Park Politics

Apparently the park is a place for the cool moms to hang out.  I was not aware of this, as I am not a cool mom.  Today, I made Eli take a long walk with me in exchange for the promise of an extended play time at the park.  He patiently sat in his wobbly stroller while I huffed and puffed around the lake (that is, after I had to drag him screaming from the house because he didn't want to go outside or do anything that had to do with fun).  As we walked up to the park, I saw there were already kids playing there.  It can be awkward if you are a little anti-social, as I am,  to have your child interact with another kid and be forced to talk to the brat's mom.  As more moms arrived at the park, I noticed they all had three things in common:  Starbucks cups, nice clothes, and designer sunglasses.  I took a mental survey of what I was wearing:  wrinkly pants that are 2 sizes too big, old brown t-shirt that is too small these days, no sunglasses, no Starbucks cup.  Great!  I already felt inferior.  I would just have to use my kid to make me feel better.  He must be more athletic than your designer kids.  Wait, my kid is the one that is afraid to go down the slide when your two kids are passing him up and flinging themselves down.  One boy kept trying to get Eli to play with him, but since Eli is an only child, he had no understanding of "Follow the Leader" or "Hide-and-Seek".  Instead, he is more of a laborer.  He quickly busied himself with finding all the suitable sticks in the park for an intricate building project which he would soon embark on.  He also needed to test the durability of said sticks by throwing them down the slides today.  I generally just observe him and keep him from walking off the side of a platform.  

As the other boy took more interest in what Eli was doing, he picked up a few of Eli's sticks and immediately a shrill screech came through the air, "CADE!  Put down those sticks!  You could poke your eye!"  Eli was standing right next to the boy and I was letting him play freely with the  eye-gouging sticks.  It's not like he was running with spears in his hands, he was standing still, or carrying them to a slide.  I felt like she was not only reprimanding Cade, but my parenting skills too.  I chose not to check Eli's behavior.  Let him play with sticks!  He did, however get a slight scolding when he began chucking the sticks (probably to test their aerodynamics).  Poor Cade got yelled at least three more times for stick infractions as he was copying Eli's permissible actions.

As the yelling mom was packing her kids up to go home (likely to escape more negative influence at the park), Eli turned to me suddenly and said "I gotta go potty!"  My rebellious spirit flared.  Should I allow my child to pee on a tree at the park in front of this disapproving woman?  There were no available toilets in the park, what other choice did I have?  Finally, my good sense won out and I scooped my kid up and ran for the car.  As we were fleeing, I saw the strict mom give her 4-year-old a sip from her Starbucks cup.  Who was the bad mom now?  I brow beat her and judged her as I ran.  Eli's impressive bladder made it to grandma and grandpa's house that was one block away.  

To reward him, I took him to Dunkin' Donuts for a doughnut hole (wait!  Crap!  does that make me the bad mom again?)

Here are some pictures of my little stick-thrower from a few minutes ago.  I cut his hair this morning and as usual, got a little short on the crown.  He looks like a miniature Mark Clinton.