Forced chillin'

(Hot stuff.)

I organized a play date for my neighbor gals/workout moms (WOMs) today at an Arlington sprayground. That's right- a playground with a sprinkler-type area where water shoots out of different holes and swirls around, changing positions periodically. It's a good time for kids, plus there are two jungle gyms, a picnic area, swings and a big sandbox. I try to organize something for us to do weekly to have something to look forward to with my sweet neighbors and their cute kiddos.

So, Hunter had no interest in getting wet and almost immediately headed over to the sandbox area, where he played with other children and by himself. He's taking after his daddy because he enjoys playing by himself, although they both enjoy others, too. His mama is an extreme extrovert. (Side note: Thank you, God, for making me who I am.)

So, after Hunter filled his mouth with sand, by trying to get the sand out of his mouth with his sand-saturated hands, I told him it was time to rinse off. He began by protesting, telling me he didn't want to get wet. I knew this was going to be difficult, but my hatred for dirt made me pres on. I put a smile on my face, encouraged Hunter that everything was going to be okay and we (I) gleefully approached the spraying area.

I knew there would be a scene but I was really hoping it would abate after a few moments of encouragement. Much to my dismay, I drag Hunter, my smile in place, over to a sprinkling area to rid him of his sand infestation. He proceeds to scream as if I were peeling his skin off with acid but I hold strong, determined that sand will not take over my car. I decide, "Honey, let's count to ten to get the sand off." He persists in his screaming, but I count, remaining strong, smiling all the while. "Ten. All done. Good job, sweetie." I look around, not sure if someone is calling CPS but, besides some people watching looks, I think I did okay.

I sit Hunter down on a bench to dry off and talk him back to sanity and what bothered him so much about the spray. Although I never did get an intelligible response as to what he afraid, I decide he just didn't want all of the water shooting at him, maybe it was too much to take in for him. Who knows?

He was cool, though. We talked about it on the way home and he knew I wasn't trying to scare him but simply wanted to get all the yucky sand off of him. He even repeated the story to Mark, so I don't think I did any permanent damage. Phew! Another close call for therapy.

Checking out his new bubble blower.

J.J. and mama Pam

Patty with one of her girls, Maggie, and Hunter