For the love of swinging
I really have a love/hate relationship with parks. One the one hand, it's so nice to be outside and get the boys doing something. I always think that if I take them to the park they will run and be wild so when we get home they won't need to run and be wild in the house. Not so. Going to a park with swings most definitely turns into a fight at some point of the outing. Here's what happens:
The boys make an immediate bee-line for the swings. All three of them beg to be pushed on the swings from the minute they find out the park has swings. If I make them wait they ask every five seconds, "Has it been a minute yet?"
Sometimes I decide I don't want to push them yet so I can convince Will to do it for me. This only works for a few minutes though because he hasn't quite mastered pumping on the swing yet so he inevitably starts asking to be pushed as well.
They spend the next while in a swinging bliss. I have yet to meet any other kids that love to swing as much as my own.
(You can tell the only one I helped get ready this morning because he is the only one matching. They also like to kick their shoes off the minute they get to the park.)
And now we get to see what happens when I finally get tired of pushing and tell them they need to go find something else to do.
"Go down the slide!"
"Go play in the sand!"
"Go find a friend to play with!"
"Go play on the monkey bars!"
Oh man, it's tough having such a mean mom.
But then, they finally reach acceptance and the park becomes a happy place to be once again.
(P.S. These boys sure can't wait for their dad and mom and to decide they are ready for more kids. They want a little baby to play with!)
The boys make an immediate bee-line for the swings. All three of them beg to be pushed on the swings from the minute they find out the park has swings. If I make them wait they ask every five seconds, "Has it been a minute yet?"Sometimes I decide I don't want to push them yet so I can convince Will to do it for me. This only works for a few minutes though because he hasn't quite mastered pumping on the swing yet so he inevitably starts asking to be pushed as well.
They spend the next while in a swinging bliss. I have yet to meet any other kids that love to swing as much as my own.
(You can tell the only one I helped get ready this morning because he is the only one matching. They also like to kick their shoes off the minute they get to the park.)
And now we get to see what happens when I finally get tired of pushing and tell them they need to go find something else to do."Go down the slide!"
"Go play in the sand!"
"Go find a friend to play with!"
"Go play on the monkey bars!"
Oh man, it's tough having such a mean mom.
But then, they finally reach acceptance and the park becomes a happy place to be once again.
(P.S. These boys sure can't wait for their dad and mom and to decide they are ready for more kids. They want a little baby to play with!) 
Comments
And I'm jealous of your sunshine. I woke to snow today.
One of the greatest joys in my life was the day Ryan learned how to pump on the swing. I actually took a bunch of pictures and videos of it. I spent 6 years fighting with the swing and I was happy to have finally won the fight!
(He still asks me to push him sometimes, but I am a big jerk and tell him no!)
The family is ready for some new babies though, so get cracking!
Please learn to swing by yourselves kids!!!
Cute pictures of your boys!
What's up with the amazing weather out there? It's been raining and cold for days here and next week isn't going to be any better.
That's funny you should say something about another baby because I just asked mom the other day if you were pregnant again because you had mentioned you felt sick in one of your previous posts. Good luck with that decision. I keep chickening out on the whole "another baby" thing.
Lindsey
My sanity as a mother sometimes revolves around a timer--so the kids know they have a certain amount of time to do something they want to do that I don't want them to do for an hour. They are probably going to be traumatized by the ding of a timer the rest of their lives.