1:40 PM. Decide to go for an outing due to a)restlessness, b)weather that is gorgeous but too cool for our original plan of a beach trip, and c)to wear out the toddler who is rattling the bars of his crib after a notnap. Choose a new park that we've never been to together and don't know exactly where it is.
2:00 PM. Everyone who wears such things has diapers and shoes, the diaper bag has full water bottles and emergency Cheerios, and Lady Infant is buckled into her bucket. Persuade Mr. Husband to take both kids to the car so I can sneak a snack and not share it with Sir Toddler before I lock up.
2:10 PM. Comment on the odd route weaving through back roads that Siri has chosen.
2:40 PM. Comment that we could have taken more familiar main roads in the same amount of time, and how strange that this park is accessible by such small neighborhood roads. This is done over the background noise of Lady Infant fussing and Sir Toddler repeatedly requesting that we get out of the car and go for a walk.
2:43 PM. Siri is directing us to park on a neighborhood street and walk through someone's backyard to access a distant border of this park. WHAT. Reference Google Maps on Mr. Husband's phone, since the navigation has sucked my phone's battery dry.
2:50 PM. Finally pull up to the parking lot of the park and discover that the parking fee is per person, rather than per car. Well, we've come this far...at least the kids are free.
2:52 PM. Discover the source of Lady Infant's distress: a diaper bomb that has ruined her adorable outfit. An awkward diaper change in the front passenger seat ensues.* The spare outfit is a little skimpy for the weather, but at least it's the correct size. This time.
2:53 PM. Briefly debate the merits of the double stroller versus making the toddler walk. The notnap that preceded this trip makes the decision for us, even though it means stopping to pick up every stick and leaf we came across.
3:55 PM. Buckle everyone back into the chariot, drive home, and send Mr. Husband around the corner on an urgent errand while I make dinner.
*Although it is always awful trying to do diaper changes in the front passenger seat (our compact sedan has few options now that the backseat is taken up entirely by car seats), at least it wasn't as bad as an ill-fated grocery trip wherein Lady Infant's diaper and outfit were changed into a completely outgrown long-sleeve onesie (on an 80 degree day) while Sir Toddler cried a river in the back seat about wanting to ride in the police car grocery cart. Naturally, once he was loaded into said grocery cart and Lady Infant strapped to my torso, he spotted the taxi grocery cart. There is nothing quite so glorious as an unaccompanied trip to the grocery store.
2:00 PM. Everyone who wears such things has diapers and shoes, the diaper bag has full water bottles and emergency Cheerios, and Lady Infant is buckled into her bucket. Persuade Mr. Husband to take both kids to the car so I can sneak a snack and not share it with Sir Toddler before I lock up.
2:10 PM. Comment on the odd route weaving through back roads that Siri has chosen.
2:40 PM. Comment that we could have taken more familiar main roads in the same amount of time, and how strange that this park is accessible by such small neighborhood roads. This is done over the background noise of Lady Infant fussing and Sir Toddler repeatedly requesting that we get out of the car and go for a walk.
2:43 PM. Siri is directing us to park on a neighborhood street and walk through someone's backyard to access a distant border of this park. WHAT. Reference Google Maps on Mr. Husband's phone, since the navigation has sucked my phone's battery dry.
2:50 PM. Finally pull up to the parking lot of the park and discover that the parking fee is per person, rather than per car. Well, we've come this far...at least the kids are free.
2:52 PM. Discover the source of Lady Infant's distress: a diaper bomb that has ruined her adorable outfit. An awkward diaper change in the front passenger seat ensues.* The spare outfit is a little skimpy for the weather, but at least it's the correct size. This time.
2:53 PM. Briefly debate the merits of the double stroller versus making the toddler walk. The notnap that preceded this trip makes the decision for us, even though it means stopping to pick up every stick and leaf we came across.
(I've been told that babies should be worn high and tight, but please show me a structured (buckles please!) baby carrier that can be worn so by a 5'2" mother whose six-month-old is in the 70th percentile for length. She didn't get it from me.)
Sir Toddler was rewarded by one of his favorite sights, "Giant fan!"
The view wasn't too bad.
Not pictured: the mystery dead fish thing Mr. Husband found on the shore and insisted on investigating and photographing while Sir Toddler poked it with a stick. Gross. Lady Infant and I stood upwind of it and averted our eyes.
Success: Sir Toddler is tuckered out!
Post-hiking relaxation in a glass.
*Although it is always awful trying to do diaper changes in the front passenger seat (our compact sedan has few options now that the backseat is taken up entirely by car seats), at least it wasn't as bad as an ill-fated grocery trip wherein Lady Infant's diaper and outfit were changed into a completely outgrown long-sleeve onesie (on an 80 degree day) while Sir Toddler cried a river in the back seat about wanting to ride in the police car grocery cart. Naturally, once he was loaded into said grocery cart and Lady Infant strapped to my torso, he spotted the taxi grocery cart. There is nothing quite so glorious as an unaccompanied trip to the grocery store.
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ReplyDeleteIt was a pretty cool pile of bones, I must say. Me and Toddler enjoyed poking it with sticks. :)
ReplyDelete