These two boys are almost too big to play at the park, I'm afraid. I could see the parents of babies and young ones watching them today, hoping that their respect matched their boundless energy. It does, thank goodness, and they were good sports about being surrounded by endless toddlers, but after 15 minutes both of them returned to my side saying that they were ready to go home. They are constantly punching and touching and yelling and fighting and yet today at the park I was just so grateful that they have each other.
Quinny zips from one side of the park to another faster than I can follow. She's always making new friends, usually with boys a few years older than her. They play superhero or chase each other or on days like today, she spins around with those older kids a million times at light speed. "It's like I'm having a brain attack when I spin around," she said. And I understood, I felt the same way just watching her.
On our way to the park Coco looked at me through the rearview mirror and said, "Are you so excited to push me on the swing?" I don't know what kind of psychology books this girl is reading but it worked and I found myself with this view for much longer than I anticipated. She's so content being the baby and loves being pampered, and I know that future me is going to be very angry that I'm not better at nipping this in the bud. When my arms had finally had enough she jumped off the swing, grabbed my hand and said, "What should we do now together?" I'm wrapped, you guys.
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