Yesterday was the first day I attempted taking both boys on a walk by myself. I tried to gather all the things that would prepare me for making it around the block and back... water, keys, garage door opener, a receiving blanket for Luke to block the sun, a bottle for Noah in case he screamed and I needed something in a pinch... got the stroller ready, put Luke in then car which was close to the stroller. Put Noah in the stroller strapped him up, quickly snapped up Luke in the snugglie as fast as I could as Noah hates to wait and gets upset quickly. Rushed out the garage door and down the street like I knew what I was doing. I got four houses down before I realized I had no shoes!
So I throw the stroller in reverse only to toss the garage door opener out of the stroller as it shattered into several pieces. As I bent down to collect all the pieces to put the garage door opener back together the strap on the snugglie came undone. I couldn't re-hook it without taking Luke completely out and starting over. So one handedly I scramble to put the garage door opener back together only to realize I killed it. Thankfully I had remembered a set of keys, as a back up plan. So I run back unlock the doors feverishly all the while Noah is starting to whine and gearing up for a tantrum if I don't hurry, and I'm still holding Luke with one arm since I lost the left side of the snugglie support. Find some flip flops and we're on our way.
I'm surprised I just didn't give up and call it quits. But I kept going and we made it all the way to the elementary school up the street. It was field day. It didn't make me as sad this year to watch the other kids playing as it did last year. I think for me it was more of one last tour of a goodbye since the school is permanently closing due to budget cuts. It would be last time I'd ever see school kids playing there. The end to a piece of my childhood. It was okay to say goodbye, it was closing the door to memories of a little girl that had no idea what lay ahead for her in life. A time when life was innocent, sweet and easy.
I walked one last time where I learned to skip double rope, where I threw sand on the slide, where I fell off the monkey bars and landed in the nurses station, where I watched Blair whip out his boy parts on recess and pee in the tunnel. I passed the bicycle cage where the bikes were kept during the day, visualizing mine and how proud I was when I decorated the spokes with paper ribbon in red white and blue to match my patriotic outfit for a elementary school parade. I remember the tree that little five-year old Emily and I sat under when she told me her mother died of cancer, and I cried for the first time for another human being as we hugged. The gazebo that no longer exists that I would eat popsicles under. And the field where I let my monarch butterflies go that Mr. Waddingham had helped us hatch from their cocoons. I could still in my mind hear the bells ring and the sounds of happy squeals. I could see my small self lining up in order to go in to wait my turn for the drinking fountain. Life was truly beautiful then. What a wonderful little girl I was. I was precious and I miss those tender years in a lot of ways. I'm glad I didn't know then what life would be like when I got older. I am glad I enjoyed every beautiful moment that was brought to me, and that I had no worries. What an easy and wonderful childhood. I can only hope that my boys have a childhood that is filled with such memories.
After exchanging some hugs and conversation with a friend that I once worked with that I see from time to time that was watching her child participate in field day, the three of us headed back home. The walk back was slower paced. I had burned all my energy. My left arm was heavy from supporting Luke's weight that the snugglie had failed to provide. My right hand sweaty from being the only hand to push Noah in a stroller. I had wanted to drink the water I brought but failed to have a third hand to do it with so I trudged on. Me and my two boys. I think I was a bit lonesome on my walk. Sometimes I feel as if I am walking all alone. But I wasn't really alone because I am walking this road with these two sweet boys. Just the three of us.
Love,
Noah's Miracle by Stacy Warden is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
So I throw the stroller in reverse only to toss the garage door opener out of the stroller as it shattered into several pieces. As I bent down to collect all the pieces to put the garage door opener back together the strap on the snugglie came undone. I couldn't re-hook it without taking Luke completely out and starting over. So one handedly I scramble to put the garage door opener back together only to realize I killed it. Thankfully I had remembered a set of keys, as a back up plan. So I run back unlock the doors feverishly all the while Noah is starting to whine and gearing up for a tantrum if I don't hurry, and I'm still holding Luke with one arm since I lost the left side of the snugglie support. Find some flip flops and we're on our way.
I'm surprised I just didn't give up and call it quits. But I kept going and we made it all the way to the elementary school up the street. It was field day. It didn't make me as sad this year to watch the other kids playing as it did last year. I think for me it was more of one last tour of a goodbye since the school is permanently closing due to budget cuts. It would be last time I'd ever see school kids playing there. The end to a piece of my childhood. It was okay to say goodbye, it was closing the door to memories of a little girl that had no idea what lay ahead for her in life. A time when life was innocent, sweet and easy.
I walked one last time where I learned to skip double rope, where I threw sand on the slide, where I fell off the monkey bars and landed in the nurses station, where I watched Blair whip out his boy parts on recess and pee in the tunnel. I passed the bicycle cage where the bikes were kept during the day, visualizing mine and how proud I was when I decorated the spokes with paper ribbon in red white and blue to match my patriotic outfit for a elementary school parade. I remember the tree that little five-year old Emily and I sat under when she told me her mother died of cancer, and I cried for the first time for another human being as we hugged. The gazebo that no longer exists that I would eat popsicles under. And the field where I let my monarch butterflies go that Mr. Waddingham had helped us hatch from their cocoons. I could still in my mind hear the bells ring and the sounds of happy squeals. I could see my small self lining up in order to go in to wait my turn for the drinking fountain. Life was truly beautiful then. What a wonderful little girl I was. I was precious and I miss those tender years in a lot of ways. I'm glad I didn't know then what life would be like when I got older. I am glad I enjoyed every beautiful moment that was brought to me, and that I had no worries. What an easy and wonderful childhood. I can only hope that my boys have a childhood that is filled with such memories.
After exchanging some hugs and conversation with a friend that I once worked with that I see from time to time that was watching her child participate in field day, the three of us headed back home. The walk back was slower paced. I had burned all my energy. My left arm was heavy from supporting Luke's weight that the snugglie had failed to provide. My right hand sweaty from being the only hand to push Noah in a stroller. I had wanted to drink the water I brought but failed to have a third hand to do it with so I trudged on. Me and my two boys. I think I was a bit lonesome on my walk. Sometimes I feel as if I am walking all alone. But I wasn't really alone because I am walking this road with these two sweet boys. Just the three of us.
Love,
Noah's Miracle by Stacy Warden is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.