Walking on sunshine

It was sunny and "warm" yesterday and we (okay, I) were sooo ready to get out of the house. Uncle Seth had entertained us Sunday afternoon, blessedly breaking up the monotony of a work filled weekend for Ethan. But we (okay, I) were really ready to Not crawl around on the carpet with toys. I swear, every day we stayed in, P became less able to spend 2 seconds without me as entertainment until the last few days were just 12 hour stretches of the Mama Show: starring: One Reluctant Mama. Hanging out with your adorable offspring is a dream come true, and yet, by the end of last week I had to say things to myself like "well, we don't have dengue fever," and "at least we don't live in Antarctica" to keep my spirits up.

So I announced upon awakening Monday that we were headed out of the house. Having forgotten that such a thing could be enjoyable, P insured me he was going nowhere that pajamas weren't de riguer. I enlisted back-up, slyly calling his buddy Malek to join us and chatting excitedly with Baby Brother about our plans. Pushing the stroller to the zoo, it felt a little pathetic to be so pleased about out-smarting a 3 year old, but I'd bet the silly grin had something to do with my body finally storing up Vitamin D again.

We were only up for a small outing so we had a picnic at our neighborhood zoo and played in the groundhog tunnels. Phoenix teased Baby Brother that there was a Minotaur in the tunnels/labyrinth with menacing growls that turned to shrieks of laughter when Baby Brother cowered behind me. After playing in the eggs and a brief look at the baby kangaroo (realllly cute!) the boys took to fencing with long sticks, ignoring the animals. Malek went home for a nap and P and I walked through the park to do some more sword play.

Ahh, the spawn of the 2 pacifists. I can hear my gun toting family cackling as I type. While P doesn't, technically, know what a gun is, yet, he saw the spear carrying Neanderthal at the NHM and then the huntsman in Snow White - both of which seem to have adequately enamored him with swords. Fortunately for P, I enjoy smacking sticks around while shouting "hi-yah", so we found a sunny spot and sparred. He found a shorter sword for Baby Brother and the three of us went to. Then we sat for a snack and P started pouring dirt and mulch on his fairly filthy playmate. With the damage already done, I held my tongue and he found fiendish enjoyment in stuffing mud in BB's eyes. It wasn't the first time I've noticed P's strange laughing tendencies. While I know he's a fairly happy child, he doesn't just walk around chuckling. In fact, the only time I can count on a laugh is when he's torturing Baby Brother. So at 34 I finally understand the Road Runner. Most annoying cartoon in the world, or so I thought as a child. P would Love it. He's the kid they drop the anvil for - a smushed coyote would have him rolling in the aisles. So, with each shriek of indignation from Baby Brother, P hunkered down and dug more mud, giggling merry sounds. The warm sun, the sweet sounds of laughter, the absence of plastic dinosaurs and their demands, it was really quite lovely. As long as I didn't wonder what Jeffrey Dahmer was like as a kid :)