Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Of Colds and Conspiracies

Hi little blog. It's been awhile. Happy New Year! I am only twenty-two days late.

2013 started off by kicking me in the butt with an icky, awful cold. Just as I was starting to feel better, my husband got sick, the details of which I will not share here. Let's just say 2013 could be called the Year of the Toilet Scrub.

Then a week-long cold snap invaded our town. Like, below-freezing temperatures every night. We had to break up the ice in our horses' water every morning, cover our plants at night to keep them from freezing to death, and bundle up in hats, scarves, and multiple layers to play outside.

I bet some of you are thinking, "Yeah, that is what we do all winter long."

Well, we don't. Our temperatures are now back into the blissful 70s, and I finally feel warm again.

There is a reason I live in the desert.

To celebrate the nice weather and get out of the house, I took Brown-Eyed Boy with me to an outlet mall yesterday in my hunt for the perfect pair of boots. This particular outlet mall has those brightly-colored carousels and trucks and boats strategically placed in the middle of the sidewalk, the ones that cost from 75 cents to a dollar to make them go around or rock back and forth or whatever it is that they are meant to do.

I think this is a conspiracy to make parents feel guilty. Because of course every time he saw one, Brown-Eyed Boy wanted out of his stroller and onto the ride. And of course, I, the unprepared parent, did not have an ounce of spare change on my person. Thankfully, Brown-Eyed Boy is still at that age when just clambering in and out of the cars and boats provided plenty of entertainment. But I kept thinking how much cooler a mom I would be if I had a stinking three quarters in my pocket to provide my son a minute of fun and enjoyment.

Then I watched a cool dad plunk his child and 75 cents into one of the rides, a truck that made driving noises and rocked back and forth. And ten seconds later the terrified child wanted out. As they walked away, Brown-Eyed Boy pointed toward the still-moving truck. And I thought, Well, why not?

So I got to be a cool parent for thirty seconds.

Or until Brown-Eyed Boy decided he wanted out, too.

So we went to play at the park.

It's free.

Being cool is overrated,
The Brown-Eyed Girl