Once upon a time I felt that the park was full of stressors, both internal and external. Jonah is my firstborn so we have transcended many a milestone together over the past 6 years. I'd always assumed that the park setting with all of the crunchy mommies sporting their pricey Baby Bjorn slings, jogging strollers, and Kate Spade diaper bags was the most idyllic place that I could ever take my baby. It seemed like the logical base to set my child up for stratified ascension as he transcended the boundaries of home for the real world...even if the real world only entailed a few unsanitary outside play toys.
Nonetheless, the park scene was far more intimidating than I could ever have possibly imagined, particularly when Jo was a toddler. There would inevitably be older kids running amok (it's a park, what did I really expect) and I was perpetually concerned that my little one would end up being trampled by that herd of feral childbeasts. Not only that, but they wouldn't take turns on the various playground toys. The older set of children were the kings of their realm, and all I could do was watch as my hatchling ambled around in search of something that was not being completely monopolized by the playground bourgeoisie.
To top that lovely scene, I found myself to have the social graces of a young Roseanne Barr. What? I spent months avoiding the general public because I didn't want my child to catch the RSV-SIDS-Ebola-Whooping Cough-Mumps-Tuburculosisitis. I was only being a good moooooom. But somewhere throughout the process of good intention, I managed to lose my vocabulary, manners, and ability to fluidly carry on a simple conversation. Honestly, I'm still not exactly sure how that happened. Four years for a language degree, understanding the complexities and nuances of English at large (both written and spoken---because I'm fancy), can indeed be completely undone by the act of pushing a minihuman out of your vagina. Yes, a few hours can undo years of learning. Having a baby is a lot like having a social stroke. For all of these reasons, approaching the playground mommies was unbelievably daunting to me. I wanted mommy friends so bad, but they were all shiny and posh and I was reduced to sit in the corner longingly staring at them with a little drool hanging out of my mouth. I'm sure that my awkwardness helped my cause tons.
Don't worry. It doesn't stay like that forever. Your senses slowly start coming back and your child learns to take up for himself with the older kids. By the time Jonah was around 4 or so, my worries had all but dissipated about him being trampled into a Jo mudhole. Somewhere along the way, I found words and the ability to communicate with the public again. I still have a bit of anxiety about my first experiences with the park mommies, but I come prepared now with crocheting or crafting projects. I've found that it is much easier to just keep to myself and be approached by others (and, strangely, that is happening more frequently). I really enjoy the park these days. It has become a place of relaxation, where I can feel at peace without the fear of my child being squished or shoving a foreign object into his nose. My greatest desire is to hold on to these coping mechanisms after the birth of baby #2. Who knows...I could completely revert and be an embarrassment to the oldest. It's a toss up.
Here are some candids I took at the park yesterday. I just used my iPhone but I couldn't resist. Maybe it's the bright colors of the playground equipment. Oh, and yes, my child is wearing a turtle shell because...well because...
xo, Karee
No Mom! I will not make eye contact!
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