I took G to the park after I picked her up from school on Tuesday because the weather was so lovely.
We were the only ones there. We had the run of the place.
I thought she’d have a heyday.
Instead, we spent the first 10 minutes or so like this.
Ya’ll. This girl has been SO clingy lately. It’s a little heartbreaking because, well, I have to let go. Momma has to go to work and I cannot hold you all day, sweet G. But these cuddles are great. Just, you know, less great when it’s 85 degrees outside and you’re wanting your toddler to burn some energy.
Eventually, she warmed up to this dinosaur. Who is basically Barney with a scary face. Well played, park planners.
(Also the cars at this park that you can “ride” in say ‘Desert Command’ or something like that on the side. This park is very aggressive. No wonder G didn’t want to roam freely)
After a few less than thrilling minutes on scary Barney, we made our way over to the tire swing.
You would think that this would be the peak of fun. This swing was delightfully kid sized. No more than a few inches off the ground. Perfect for a curious toddler, I naively thought.
Now here is where I would very much like 10 minutes inside the mind of my child. She tired of the tire swing quickly and moved onto the rocks. These rocks? They were everything. And then they were nothing. It’s all so very confusing and hard to keep up with.
She piled them in my hand.
And then took them right back.
Round and round we went like this. She threw rocks, handed me rocks, attempted to eat the rocks (don’t worry, mom, I’m pretty sure she only ate two.)
And then. Just as suddenly as the love affair with rocks began. It was over. Done with the rocks. The rocks are terrible. “Why am I touching these rocks, mom?” G would have said if she had the words. What I got instead was wailing and gnashing of teeth. Or a dinosaur impression, come to think of it.
I blame you, scary Barney.
