Good news: all three of my sons are on a schedule. Bad news: not one of them is on the same schedule as the other. Still, I am trying to get them into a common routine. Part of this is due to the fact that in the fall, they will need to be in one, so I might as well set a schedule now. The other part is that I will go nuts if we don't stay in a routine. This would be why I like scheduling playdates, those things in which I swore I would never partake. That's easy to say when you don't have kids. Just like saying "I will NEVER drive a mini-van," or "My children will never eat too much sugar or snack too much." The children I had in theory were perfectly behaved, eating their well balanced diets and showing their best manners at all times. In practice this week, I parted from theory day by day.
Monday was a recovery day to get back into our routine after the weekend. I got out to the park with the kids in the afternoon, which meant I did not have to pack a massive picnic for the little truckers, but it also meant that there were other kids in the park. WHAT? Did they not get the memo that it's our park? Within five minutes of my troops storming in, the other three children were run out like Citadel plebes. Owen killed them with so much kindness that they took off on their little ATV's. (It actually reminded me of the Seinfeld where George carts it down the sidewalk in his motorized wheelchair.) I love taking my kids to the park so that they can walk the perimeter like a balance beam and run for the woods instead of sliding or swinging. Oh, and also so that they can push Peter's empty stroller around the tot lot instead of playing in it.
This is what happened on Tuesday when we met up for a playdate with a friend of mine who is home on maternity leave. She and her five month-old daughter joined us in the park next to her house. Here's where I have to admit that it's not really a play date if it's more about the moms than the kids. My boys took in the little baby girl for a few seconds and then proceeded to divide and conquer. Since Owen knew that my friend's home was right next to the park, he was really no dummy. He wanted air conditioning and TV, which is why he continually left the park and ran back to her house. Then he started walking the rock wall around a tree in the park. Then he got stuck in the thistle in the bushes next to the park. "It's too darn hot!" he kept saying. Duh. Peter sat in the shade on a picnic blanket, ate his grilled cheese and drank his juice box. (He's drinking juice boxes now, which is one giant step away from sippy cups.) Nicholas did whatever Owen was doing. At one point, he took his grilled cheese down the slide with him. Then he threw it in the dirt. On the way home, Owen screamed and cried that his eyes were burning. Note to self: Rite Aid sunscreen is a bad idea. Next time I will need to splurge on the Water Babies for the extra $3. There's something about paying more than $10 for a can of sunscreen that just tweaks my hide.
When one of my teacher friends arranged a playdate for Wednesday at 9, I thought it was a little early, but I was awfully grateful to meet up with my two friends and their four kids at George Street Park. It only required packing six juice boxes, some cheese sticks and graham crackers. It took at least half an hour to get the boys settled in, but after that, they were delighted to play in this very well contained park for almost an hour. Together. Having fun. I was able to keep an eye on both of them and push Peter on his swing, and what I loved about this park is that the playscape stimulated their minds. It was like a maze to get through, built into the landscape, and Nicholas only found his way out once, as did Owen.
Thursday was professional development for me, so the boys got to have a time out from Mom. This is where one can reap the benefits of being a high school teacher. I can screen potential babysitters without their even knowing it, and once they graduate, I go in for the kill. This babysitter PLAYS with my children, and since she aspires to becoming a pediatrician, I have reason to believe that she likes kids.
This morning solidified for me that 11am is the witching hour for playdates. Sure, it looks like it will all work out on paper. Get them out of the house and run them around, then give them lunch in the park and bring them home to nap. The problem is that the boys start asking about going to the park at 6am. Literally, as soon as Nicholas woke up this morning, he shouted "PARK!" from his crib. By 10am, as I was cooking up four grilled cheese sandwiches and wrapping them in foil, Nicholas was climbing over the kitchen gate, and we were on round three of the redundant "No, you cannot strip off all of your clothes and your Pullup if you want to go to the park." Needless to say, we were late for the play date, but I was happy that the other mom got there even later. Before kids, I was always late to everything except work, so I am making progress, but it still amazes me that even when I plan to leave with plenty of time, something always comes up, whether it be a diaper change, a potty stop or a missing shoe search. When we arrived at Lions Park in Upper Saddle River, I was delighted to find that the entire place was fenced in, but there was still lots of room to groove. If there is one thing Nicholas loves, it's being part of a tribe. He ran all over that place, and while he did take his juice box to go and could be found several times climbing the steps to the slide with a fistful of chips, I was happy for him. Owen met up with his friend from Kindercare, whose mom is a teacher like me, home for the summer and in that ambivalent zone. We're not stay-at-home moms, and our kids need the socialization they get ten months out of the year. We can't temporarily join playgroups, which can be quite exclusive. It's arguable that I have a playgroup unto myself here, and I know that my kids play with each other, but they also get sick of each other. It's fun to see them get along in the company of other little ones.
Some other side notes since my last post:
Peter's 15 month wellness visit was this week, and he weighed in at 28 pounds, 2 ounces, 34.5 inches. He's huge, and even though he is still not walking, do you think I'm encouraging him? Of course I want to make sure he is progressing developmentally, which the doctor assures me, but his climbing alone is exhausting. Luckily, I have Owen to keep an eye on him, which works well for about ten seconds max.
Jenkinson's was a lot of fun a few weeks ago. But really hot. I didn't care as long as the kids had fun, which they did. Luckily, they didn't know how to make the helicopter go up by pulling the lever on the inside. I was prepping them for other summer carnivals that I thought we'd be going to until I decided that we can wait until next summer. Until then, the train at Van Saun and the carousel at Paramus Park will have to do!
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