The downside to having only one kid is that for the first 2 years or so, it's hard to have a play date. All the cool moms in my neighborhood have more than one kid (and a nanny, mind you). This means their schedule revolves around the older child, and they just drag the younger one along for a ride. All the great playgroups are from 9:30 to noon, as are the informal gatherings in my neighborhood.  Since The Bees naps from 10 to 11-ish, we can never seem to join in on the fun. Instead, we head out in the afternoon to play by ourselves.

Playgrounds are really great for kids over 2. They can climb on the jungle gym, run around, ride the little push cars. For younger ones though, the playground is at best a limited interest, and at worse, a treacherous territory.

At just over a year, the only the thing The Bees can do is swing in a bucket swing for about 2 minutes and 55 seconds until she starts yowling to get out. And then she can totter 5 steps, crouch down, pick up wood chips and eat them.
 
Often I take her to Guy Mason Park which is nearby and has bucket swings. Another favorite is Turtle Park, a popular place for the cool moms I know. After Spanish class ended last week we were in the neighborhood so we headed over to Turtle.  I parked and immediately spotted a nanny driving a kid from our music class. I have never seen most of the mothers of these kids. It seems in Washington DC, nannies do the bulk of the mothering. Which is not necessarily a bad thing, if you ask me on a difficult day.

We walked around the fence – they make it very hard for kids to get out, and consequently, for adults to get in. I glanced at the scene around me. Crying babies, children clamoring for another more push on the swing. A mother doling out cheerios, eating a desultory ham sandwich.

The kids on the swings were pumping so high and so fast that The Bees looked stunned.  On the jungle gym 6-year olds chased each other, running and leaping and swooping down the slide.  When the coast was clear I held her up on the top and slid her down, holding her waist, skittering her little rubber heels as we went. Astonishingly she liked it, and hopped up for another go. I soon discovered she likes hiking back up almost as much as sliding down. The bigger kids came along shouting, pushing and chasing each other, and they catapulted themselves down the slide – a little too rough and tumble for us. So that lasted about 3 minutes.

I find playground fashion to be quite dreary. The sweatpants, the old husband's old t-shirts, the droopy faded jeans, the worn heels of Dansko clogs, or chewed up Teva sandals.  I know it seems silly to dress up for a day with a kid, and certainly impractical if you dare to wear white as I did recently. However a little effort, a bright accessory, a cheerful shirt, or even some lipstick is appreciated by some people like me.

We tried the sandbox – she plopped down and licked her hands. Crunch crunch, and looked up at me. We tried riding a little truck but its wheels were so bent it couldn't move forward. "Let's give this another week" I said to The Bees. By this time she was pointing at kids eating snacks around her, and I realized that I had brought nothing. Feeling terribly guilty I packed up and we moved out, leaving the creaking swings and the shouts of the boys behind us.