pusher.
Three of my kids in one picture. Success! (There were five “smiling” moments that day. Here is one.)
Twenty minutes later, we headed home- because we were already way late for Jasper’s nap, and he was showing his exhausted displeasure by keening and back-bending out of my arms.
The trip home looked like this: Jasper- screaming- strapped into the front. Susannah- whining- standing sideways on the back of the riding platform (sporadically smashing the foot brake or the back tire “just to try something out”). Nora, wearing one of the bags, walked a few feet behind me. (I’m sure she wasn’t happy, but she’s a pretty savvy girl. When Mom’s Feeling Feelings, we keep our ennui to ourselves.)
Way too long later, we were home. Jasper was asleep. And Nora and Suzy were settled at the kitchen table with coloring books and the kind of road-weary exhaustion that comes from Lewis & Clark-esque expeditions.
There’s a lesson in here, I’m sure of it. Like- let the status quo be the status quo, especially if the status quo is “children doing their own thing, quit it with the Hallmark moments.” Or- There’s no prize for making things harder for yourself in the name of ambitious parenting. (Especially not from other parents, a few of whom definitely snickered at me YOU JERKS.) And even- Sometimes you need to open your eyes and be aware of your day. If you’re running into major difficulty for relatively simple endeavors, it’s probably not meant to be.
And that’s okay.
And I should totally get those stroller tires looked at.
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