We arrived in Berlin Thursday (I think that’s two days ago now, but I’m more than a little befuddled from jet lag). As we settle in, I’m trying to envision what will keep the Bear happy this summer, apart from “big” but occasional outings like the science museum. In the past, I could schlep both kids to a playground. The city’s chockfull of them, and they’d both happily play like piglets in mud (often literally) while I read a book for work or pleasure.
Last summer, the Bear would set out excitedly, but within five minutes he’d announce: “Mama. I’m bored.” His peers were scarcely to be found on the playground. He has a small but nice circle of German friends, but those play dates usually require organizing, not spontaneity. Especially once school lets out for summer, the playgrounds are dominated by the preschool set.
And frankly, the play equipment – even the thirty-foot tunnel slide shaped like a ship – has begun to shrink for him, as playgrounds universally do by the time a child turns 9 or 10. As it did for me, and I suspect for you, too.
The Tiger is still young enough to love playgrounds. He’s also completely undeterred by his monkey-bars incident of last winter. His left humerus has healed beautifully, and he’s regained his former confidence too. We can’t not go to the playground.
So maybe this summer the Bear will bring a book, too, and we’ll both read and giggle over the little creatures. Especially when they look a bit like these guys:
Proof positive that parenting is easier when the spawn arrive as singletons, not in a litter. (And to my friends who’ve managed multiples without access to teeth and claws: woo hoo! You have my serious respect.)
My husband wondered who was “making” the kittens go down the slide. Ha ha!
What’s next for these little fluffballs? Why, of course they decide they must learn to go up the slide, like two-year-old hoomans obsessively do.
Their cuteness is their salvation. (My kids knew/know that, too.)
Happy Caturday, all! Or, in the local lingo: Schöner Katertag, allerseits!