sandbox
So isn't the sandbox supposed to be something that you just go out back and play in?
It was finally a warmish day so we go to the sandbox, right? Only it's a car trip across the island, there's no place to park so we take turns driving in circles with a sleeping Ur while Im plays in the sandbox. Finally (miraculously) there's a parking spot and I let Ur wake up so we can all be in the sandbox together. There are tons of kids, parents and nannies and our toys scatter in minutes. Im is overtired, but trooping on - a little slow, but still good-natured. Our 'sitdown' on the sunny benches by the river is cut short by diesel fumes from the boats idling at the ferry landing. But on Im tromps, all the way around to the swings and the basketball court (where we shoot her first hoop), and finally back to the sandbox for a couple more trips down the slide and once around the high bridges (she climbs the ladder all by herself, bless her heart). We decide to pass on the suspiciously empty, unjapanese-looking sushi bar (the only thing around... what's up with that? this is supposed to be NY - but its actually a soulless high-rise development with a great sandbox), and head home. Only a little crying and consternation as we weave our way back through patches of gridlock. A three minute walk from the car to the building, not bad. Four flights and home. This is what passes for a good afternoon. That sounds a little bitter - but you know, its not. It was a good afternoon. I just have to stop and wonder. NY is strange, annoying, overwhelming, and quite astonishing.
she was very pleased she could do the whole circuit by herself.
in case you missed the expression above here it is again...
It was finally a warmish day so we go to the sandbox, right? Only it's a car trip across the island, there's no place to park so we take turns driving in circles with a sleeping Ur while Im plays in the sandbox. Finally (miraculously) there's a parking spot and I let Ur wake up so we can all be in the sandbox together. There are tons of kids, parents and nannies and our toys scatter in minutes. Im is overtired, but trooping on - a little slow, but still good-natured. Our 'sitdown' on the sunny benches by the river is cut short by diesel fumes from the boats idling at the ferry landing. But on Im tromps, all the way around to the swings and the basketball court (where we shoot her first hoop), and finally back to the sandbox for a couple more trips down the slide and once around the high bridges (she climbs the ladder all by herself, bless her heart). We decide to pass on the suspiciously empty, unjapanese-looking sushi bar (the only thing around... what's up with that? this is supposed to be NY - but its actually a soulless high-rise development with a great sandbox), and head home. Only a little crying and consternation as we weave our way back through patches of gridlock. A three minute walk from the car to the building, not bad. Four flights and home. This is what passes for a good afternoon. That sounds a little bitter - but you know, its not. It was a good afternoon. I just have to stop and wonder. NY is strange, annoying, overwhelming, and quite astonishing.
she was very pleased she could do the whole circuit by herself.
in case you missed the expression above here it is again...