Saturday, June 25, 2011

Taking Walks With My Two Little Men

I can't drive yet. Hopefully next week the doctor will clear me, but until then, at least while Greg is at work, Nick, Henry, and I are limited to walking around the neighborhood. We've taken a bunch of walks this week.

Actually, I'm not quite ready to venture very far with two kids, at least not yet. But I know that I need some exercise, and Nick turns into a monster if he doesn't get his energy out. So we took walks this week--at least on the days it didn't rain. Considering that I just had a c-section, I'm feel like I'm recovering well; though my energy levels aren't anywhere near pre-pregnancy levels, I have way more energy than I did for most of the third trimester of pregnancy.

Shall I address the baby leash first? Well, last year Greg and I had a special tether that we used with Nick--basically it was a baby leash. We stopped using it sometime last summer because Nick started rebelling. Basically, he'd run until he ran out of leash, fall down, and cry. Then, he'd stand up, run, until he ran out of leash, fall down, and cry. Repeat fifteen times. Sigh.

But now, I have this little man to worry about. . .

. . . and after the first time Nick ran from me, I decided that a new "leash" was in order. He ran, leaving me the unenviable task of frantically setting the brake on the stroller, then chasing Nick down and tackling him before he got to the pond. I was freaking out about both boys at the same time.

A woman can only handle so many stressful moments before she decides it would be better just to stay home. Plus, I'm still not supposed to lift Nick. Yeah, right. The doctor who came up with the whole "lift nothing heavier than your baby" obviously didn't understand the realities of caring for a two-year-old. It is physically impossible to care for Nick without having to carry him.

Anyway, I bought a more appealing version of a baby leash. This one we call Nick's "backpack," and it comes with a tether. I like this one better because it has some elastic give to it. When he reaches the end, it pulls rather than yanks, so Nick doesn't end up on the floor. He heeds the warning fairly well. Plus, the tether means I'm willing to risk walking to the park.

I've been avoiding the park that Nick broke his arm at last year, even though it's the closest park to our house. Perhaps it's just superstition, but it's also that this particular park has several tall areas without guardrails. I'm not taking any chances. There are lots of parks within walking distance, and I prefer the one across the street from the elementary school the boys will attend someday. Nick was super, super excited when he found out where we were walking. Henry? He just continued to nap. Something about the stroller relaxes him.

We stayed at the park a good forty minutes or so, and then it was time to walk home. Nick didn't want to leave. "No," he said. "I just want to play at the park for a little while more." Then he repeated this, at full volume, while stomping his feet. It's not as cute while coming from a screeching child. Also not cute when Mommy has to haul you over her shoulder and drag you out of the park, caveman style. That's what I mean about doctor's having unrealistic expectations about not lifting a 30-lb. child.

I suppose I could've stayed at the park until he was willing to leave on his own, but I was hungry, and it was getting near naptime. Finally I wrestled Nick's "backpack" on and we headed home.

Did I mention that this park is farther away? It's at least a half mile away, probably more. Nick has walked way farther than that, so I didn't think it'd be an issue. It wasn't until we got about halfway back. Nick sat down on the concrete, told me "I'm ready to take a sleepy nap," and refused to move. I had to literally beg him to get up and walk home. I ended up carrying him the last two blocks because he tried to climb into a hole that had been dug to plant a tree. He refused to stay away from the hole.

Hey, at least I got my exercise, right?


  1. I'm sorry, but I chuckled reading that, and imagining you pushing the stroller, with him kicking and screaming on your shoulder, and you with a disgruntled look on your face. This is a hard age, it can be fun, but it is also hard. Wait til he gets to four, that is a really fun age. That was my favorite age of his little kid years. Sorry he's giving you fits.

  2. I just hope he finishes with the fits soon. I know they don't magically go away at 3. I'm looking forward to four, too.

    Only problem is, when Nick is four, Henry will be turning two. So it's possible the "two-ness" will ruin the wonderfulness of Nick's "four-ness."

    It is funny, in hindsight. But at the time, I was livid.