A Park, Lots of Clothes and A Fall

Sunday morning as we arrived back from an unfruitful and therefore very disappointing donut run, we ran into our new neighbors.  Our friends across the street were taking their boys to play and invited us to join them.  Anece gave us street directions and then said, “It’s a great little park.  Some people in the neighborhood donated the land and toys.  The kids love it and this is a perfect day to go.” I should have had red flags right then.  I should have gone with my instinct, run inside and not come out.  Although sunny and clear, it was 41 degrees with a windchill of 36.  How does that in any way qualify as a perfect day to be outside?  As he’s speaking, I’m watching his wife climb in the car with her North Face gear and hat with ear covers!  But as usual, I was outnumbered. Brynna and David were about to jump out of their skin with excitement, so the bundling began.  We bundled Brynna and David put on his coat.  (That’s all he needs.  He’s a man.)  Meanwhile, I bundled me in leggings, jeans, thick socks, tall fur-lined boots, a shirt tucked in, a fur-lined jacket with a hood and a coat.  (My version of cold-weather clothing is just more clothing.)  We squeezed ourselves into the car and headed for Clemyjontri park.  After Anece’s explanation that it had been donated, I had visions of a cute little park with some swings, maybe a slide and that thing that you sit on and someone spins you until you feel sick or fall off.  You know the one.  What we arrived at was not “cute.”  Really, to use the word “park” for this place is a bit insulting.  It’s like calling Disney World a “play area.”  Clemyjontri is on 2 acres, has 4 sectioned “rooms” with more playground equipment than I’ve ever seen in my life, a maze big enough for adults to walk through, 2 covered picnic areas and full restroom facilities.  And, oh yeah, a carousel.  Who has a carousel in the middle of a park?!  Even Brynna, who’s always up for playing outside and doesn’t usually care where, was a bit overwhelmed by it all.

We started with the swings – because that’s what Brynna does – and worked our way around.  After about 45 minutes, we came to one big piece of equipment and BG informed us (as is her new custom), “I’ll do it.” She trotted off while David chatted with Anece about how there was still so much snow left on the playground.  (Maybe another indicator it wasn’t a perfect day for the park?!?)  I kept an eye on BG from the ground but after a few moments heard the familiar “Mommy!” and went to rescue her from what appeared to be a traffic jam.  Brynna had committed a playground foul, stopped at the top of the swinging bridge and blocked the flow of kids trying to get up and down the steps.  Two four-year old boys were in process of mowing her down, so I grabbed her up and headed in the only direction possible at that point – across the bridge.  You could say we didn’t make it across.  You could say Brynna’s fears of the swinging bridge were confirmed.  Or, you could just say Regina ate it in front of dozens of kids and parents.  That’s right, sports fans.  I put one wet boot on the wet rubber bridge and that was the end of that.  I was holding Brynna with both hands to protect her from hitting anything, so I never had a chance to try and save my own body (or dignity).  I landed hard on my left elbow that now sports a lovely bruise bigger than any I’ve ever had.  (And I’ve had a few bruises.  This is not my first public fall.)  Although I literally sacrificed my body to protect hers, apparently the fall was terrifying for Brynna and reason to cry as though she were the one wondering if a piece of bone had broken free in her arm.  I took the opportunity to console her while still sprawled in the middle of the swinging bridge in hopes that passers-by might think my child fell and I was merely rendering aid.  When I regained a bit of feeling in my left arm and Brynna calmed the siren drawing even more attention, I gathered us up and attempted to quickly exit the jungle gym.  Just my luck, I was on the one piece of equipment that had no end so I had to wind my way round and round through the audience members of my little show.

I knew I should have stayed inside where it was warm.