TRAVEL WITH YOUR YOUNG, or.... GET BACK IN MY POCKET SO MOMMY CAN HOP FASTER, ROO!!!

They just don't move fast enough, dangit. Their butts are too close to the sidewalk, they're too young yet to be in a hurry, and last but not least, the more you hurry them up, the slower they go. My oldest has outgrown sitting in the buggy BUT he has heelies. Heelies are a wise investment for Moms who have legs that rival the length of giraffes'. My youngest can still fit in the large part of the buggy but then that precludes buying a lot because the bin's filled up with hunk of boy and no room is left for merchandise. Well then. Kills two birds with one stone. Money management AND time management. Can't beat it.

I pushed my oldest around in an umbrella stroller until he was four. Would've done it for longer except for two things. The wheels wallowed out, and people started looking at him like something was wrong with him. It was only in places where I could zip around five times as fast and keep him from getting too tired too soon (it's not all about me, no matter what you hear).

They have two jobs when we go anywhere. They must keep up with me and they must stay in front of me. These are their jobs. If one of them drifts beside or slightly behind me and I have to even turn my head a TAD to see them, they know they're in trouble. #1 will say, as his step quickens and he reclaims his space directly in front of me, I'M TRYING, I'M TRYING!!! but you're legs are soooooo darnnnnnnn loooooooong. Jr. Mint just makes a fantastic, gutteral noise that I have never, to my great consternation, been able to reproduce audibly or in writing. It sounds quite like a cross between a dog growling and a croaker frog, but as he's groaking those legs still shift into high gear and move his body back into place.

Now here's an irony. Earlier this week when I took these very same young 'uns to the Jumpy Place, I could not get out of the car fast enough for them. Couldn't keep up, couldn't get to the front door fast enough, couldn't pay for them fast enough. Mom, you're not keeping up! It's your job to keep up - come ONNNNNN!

And just as I was thinking, Now ain't this a kick in the head - how come they don't move this fast when I need 'em to????, my youngest son plants both fists on his hips, cocks his hip and stands hipshod and says, Say Mommmmmom, how come you can't move that slow when you're at the store draggin' us along at a jog?

TTFN