It was 63 degrees in New Jersey today. It’s February. It shouldn’t be 63 degrees. Following my son’s Kindermusik class, we drove 40 minutes back to our house. Luckily, both kids napped in the car. I didn’t want to go home. It was gorgeous out. We’ve been cooped up in the house all winter, mainly because my baby daughter absolutely hates the cold. How awesome would it be, I thought, for my son to wake up and realize that we were at the playground? We went for a little bit yesterday, but today we had the whole afternoon to spend there. No time restrictions, no commitments – just time for fresh air, sunshine, and play! Yay!
My daughter woke up, nursed, and we played together in the car until finally my son woke up. He looked around and I watched as he tried to process where we were. I told him how excited I was that we could spend the next few hours on the swings and slides and whatnot. I even had snacks! “Let’s go home,” was his response.
I was flabbergasted! “Home? Really? But I want to go to the playground! It’s so nice out. Pleeeeeeease!!!” I begged him, but he was insistent. There was no reasoning with him. He just wanted to go home, plain and simple.
So, I put my daughter back in her car seat and tried to persuade my son one last time. No luck. We went home and I sulked for a bit. I never get to have any fun, I thought. But, realizing that I sounded like my two year old when he doesn’t get his way, I decided that I had to shake it off and get over my disappointment (but, I still don’t think it was fair…).