My son just turned two.
TWO.
He’s active.
He’s kinda like a time bomb, actually, and if I don’t get him outside burning off steam, he’s going to explode yucky kid goo all over the walls of my house.
And so we walk to the park.
Well, I waddle.
I can’t move very fast anymore. Moving hurts me. And while it’s great that there are several parks within a few blocks of my house, my kid still insists on running away from me, often into the street.
Jesus ouch goes my fast waddle.
I’m told this is a common problem (the running into the street…but I guess also the waddle. but I was originally referring only to the running). So why can’t parents with brains design human parks like they design dog parks? Toddlers and dogs ain’t that much different, folks. Fence them in. Mommy’s tired of running. And by running I mean waddle-shuffling.
And another thing. Plant some damn trees. I know this is Oregon, but occasionally we have this thing called sunlight.
I have delicate skin that’s constantly being sucked dry by my greedy fetus. And my pregnant body is already 1002 degrees. Mama needs the shade.
And while you’re at it, add in a little Starbucks booth. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy, just big enough for a sexy college dropout barista and that whoosh-whoosh machine that makes the foam.
Cuz sleep is getting harder to come by and we all know this is only going to get worse. I need to stay just conscious enough while I’m resting my eyes in the shade so that I can take my dog-child back home after he’s burned off a sufficient amount of evil.
See you tomorrow, fellow park-goers.
Psychobabble 