Not a Park Day

This week I haven't been able to work out every single night... but I haven't given up. I've been doing sort of an every other night replacement plan. I feel a little guilty about it since I did commit to doing every night, but something had to give.
It has been a busy week. Since the weather has been nice, we've made a few efforts to go the park, both ending in me deciding that it wasn't in fact warm enough. Yesterday I really regretted taking Elijah... It sounded like such a good idea, and by looking out the window it seemed like the perfect way to spend our afternoon. Well once you tell a three-year-old something, there's no turning back. After the park idea flew out of my mouth he was completely on board! We got on our shoes, and coats and stepped outside where we were greeted with multiple whooshes of Post Falls wind. I wanted to turn right around and head back in the house, but I told myself we could just stay at the park a short while and then come home for some hot cocoa. Good plan, right?
When we arrived at the park, Elijah shouted out, "Are we going to play at the castle park?" His excitement was pure and I knew then that my plan would be more than difficult to carry out. The "castle park," as he calls it, just happens to be surrounded by great white pines which create an enormous amount of shade- perfect for the sweltering days of summer, not so much for the cool afternoons of spring.
I loaded Owen into the stroller as Elijah bounced nearby, ready to zoom all the way to the top of the castle. As soon as I got Owen buckled in, we pushed our way over blankets of fallen pine needles to the playground. By the time we Elijah ran across the bridge for the third time, my hair, which had been pulled into an up do, was flying about recklessly and obscuring my view. I kept trying to tuck it behind my ears, but it was no use. A few of the daddies there, to my shocking surprise, were sporting shorts! They must be crazy! It was only about fifty degrees and in the shade with the wind! I only lasted about another fifteen minutes. We were shivering, and I was dreaming about a hot cup of cocoa! This however, did not appeal to Elijah.
I gave him the usual fair warning, "Okay Elijah, you get to go down the slide three more times... two more times... okay, last time!" After he'd finished his "last time" he was running around to sneak in an extra round in. I intercepted him, reminding him that it was now time to go. "But mommy," he protested, "I can't stop playing!" The way he said it was like he was actually unable to stop playing... I wanted to laugh, but I put on my stern mommy face and said, "You can stop playing. It's time to go now, come on." I motioned toward the car. He looked at me, then back at the stairs in front of him leading to the castle bridge. In a split second he made his mischievous decision and headed up the stairs. I caught him with one arm and slung him onto my "baby shaped" hip. He wasn't expecting this... he thought he could get away with one last victory down the slide, and when I surprised him the tears began to flow! The entire park got to experience his wails and screams of the unfairness of life. We got halfway to the car when I realized my "baby shaped hip was made mostly for babies, and I couldn't carry this big boy any longer. I set him down and requested that he walk the rest of the way. I continued pushing Owen in the stroller, but Elijah stood frozen under the tall shady pine trees with his mouth open as wide as possible screaming in disbelief. I thought he would follow me to the car. I had seen other mother use this tactic. You know the one: "Okay, I guess I'll just leave without you," they say, and their kid follows out of fright at being left behind. I don't generally like this tactic mostly because it is based on a lie: I would never actually leave my child somewhere, and wouldn't want them to think that... but that is a whole other story. He didn't move from that spot. I stood wishing it had been warmer, wishing I could have let him play longer, then wishing we hadn't come at all. I did the only thing I could do... I marched back over the blanket of pine needles, scooped up my distraught child and proceeded to the car, pushing the stroller with arm and holding him tight in the other. The ride home wasn't quiet, but it warm.
Today we went to play at the mall where the wind doesn't blow, and there are no pine trees.