(There were more, I just couldn't fit them all in discreetly...the brigade was always on the look out.)
Our first official park day of the year.
Our weather is changing ever so slowly, but changing nonetheless. We've been cooped up way too long and it's funny, but I had forgotten that we could leave the house/yard to play outside, like at parks (duh). Armed with snacks, camera, and coats we ventured the six miles to the nearest park.
Annie hit the swings first, Lincoln hit the puddles (we're not surprised). I could see a real change in the kids, rediscovering the joy of outdoor play, fresh air, endless expanse of grass. I inhaled a little deeper myself (funny, that sounds like a reference to pot, or something, but you know me better than that).
here comes the stroller brigade! No doubt, it seemed like a gazillion strollers coming straight for us. I felt cramped just watching them make their way across the grass, like I should find another park, or something. They park it. Out pour 20 kids (probably an exaggeration) and every one starts to cry. It's an Infant/toddler attack. Some fall down, some can't climb up and want to, some hit their heads...it's all so sad and comical at the same time. We were once so peaceful, now we're under attack!
I held my breath because this seemed like a classic moment for Lincoln to turn into a bully, you know, finally the bigger kid. I could just see in my mind all the mama-bear syndromes pouring out of those single-child mothers, and all fingers pointing at Lincoln. They're following their baby's every step, hands ready to catch and soothe. I remember being like that. It's funny how we mellow. Thankfully, only peaceful energy emanated from my little ones. No bullying the stroller brigade.
It felt so good to be outside today. I could almost touch those summertime memories shoved way back in my brain because it was too painful to recall something I couldn't have. Come on, little Idaho, warm up...you can do it.