Another example of my overestimating my children's abilities ...
Since I had Analise, I have experimented with several options for transporting all three children so we can walk to local events at the library, church, etc.
My first inclination was to put Lucas (3) and Nicolas (2) in the stroller and Analise in the Baby Bjorn. This works pretty well, aside from the fact that:
1. Lucas is 2 lbs over the stroller weight limit (a fact I'm not entirely worried about ... unlike my strict adherence to car seat weight limits) and barely fits in the stroller. He looks a bit like a clown squeezed into a mini car.
2. Altogether I am pushing around 80 pounds of little boy weight while wearing 11 lbs of baby on my chest. This is not such a bad thing ... makes for a better workout.
3. Analise is totally exposed to the heat and sun, hanging from the front of my chest, and I have her additional padding making an already warm day downright hot. I counter by dressing her in long pants and sleeves and big hat.
Next I tried Nicolas and Analise in the stroller and Lucas walking. This took twice as long as usual and resulted in arriving about 15 minutes late with a badly skinned knee and elbow for one tired little boy. He reminds Mommy of this every time he has to walk on a sidewalk.
So, today I had the brilliant idea to have Lucas ride our trike that has a steering handle for parents should little tykes become too tired to pedal.
We set out, Lucas happily pedaling down the hill, Nicolas and Analise comfortable in their stroller. Then we crossed the street and hit level ground.
Lucas insisted he couldn't make the trike go up the "mountain". So. he pushed it up the small incline and coasted down the hill to the walking path.
And here is where it got really crazy ...
You see, the way to the church where we attend Praise N Play is a gradual sloping incline that ends with a sharp incline. It makes for a great walk, bike ride or run.
It also makes for a very frustrated three-year-old.
I tried to have him just push with his feet Fred-Flinstone-style, but he wasn't buying it.
I had him get off and push the trike.
So, picture this mom-of-three, two months postpartum and sporting the belly to prove it, saggy white ribbed tank top, over sized black shorts and tennis shoes, dripping with sweat, pushing a double stroller (you know, the Graco kind that fit a car seat and don't steer for anything?) with her right arm and a trike with her left as they swerve toward and away from each other, stopping every ten feet to untangle a collision, three-year-old moaning that his trike keeps hitting the stroller, two and a half month old crying because she desperately wants to fall asleep, and two-year-old gleefully bouncing up and down in his seat, yelling "Fas -er!" (which is "faster" for all you non toddler-speak folks).
We were a sight to behold.
But we made it.
And that's really all that matters.