Tag: freedom

children, happiness, kids, life in pictures, mommyhood, motherhood, parenting

Little Bits of Freedom

WFAM

Over the weekend Mad Dog and I took the boys to a big, shady park.  The weather is finally starting to be less oppressively humid and outings to parks will be back on our regular agenda.  For Full Speed and T.Puzzle this is a beautiful thing.

It has been a few months since they have been at a park.  They have grown and matured even if I can’t see it fully in our day to day life.  They actually were able to run the park without me having to follow them.  Full Speed had already achieved this status a while ago, but this was the first time we were able to let them both run free.  T.Puzzle was able to physically master all the twists and turns of the convoluted park equipment.  His every movement was no longer precarious and panic-inducing.  He also has a better handle on his emotions so the chance of him physically lashing out at a fellow playground patron has also decreased substantially.  Of course Mad Dog and I didn’t take our eyes off of either of them.  We found a bench under a gorgeous live oak tree and sat back, watched the boys play and had an actual conversation.  

I didn’t know this was possible in a park setting.  I have spent the past years chasing, climbing and begging my boys to behave.  Playdates at the park have consisted of me running around like a crazy person and occasionally lobbing a thought at the Mom who met us there.  We never engaged in a full-length conversation.  The safety of my boys and my constant supervision of them to stop attacks on other kids prevented this.

So, to sit back and watch them have fun and actually feel relaxed was extraordinary.  I guess this is an example of the little bits of freedom parents gradually gain back as their children grow and mature.

Awesome.

kids, mommyhood, Uncategorized

Look Ma, No Bag!

WFAM

Full Speed was reluctant to leave the custody of Grandma and the company of B Squared and Lil’ Superman (his cousins). Mad Dog went to pick him up so he could go to the Junior’s class at Tae Kwon Do. Normally, he goes to Tiny Tigers because that’s the class he can attend with his brother. Since our schedule is so shifted because of family and the holiday, we let him go to the older class to at least get a lesson in this week.

After he was picked up, Full Speed was feeling mopey and unmotivated. “Dad, I can’t go to Tae Kwon Do, I have a little bit of a cold (he obviously has heard us discussing his little brother’s recent ailments).”

Mad Dog replied, “Well, that’s too bad because you’ll have to go home and go straight to bed. I guess you won’t be able to meet your cousins at Box Seats (I know, I really need to invest in some shares of that place) after practice.”

Full Speed says, “Hmmm, I guess I’m feeling better. I think I can go, Dad (way to rally little man!).”

The class was good. It challenges Full Speed a lot more than Tiny Tigers but some of the content, well, okay a lot of the content was over his head. He had a good time though.

We head to the beloved (by the boys, NOT me) Box Seats and the boys set out to play arcade games and eat fries with their cousins. It goes smoothly until the end when T.Puzzle announces he has pooped. I have to take him out to our truck where all the changing supplies are located. I have been resisting taking my diaper bag everywhere because it is tedious and cumbersome. It is my way of rebelling against the constraints of motherhood. I can’t tell you how freeing it feels to walk into a restaurant, store or doctor’s office with only my kids and a tiny purse in tow. Obviously, the consequence is I have to take T.Puzzle to the truck on the off-chance he poops. To me, it’s worth the gamble.

So, it’s a long, drawn-out process to clean him up but I do. After I tie up the diaper in a plastic bag and sanitize my hands I realize there isn’t an outside garbage can I can use. I decide to leave the bag on the back bumper of the truck because I don’t know how long we will be and I don’t want my truck to house the bag’s noxious fumes. I extract T.Puzzle from the back of the truck, put the bag on the ledge and swing the rear hatch down. As the hatch passes the bag of poopy diaper, it sort of sucks it up in a whoosh of air and catches it in the corner as it slams shut. The bag pops, and the dirty diaper shoots out and plops to the ground. Yuck. I have to open the hatch again, get another bag, scoop up the gross remains and then sanitize my hands all over again. And you know what? I still have no regrets. Here’s to all the Moms leaving their diaper bags at home. May your shoulders be light and your kids poop-free!