We are very lucky to live literally right across the street from the elementary school.
We walk every day. Even if it's a little rainy. We don't melt. That's only when it's 95 degrees out. Rain? Bring it.
I actually enjoy the walk home, when Sawyer tells me all about the latest kindergarten drama. Who got in trouble for talking too much. Who barfed on the table. Which girl(s) he's going to marry. The usual.
If David is not available to help with pickup, and it's a Tuesday or Thursday when Sage is not at preschool, I pack X into the stroller and the three of us walk down the hill and across the street.
The other day Sage, upon realizing that Daddy was in Los Angeles, told me she was going to be "too tired" to walk to get Sawyer. This is, mind you, three hours before we had to leave. This girl is nothing if not prepared.
She actually appeared quite awake to me as we played that morning. I did not notice droopy eyes. There was no yawning. But I kept waiting for her to doze off into her bowl of goldfish crackers or snore as she sat on the floor playing with her baby brother.
Because she was going to be So. Tired.
Then it was time to get her big brother. And exactly on cue, the complaining started.
She cried as I loaded X into his stroller. She apparently held out hope I would take our double, but since this would entail my pushing three of them back up the hill on the way home - as Sawyer would no doubt insist on hitching a ride - I never even considered it.
We walked down around the corner of our street while she cried. Cried. Cried. I pointed out that we were taking the SINGLE stroller and crying was not going to change it. That worked about as well as you can imagine.
She eventually got distracted and, bless her exhausted little self, soon was racing down the hill, chasing lizards.
You will not believe this, but on the way home? She was chatting away with Sawyer, skipping up the hill and around the corner and up our street.
And just before we got there, right on the sidewalk in front of our house, you know what she said?
"Mommy? These are 'not whining' shoes. And that's why I didn't whine about being tired."
Unfortunately, their magic wore off as the day went on. Still, she loves her new sparkly shoes so much she decided they made everything so much better. And they did, even if it was just for a walk home.
But I'm wondering: what is my equivalent to her not whining shoes? What do I put on that makes me forget about being tired or grumpy? What are YOUR not whining shoes?