this was last summer when the weather was still nice. kyler could play at the park for hours and hours if allowed. i've decided that playdates can be really fun, but most of the time they are just plain exhausting. it's supposed to be fun to go to the park with all your kid's little friends, but it really can be the most stressful part of the day. you have to make sure that your kid looks cute; he's happy and rested and fed; clean diaper or at least that he went potty before you leave; make sure you have snacks and drinks (enough for the other kid as well, so that no one feels left out because they didn't get rocket fruit snacks too)- and then finally, you get to the park and let the kids loose. suddenly, you're at a crossroads- do you let him play on the playground that is too big for him (where all of his little friends are playing), the swings that are scorching hot, or the sandbox that... well, we should all have our reservations about uncovered, public sandboxes. he wants to climb up the lilypad ladder, up the ro
pe ladder, up the steps that are as tall as him- he'd climb up the slide if he wasn't wearing those ridiculously cute flip-flops. so you choose the ladder that is most easily accessible to you, the rescuer. you stand close by, (all the while keeping a watchful eye for those older kids that knock all the babies down without regard) and he steps up on the first step! and the next one, and the next one, until he is nearly to the platform! as you awkwardly bend your arms around metal poles to try and keep one hand on you child, here comes the blue power ranger, ultra-mega-force blaster gun blazing, pushing past you and your much younger little angel, jumps off of the lilypad ladder and, amidst a flurry of imaginary gunfire directed toward an unseen alien force, scampers off. by the time you done stari
ng after the power ranger, your son has already finished climbing to the top of the play structure and is gearing up to go down the giant slide of terror. you panic slightly, knowing that if you run to the top to stop him, he will smile and scooch closer to the edge- but if you wait for him at the bottom, he might bonk his head or get scared. on the other hand, there is no way you butt will fit down that slide anyway, so you opt for the latter choice and dare to take your chances. you walk to the bottom of the slide and tell him to go- you'll catch him. he holds on, and with a slightly nervous look on his face (that is nothing compared to your pounding heart) he slides down, down, down into your arms, giggling all the way. no harm, no foul- just a very happy, yet very tired little man. you signal to the other mothers that you've had your fill, pack up your things and head to the car thinking, "that was fun! i can't wait until next tuesday!"
this was last summer when the weather was still nice. kyler could play at the park for hours and hours if allowed. i've decided that playdates can be really fun, but most of the time they are just plain exhausting. it's supposed to be fun to go to the park with all your kid's little friends, but it really can be the most stressful part of the day. you have to make sure that your kid looks cute; he's happy and rested and fed; clean diaper or at least that he went potty before you leave; make sure you have snacks and drinks (enough for the other kid as well, so that no one feels left out because they didn't get rocket fruit snacks too)- and then finally, you get to the park and let the kids loose. suddenly, you're at a crossroads- do you let him play on the playground that is too big for him (where all of his little friends are playing), the swings that are scorching hot, or the sandbox that... well, we should all have our reservations about uncovered, public sandboxes. he wants to climb up the lilypad ladder, up the ro
pe ladder, up the steps that are as tall as him- he'd climb up the slide if he wasn't wearing those ridiculously cute flip-flops. so you choose the ladder that is most easily accessible to you, the rescuer. you stand close by, (all the while keeping a watchful eye for those older kids that knock all the babies down without regard) and he steps up on the first step! and the next one, and the next one, until he is nearly to the platform! as you awkwardly bend your arms around metal poles to try and keep one hand on you child, here comes the blue power ranger, ultra-mega-force blaster gun blazing, pushing past you and your much younger little angel, jumps off of the lilypad ladder and, amidst a flurry of imaginary gunfire directed toward an unseen alien force, scampers off. by the time you done stari
ng after the power ranger, your son has already finished climbing to the top of the play structure and is gearing up to go down the giant slide of terror. you panic slightly, knowing that if you run to the top to stop him, he will smile and scooch closer to the edge- but if you wait for him at the bottom, he might bonk his head or get scared. on the other hand, there is no way you butt will fit down that slide anyway, so you opt for the latter choice and dare to take your chances. you walk to the bottom of the slide and tell him to go- you'll catch him. he holds on, and with a slightly nervous look on his face (that is nothing compared to your pounding heart) he slides down, down, down into your arms, giggling all the way. no harm, no foul- just a very happy, yet very tired little man. you signal to the other mothers that you've had your fill, pack up your things and head to the car thinking, "that was fun! i can't wait until next tuesday!"
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