- Horrible mothers make their children walk on beautiful paths like this.
My whole goal for this weekend – while Matt is off cracking craft beers with his college buddies at a wedding on a beautiful windswept Carolina beach – was simply to not fall down the stairs and break my nose. So you’d think, nose remains unbroken! Success!
And yet.
Yesterday I thought, screw it. I’m sick of packing up the house for our impending move, the sky is bluer than autumnally reasonable and we are getting out of the goddamn house to DO SOMETHING. So I shout at the girls, “Girls, we’re going to do something outdoorsy!”
They practically tripped over themselves to stuff their feet into matching Keens and fill up their canteens while I pulled out my trail map to plot a hike through the peak color areas of the Appalachian Trail. Or else they whined about how much they wanted to sit in front of the TV and watch “Shake it Up” on the Disney Channel while I dragged their asses to the park by the river under the I-26 overpass. I think it was the latter.
I set them loose on the overcrowded playground since, apparently, I wasn’t the only one snatching the last nice fall day from the jaws of winter. The girls split up – one to the big playground, one to the little. I stood on a 180 degree pivot to keep watch, seeking pedophiles, big kids with poor judgment, and sharp edges. I lasted about five minutes before I started feeling chest pains.
“Let’s go walk by the river now!” I shouted a bit too eagerly, my voice high and pinched. They trudged away from the playground, hate brewing in their eyes. “Sure, bitch,” their gazes screamed at me. “Take us away from the one joy we have in life.”
Akeyla got a splinter almost immediately. A normal child might squeal or cry but would likely want the splinter – I don’t know – removed? Not Key. She locked her arms to her sides and RAN AWAY screaming at the top of her lungs, “DON’T TOUCH IT!!!!”
I tackled her and sat on her legs while Astrid sat on her other arm and people on the path stared, wondering why this white woman and her Asian underling were torturing this adorable black child. Splinter removed, we walked on.
Two paths diverged in the woods and I chose the less traveled one – the mulched path closer to the river instead of the paved path in the hot sun. This was WRONG. Astrid did not want to walk close to the river. She did not want to walk on mulch. She did not want to walk at all. She did not want to walk with me. The path would never connect back to the main path, not ever. I was wrong. Walking was stupid. The river was stupid. I was stupid.
Consequences ensued, causing the immediate cancellation of the planned ice cream outing after the park, which had been predicated upon good behavior. Which sucked for me and Akeyla, who would now also be out ice cream, WHICH I REALLY REALLY WANTED. And though in theory I could see some justice in making Astrid sit and watch us linger over our cones in front of her, I knew she would also lose her shit in public and I might scream at Akeyla, “Eat your ice cream! Eat it in front of your sister! Show her how delicious ice cream tastes for girls who don’t call their mothers bad names!”
So we went home, angry and ice creamless. More consequences ensued. Doors were slammed, and people cried behind them. (OK, that was me.)
Time went on, the “Shake it Up” movie returned to the screen, and all was right in the world again.
Today I’m thinking of taking them rafting.
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I’m cracking up over here. We pry our children away to go outside and do something fun and then they make us regret it. You have a gift of making something totally relatable into something uniquely hilarious.
Michelle – that made my day
Don’t make me spit out my latte! I love the way your write, Cindy. MIchelle’s right, you have a gift! I’m sorry it wasn’t the nice day you envisioned, but at least you got some funny blog fodder out of it.
Thanks Stacie!
You have just accurately described my exact life, right down to the refusal of removing a splinter. Yes, the momentary pain of having it removed will be far less fun than waiting for it to get infected and losing a limb. Good thinking kid! I swear we try to do something nice and we are punished for it. We moms cannot win!
ha motherhood! you’re nailing it!
You also described my life and my children down to the splinter. We ended up taking our daughter to an urgent care clinic so the doc could be the bad guy and hold her down to remove it (no end to our parenting outsourcing options). My oldest daughter flips when we suggest anything outside (even when it involves pancakes). WTF? Today I’ll be taking them to Costco against their will. Mean mommies indeed. Enjoy your rafting! And thanks for the laughs this am!
Why oh why does the park sound fun when it never ever ever is. This post disheartens me because I thought park trips ended at age 4. I think your girls are older than that. Hrumph. Rafting it is.
They are 9 and 4. Playgrounds are fun for a looooong time.
Somewhere along the read I was expecting a pocket full of break crumbs to be taken out….follow THOSE home little girlies!
Ahhhhh…13…Fine. Stay home. Then we secretly get ice cream.
You crack me up post after post. Michelle is definitely right. I relate to you in a lot of ways, and I love your perspective and humor. Thank you so much for sharing your stories! I smile every time I see your blog pop up in my email!
Thanks Lorri! I love knowing people are reading
how DARE you make them walk in mulch?
that’s just cruel.
I know. I might as well lead them down a trail of horse shit.
When husbands are away…
And before I read this, I wrote the account of my fabulous solo trip to Chuck E. Cheese for my entry this week. It goes live tomorrow and I hope no one thinks I copied…
parallel lives, my friend…
I have absolutely nothing clever to add, and to tell you how much you rock would simply be redundant. I will tell you that I just read the bit about your Asian underling aloud to the hubs sitting next to me and we both LOL’ed.
Oh, P.S. I just re-read my comment. Just to clarify, I only have one hubs and he is the same one who is sitting next to me.
Great post. The photo and caption at the beginning were a great hook, too.
I’m laughing so hard because this post just gave me a flashback to this walk my parents used to make my sisters and I take with them around this time when we were little. Every fall when the leaves would start to turn they would make us walk what felt like 20 miles to see the foliage and enjoy some “family time.” My sisters and I hated it, of course, and probably made it as unpleasant as possible, but every year, without fail, we took what came to be known as “The Walk.” I am sending this post to my mom right now, she’ll love it.
“I knew she would also lose her shit in public and I might scream at Akeyla, “Eat your ice cream! Eat it in front of your sister! Show her how delicious ice cream tastes for girls who don’t call their mothers bad names!”” That made me laugh out loud! I have soooo been there. Funny, perfect post. Loved it.
Hey, at least you tried!
Love it! Every time I try to plan something fun and memorable for Daniel, it seems to fail spectacularly. I always appreciate your honesty and humor.
YOU ARE ME! YOUR KIDS ARE OUR KIDS! I pissed in my pyjama pants because of this. Just a dribble. I had to go anyhow.
That last line made me laugh out loud (an actual LOL!) I’m sorry to hear they made you cry, but I’m sure all was well for them once their movie was back on
Hillarious once again!
I hate when consequences for kids turn into consequences for parents too. Just when you really needed some ice cream!
I hate the stress the park causes. Especially since I have a kid who tends to be afraid of heights.
I bet your husband is sorry he missed all the fun!
Funny! I don’t have kids, but I used to be a nanny, so I can relate to regretting when you’ve threatened something, because you have to follow through! I remember telling them they couldn’t go to the movies, or the mall, or whatever, and then deeply regretting it, because I really want to go myself! Ah, kids.
You nailed it, sister. Absolutely nailed it. I so wish I had been able to read this blog post when my teen and tween were of a park-appropriate age. It would have been nice to know then that I wasn’t alone in my suffering.
ha – it was you crying behind the door. Funny post. Uh, and don’t take them rafting. been there. when left in the water with crying children too long, the oars are way to tempting an instrument.
Ohmygoodness, dying. It’s just so, so how it goes sometimes, isn’t it?
(I applaud your ability to skip ice cream. Damn, that’s hard to do!)
My cousin’s kid is the same way about splinters. He’ll let his get infected and stuff. Crazy.
I hope you brought ice cream with you to go cry in your room.
When they’re 35, they’ll be telling their friends “Oh, we were a big hiking family. We loved to go on country walks together.”
This is why I hide inside my house and don’t often take my kids anywhere.
xoxo
I take my kids to the park by myself? They’re fine. There’s 3 of them to play together. I meet a mom friend and her kids? My kids whine and cling to me and pretty much sit on a bench and eat snacks. As soon as my friend leaves they are back to playing together. FML.
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