We played hookey from church this morning. Aside from me not liking missing church, occupying the girls during that extra family time is not my favorite.
Brilliant me decided it would be a fun idea to hike through the back of our neighborhood to the dog park which I had heard has a playground. Brilliant husband decided to bring the monster.
It had all the signs of a disaster written all over it as we left the house. The oldest was wailing on the ground because I had limited her to only one stuffed animal. (Since we have gotten rid of our paci, we have becoming deeply emotionally attached to many, many animals. Different ones on different days. But alas, whatever, limit I give her, she always must have one more. They are all about to go in the attic.)
“I don’t want to go. I want to stay home!” This is an eerily similar tantrum to yesterday as I forced the minions to the library for some socialization and activities. #badmom Wine is sounded more and more like something I need to like.
Little squishy landed in the rocks quite a bit which is understandable when you have to have to have your “woof woof” with you. We eventually made it to the dog park with the loud cries of the human child keeping the wild animals at bay. Here, our “biggest regret” aka the monster begins acting a fool and barking at all the dogs in the fenced-in-dog park.
The playground is nowhere in sight.
We should have left.
But I assured my weary travelers that it was just on the other side.
The longest side evvvahhhh.
Fortunately no one else was there, so I didn’t have to pretend to be in a good mood or make idle chit chat while my husband and I were trying to devise the best way to get back home from our horrible venture.
Besides Big Squishy unfortunately realizing that the big tunnel slide was not yet age appropriate, the park was uneventful. Super nice park but hard to see that through my doomsday glasses.
We opted for what we thought was the less evil of the routes back home. By golly, if the other route was worse than the one we took, we would all be dead. No lies.
The can’t evens started pretty soon. Combined with my children’s ability to get distracted faster than their father, the trip seemed to last for ever. We had crying and laying on the ground. I had to carry children and manage the monster. It really was the worst of times.
We will never be doing this again unless my children are able to carry me. Buy me this, please.
And thank goodness, I put my foot down about the amount of stuffed animals because I barely had enough love to carry my own children. Angel bear and Kit would be sitting on Ryan road.
The end. There is no silver lining. Just a massive red blinking warning sign: Hiking with toddlers does not encourage family bonding.