Swimming lessons |
ME BLOGGING ABOUT BEING A NEW MOM, LIVING IN NEW YORK CITY, FINDING MYSELF IN MY 30s WITH NO 401K, MY INTERRACIAL MARRIAGE, MY HILARIOUS TODDLER, WRITING, ACTING, AND TRYING TO TREAD WATER IN THIS VAST WORLD WIDE WEB. |
Today my husband and I are taking our 17 month old son, Rory, to the park for an Easter Egg Hunt. Should be interesting since Rory has recently discovered the attention getting power of The Temper Tantrum. I can’t WAIT until some poor unsuspecting kid goes for the same egg that Rory wanted and Rory does a pavement body slam and shrieks to the gods. This week Rory was given a helium balloon by an unsuspecting do-gooder. He obsessed over the balloon, refusing to let it go so I could put him back in the stroller. Sucker that I am, I let him walk along side the stroller so he could hold the balloon and all would be happiness and laughter. Ha. About a block or so into this little stroll, Rory let go of the balloon and it floated right out of his hand. Tragedy! Rory screamed, arched his back, kicked his arms and legs, laid on the ground (a crowded NYC sidewalk, naturally) and, in all, made a complete spectacle of the two of us. Please note that while this show of displeasure was going on, the balloon was TIED to the stroller, not even a foot over his head. All right, chicken soup for the soul, I get it; there’s a lesson in that for me too.
