Bowie was running a fever (again) today, so I kept him out of school. But, because it’s against every single rule in the Motherhood Handbook to keep a 2 1/2 year old inside a house on a sunny 65 degree day, I buckled him into the stroller and we walked to the park.
The whole walk there, I had this really weird feeling…I couldn’t quite place it…then finally when we were leaving the park, I got it: nostalgia.
There was a time, not so long ago, when I would buckle him in pretty much every morning, and we would make our trek to the park, and maybe he would swing or maybe he would slide, maybe he would just sit next to me on the bench, didn’t matter, I enjoyed those trips to the park so much. And I realized that we hadn’t been in a long time. Too long.
I have a big boy preschooler now, and a lot of days we just can’t seem to find the time for a walk, let alone time at the park (except our walks to school, which I cherish and will miss SO MUCH). I still remember his first trip to the park, SIGH: