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Monday, November 16, 2009

Had my hands full

Let me set the stage:
A beautiful Fall morning, unseasonably warm for mid November. A perfect day to take your kids to the park. Make it a playdate with bike riding and it's even better.

So two moms, 4 kids, (2 on bikes and 2 in stroller) and 2 dogs on leash. What could be more relaxing than that?

Dylan is still getting comfortable riding his bike without training wheels. He can stop but not gracefully. He can sometimes turn around and can't quite start on his own yet. So I need a free hand to help him when he needs it. With that in mind, we decided to put the 2 smaller kids in the same stroller rather than both push one.

All was well for the 1st half of our walk/run to keep up with the speedsters on bikes. All was well until I offered to push the stroller. That's when my hands became a little too full!

The other little boy in the stroller started to cry so I stopped to see what was the matter. I peeked inside to find my daughter with a handful of his hair. When I told her to be nice to her friends she smiled at me and proceeded to push him out of the stroller.

At this point Dylan and his friend were so far ahead we couldn't see them. The other mom ran ahead to check on them while I dealt with Camryn. I handed her my cell phone to distract her from her prey while I pushed the stroller along.

I spotted the others up ahead and started to pick up my pace. Callie is not that great on leash to begin with but put a stroller next to her and she's impossible. Well, when she caught a glimpse of Dylan she took off. She was pulling me and the stroller out of control. Before I could drop her leash we clothes-lined a baby who looked like he had just learned to walk. My first instinct was the pick up the little boy we had just trampled. In doing so, I let go of my stroller and handed the crying boy back to his very understanding mother.

After apologizing I turned around to find my stroller, not only with my daughter but also with someone else's baby in it, rolling towards the woods. As I ran to grab it I yelled out: "what kind of mother am I?" to which the mother of the boy I had knocked down and the mother whose baby was rolling away from me laughed! And as I grasped the handle of the stroller, I heard one of them say: "I'm glad I'm not the only one!"

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