Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Play With Me

I really, honestly, enthusiastically enjoy playing with my children. I like to play games, I love to read to them, I will roll around on the floor and wrestle forever. I will even do my best Valley Girl voice and play Barbies and Polly Pockets (although I can rarely resist the temptation for making my Barbie say borderline inappropriate things).

Crafts? Bring it! Baking? Hells yes! Play Doh? I don't even care if they mix the colors. But there is one activity that I despise with every fiber of my being, and I am ashamed to admit it: I hate the park. Katie spends her time at the park moping because she's bored, Julia spends hers yelling at me to push her on the swing or "WATCH THIS!" (which usually involves some twisty twirly move that she'll repeat 8,000 times, each time yelling "WATCH THIS!"). And Henry...Henry eats mulch and falls and climbs things he shouldn't and runs with sticks and generally drives me insane.

The kicker is, my kids love the park. Well, the little ones do. They love running and playing and going down the slide. They would happily swing for at least 5 minutes, which is a kind of record for a little kid. They don't seem to mind that it's 8,000 degrees outside and I have sweat running down the crack of my ass and despite my industrial strength deodorant, I smell like a bag of Fritos. They don't care if I am incapable of finishing a conversation with another mom because I'm running at breakneck speed across the playground to catch Henry, who's decided to hurl his small body off the highest point of the play structure.

The good thing about the park is that it is a fabulous photo opp. This morning, we met a friend of Julia's, her little brother, and her lovely mom. In between mulch eating and profuse sweating, I got a couple of great pictures.

He is so super cute, but the boy has an enormous melon. It's a planetoid!


And then I got this one:

I was backing up to get a picture of Henry going down the slide when I tripped over the end of the slide and went ass over teakettle and fell in the mud. Another reason to hate the park.

I suppose I should enjoy this time when they want to play outside. Even if it means I have to get down and dirty, too.

(I should mention that I am not ignoring my eldest child by not taking pictures of her! She is at camp this week.)

3 comments:

  1. Your kids are adorable! I don't mind the park, but I definitely don't play with my kids when we are there. I am the mom sitting on the bench talking on the phone while the other playful moms talk crap about me.

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  2. HAH! I'm the opposite of you. While I love baking and reading to my kids and teaching them, I absolutely loathe playing games. With my kids and also with adults. I'll watch. I'll be the dealer. I'll be the banker. I won't play though. I get too emotionally invested and I'm a very sore loser (oh, and I lose a LOT).

    I'm a sports girl. Let's go play baseball or soccer or wrestle, but if I have to sit down and play monopoly I might consider shooting myself.

    I love the park though. I have this addiction to meeting new people, and it totally fulfills that. And it forces me to engage with my kids because everyone is watching! I don't mind being a slacker mom at home, but a girl's gotta maintain appearances. ;)

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  3. These are great photos, you have a beautiful family.

    And I pretty much hated the park when my kids were little. So boring because I couldn't really read, I had to keep an eye on them. Or they forced me to play with them (gasp! lol). Or... something. Half hour, fine. More than that and I was ready to go. It would be better now, with my iPhone. But 20-25 years ago... boring.

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