Sounds like we're having an Oriental picnic, no? The kids were begging to play at the park, but the weather, indecisive about whether to be winter or spring, has been leaning towards winter. Finally, we had a clear day and I figured I could sit as well at the park as at home. Away we went.
I make this out to seem like a big deal, but it's really not. The park is nice and safe and just up the street from our house so it's quite easy to get to. I've just been... so... tired... lately. Any exertion is a big deal to me. But what mother won't ever let her kids go to the park? I'm sure I'm not THAT mom. Even though I want to be.
So up the street we traipsed. Twins, girl, cute husband, maybe an older boy or two, balls and plastic bats, sturdy shoes and warm jackets. And me with a giant quilt coming slowly behind. I thought I'd spread the blanket out in the grass and sit on it to watch the kids play. The wind turned out to be windier at the park than at our house, so I sat at a picnic table, wrapped up in the blanket, trying to keep all the body parts tucked in. I felt like an old lady burrito.
It was nice to watch them play - mostly. And it was nice to be outside - mostly. They laughed and played on the swings. They organized some kind of hot lava monster game on the playground. They played wiffleball with the fat plastic bat. Georgie spun and spun in circles until he fell to the ground, laughing and dizzy. As he waited for the world to stop spinning, he noticed how fast the clouds were racing across the sky. He wanted me to see, so I lumped over and rolled on the grass beside him. The clouds really were magnificent. Big and fluffy, with sparkling light tops and dark bottoms heavy with rain. The wind blew them into piles and wisps all across the sky. I was done moving, so I laid there and watched.
It's not how I had envisioned going to the park. It's not how I envisioned playing with my kids. But for right now, while my body deals with this latest Hashimoto's flare, it's just right for me.