The Long Road Home: Adventures in Urban Living

Today, it takes us 45 minutes to walk the half mile that it takes to get from the boys' kita to home. I have my 2 year old, Zak, holding the handle on one side of the stroller who insists on walking ever so s.l.o.w.l.y beside it, and my able-bodied 4 year old, Bucker, perched in the front of the stroller, legs haphazardly dangling over the tray that's supposed to secure a small baby. Across the back of the stroller is an umbrella stroller, a feeble attempt that morning to encourage Bucker to walk to school rather than adding 50 pounds of weight to an already loaded stroller and getting lots of awkward stares. And just to be clear, my Joovy sit and stand stroller has become my car, my grocery cart, and my mover of all things too heavy to lug through the streets, so I had taken it to the grocery and loaded up on the way to retrieve the boys from kita, which is how I ended up with both the umbrella stroller and the prized double stroller that day.

Underneath the stroller is my loot from the grocery store, including 4 liters of milk, which we always manage to run out of since a liter size is the only size offered, 2 bottles laundry detergent, something that resembles dishwasher tabs that I'm hoping I guessed right on, and enough produce, bread, canned goods and veggies to last at least two days. And that's not all. On the back of the stroller is a package of diapers labeled XXL (a.k.a have you really not potty trained your child yet??) that I picked up from the DM, the local drugstore that I've grown quite fond of, and on my giant hook on the stroller handle, I've shamelessly hooked a 12 pack of "Ja" brand eco-friendly toilet paper. We love the "Ja" brand, as it's usually always the cheapest, and that comes in handy when you run through toilet paper, laundry detergent, and other such commodities as fast as we do. We're also quite embarrassed that it took us several months to discover that the brand is pronounced "Ya" rather than "Jaaa" (with a slight Southern twang on the "aa").

But I digress. During the half mile separating us from home, Bucker pushes Zak for a bit in the umbrella stroller until he fails to pop the front wheels up to get onto the curb and poor Zak is propelled forward onto the pavement. After the screaming subsides from that unfortunate incident, Zak decides he should push Bucker in the umbrella stroller, in which Bucker exceeds the weight limit by about 20 pounds. Unfortunately, Zak hasn't figured out that when pushing the stroller, you must look in the direction you are pushing rather than at your feet, so he crashes Bucker into a flower bed/tree, which is notoriously scattered with dog waste in our neighborhood. We then pass by the bakery where once a week, usually on Fridays, we stop in and the boys are allowed one item, be it a pastry or a coveted "chocolate egg" with a small toy inside. Much to Zak's dismay, today is not bakery day, and he finds it appropriate to sit on the sidewalk in front of the bakery's patrons trying to enjoy a quiet coffee al fresco and scream, "I want a cwoklate eggggg!" After attempting to reason with him and trying my best to avoid eye contact with the coffee sippers, I pick up Zak, screaming and stiff, and haul him under one arm, the loaded stroller with the other, and a snickering Bucker in tow.

Now Zak is a mostly good, kind-hearted child, but he is two, and lately he's having a very hard time accepting the word "no", so he proceeds to scream about the chocolate egg the entire journey home, his screams echoing between the old apartment buildings that line the cobblestone streets. And then I make another mistake; distracted by Zak's tantrum, I forget to cross the street to avoid the cute bookstore that always has a tempting display of children's books and small toys outside. Bucker is incapable of walking past the store without stopping to look, despite my coach-like chanting "keep walking", "keep walking", so there's typically a scene here since he'll find something he wants and attempts to walk off with it, which inevitably leads to the store manager coming outside and giving us nasty looks (you'd think she would know us by now). Today is no exception, and the cute plush bear sticking his head out of a box was just too tempting to pass up, as Bucker clutches it and attempts to take it home. After prying the bear away from Bucker under the ever-suspicious eye of the store manager, we continue our journey.

At this point, we're a mere two blocks from our doorstep when Bucker spies the park that we pass on our way, fondly referred to by the boys as "the jumping things" park due to it's mini trampolines that they love. Before I can find an appropriate threat to keep them walking toward home, Bucker is off and running toward the trampolines, Zak forgets to continue screaming about the chocolate egg and runs after him, and I'm left standing with the loaded stroller while the groceries inside slowly get warmer in the sun. After conceding to let them play for 5 minutes, I manage to round them up with a bit of bribery, and we make it to the door of our building. Smooth sailing from here on out, right? Think again...

There's a door opener buzzer that you can push beside the building's door that automatically buzzes the door open during normal business hours, and for awhile, I had taught Bucker to push the button and open the door for me. This worked beautifully until Zak realized that he was missing out on pushing the button, so now there's a mad dash to the door buzzer, and a fight over pushing the button before I can manage to referee them, which leads to one of the boys jerking the door open (usually Bucker), and inevitably Zak walks into the tile floored, high ceiling area which is closed off by another set of doors before you reach the elevator and lets out an ear-piercing squeal, which the excellent acoustic qualities of the room magnify to temporarily deafen me and anyone unlucky enough to be passing through with us. There are two more buttons to battle over in the elevator, and then, yes then, we reach our door step.

I open the door and feel the cool Spring breeze flowing through our humble apartment, kick my shoes off and feel the cool tile floor beneath my tired feet, and for a peaceful second, I remind myself how lucky I am that I have the opportunity to experience this life in this place with my two healthy, beloved children, spirited as they may be. As different as my life is now from what it was, I know this is a good place for our family, and we're making our way, one 45 minute walk home at a time.

And then there's a scream over a toy not shared, dinner that needs cooking, and warm groceries waiting....

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Do you have any stories to share about a simple task that turns out to be "not so simple"?