Park This

Gideon straight up adores going to the park.  If you go outside of our house with him right this minute he will eventually and inevitably begin walking up the hill toward the place where he can see his friends (that’s what he calls all of those children whose toys he covets and at whom he will shriek in delight when they acknowledge his existence).  Last week the weather was gorgeous and so I thought I would brave the park with two children under two.  You can see where this is going, can’t you?  Yes.  Somewhere just south of there. 

As we have not yet purchased  a double stroller, I decided that I would put Piper in the stroller and Gideon could walk.  He is a big boy.  He likes walking.  He is good at following directions.  This shouldn’t be too bad. And it wasn’t.  On the way there.  He held onto the stroller or alternately, my hand until we were right by all the sand.  He played really well with all of the children – running down the hill together, pretending the jungle gym was a pirate ship (although none of them were Somali), asking permission, when prompted, to use sand toys of other children.  It was fun for him, if a little stressful for me since Piper woke up and started howling and I had to hold her for most of the time while trying to make sure that Gideon did not attempt to climb or dismount from any of the areas of the jungle gym that are still a little advanced for him. I was glad when it was time to go home to make supper.  

Gideon was okay with leaving too as he was getting hungry and hoping for a hot dog. I put Piper back into the stroller and she immediately began to scream that baby scream of hunger and anger. Since it was the very first day of nice weather; there were plenty of people outside to watch me push a stroller one handed while a toddler grasped the other hand and the baby inside staged her own version of a protest. I’m sure we were a sight.  

I’m even more sure that we were a sight when Gideon decided he’d had enough of this walking business and laid down on the sidewalk.  I tried convincing him that he would be in trouble when we got home if he didn’t get up ‘right-this-minute’ but it was clear from the look in his eye that he was not going to make it home.  He’d decided to die right there on that tiny slab of concrete.  It would just be easier. And then I did the thing that I swore I would not do.  

Sidebar: I don’t know why I’d swore not to.  I suppose it always just seemed like a weak thing to do.  And it is really.  It is a move staged from a position of weakness, when none of the power is in your own hands, when you must acknowledge your inferiority to mount the insurmountable.  I suppose it was a bit naive of me to think that I would not find myself in this same position one day.  And this.  This was the day.

“Do you want some M&Ms?” I ventured.

“Uh huh” he replied, with a degree of enthusiasm that no exclamation point can demonstrate.

“Then get up off the sidewalk and you can have some when we get home” I explained cheerfully.

He immediately rolled over and peeled himself off the pavement. 

We went to a park today too.  But this time, we drove.