The WORST thing about trying to live a ‘normal’ life with two little energetic people, while getting used to having a baby in the house again, is physically getting them into and out of the car on your own. When two of us are going out with all the kids, it is tricky (now that we are outnumbered), but when I am on my own and heading out, for the first few outings it was mind-blowingly complicated. Especially when you factor SAFETY in as the top priority (i.e. not allowing any child to be hit by a car, or run away), closely followed by TIMING as the second priority (i.e. the baby has been fussing for the last 20 minutes of our play at the park/grocery shopping/preschool drop-off/pickup and now that we are about to open the car door and buckle him in, he has entered a state closely related to a crying-induced seizure, but SURE, you can look at the ant/decide you must climb in BY MYSELF!/want to learn how to buckle in your brother/sister in 27 easy steps… or insert 1000 other delaying tactics here.
Sometimes, hunching into the car – OVER one child, to reach the one in the middle, while being repeatedly kicked in the thigh by the other other, while listening to the baby screaming, feels like a special form of torture. Keeping my mind on the fact that having a car is a privilege and having three wriggling
contortionists children to strap in is a blessing can be a real challenge.
With the above as a caveat reflecting on the beginning and ending of our outing, here are some photos of our first trip to the park!
“Who’s that walking over my bridge?” – Role playing the 3 Billy Goats’ Gruff