I've been noticing that some of the chil'rens were not falling asleep for at least an hour of being bathed and sent to bed. I have two that hit the pillow and they are out. Then I have a couple of stragglers. Then I have the two that will try to outlast Michael and I.
It's pretty ridiculous.
One of them is my oldest. I shudder to think of some of the things he may contemplate doing whilst laying up in his bed, mind wandering, trying to fall asleep. So I'm thinking they need to get some more physical activity so they can crash out when they are supposed to.
They are totally over the trampoline. They only enjoy it when company is over and they can cage fight, scratch their nuts and funk up the house with their armpit stench. They ride bikes and I know they'd love to ride them more but, this mama is a little paranoid of child molesters, crystal meth being sold as strawberry pop rocks, child trafficking and that Saturday night movie back in '91 where the little boy gets hit by a car and is dragged down the street for a few blocks before the driver realizes he ran over someone.
Yes, those are the things that race across my mind when the chil'rens ask to ride their bikes out of the driveway.
Sad, I know.
So what is a mama to do?
It's pretty clear they need to blow off some steam. I've decided to take them to the park 2-3 times a week. For an hour, if that. I told them they could play or ride their scooters. And, oh! We should have a "race" around the track! I suggested this as innocently as possible, as if it was just this spontaneous idea that popped into my mind. I could time them on my stopwatch. The person with the best time would be the "winner" for the day, fastest Cortes and hold bragging rights. And if I have money in my pocket, an ice cream cone!
They were all for it.
Sometimes they are just too easy.
I even had old wheezy Diego out there, exercising his lungs. The chil'rens are nothing if not super cutthroat in competition with one another. To some it came easy, and they could run about two laps without walking. It didn't come as easily to others. One ran like he had his toes tied together. Another looked like a newborn colt that needed to be put out of his misery.
But the whole time I'm smiling and cheering them on. :-)
And the winner was...Diego...old man wheezy...or as his brothers like to call him, General Grievous. This should give you an idea of how unaccustomed to running the chil'rens are. Diego? For reals? Heh.
But, yay.
A good time was had by all. They had fresh air and a place to stretch their legs. I can't ask for more than that.
