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I thought I was coming down with whatever weird virus Pierce had earlier this week, and I still don’t feel great, but whatever it is, it’s only annoying—not debilitating, thank God.  But none-the-less, Michael picked yesterday to turn a deaf ear on everything I said, find every single one of my buttons and push them, and force me into being the hollering mom I don’t like to be.  I sound like the wife beater, “If you just wouldn’t make me so mad, I wouldn’t beat you!”

It’s been spring break this week, and last weekend we did some fun stuff, but since the Universal Studios debacle, one of us hasn’t been feeling good on any given day, so I imagine there’s a little cabin fever taking over.  I told Daddy yesterday, that I would like if he could take the boys outside to play when he got home from work since they were like caged animals.  His response was, “Okay, maybe we can all go for a walk when I get home and wear them out if you’re feeling up to it.”  Yeah…not what I was asking, but I felt well enough when the time came to walk to the gazebo and feed the ducks and turtles.

Dad’s bright idea was to let Michael ride his big wheel, which means his little legs would get a good mile of pedaling in, and thus become tired.  The bad part was the concern of any one of us being hit by him and his poor driving manners, but we survived.   

When we got to the busier street, we separated, Daddy and Mike on the sidewalk, and Pierce and I cutting across this field by a brick wall—eventually meeting up at the lake.

We fed bread to “The Posse” and about 15 turtles.  Then we watched Michael  jump off the benches and tried to take photos of him mid flight.  Daddy got to witness the behavior I had been subjected to all day, too. 

Then it was time to go, and we separated again.  Pierce was great this time, not wanting to hold my hand, he decided to lie down and cry.  I carried him like a football (which he really enjoyed, and by really enjoyed, I mean hated) until we were out of possibility of getting in the street, or falling and rolling down the knoll right into the lake.  Then I set him down and we were on our way walking along the brick wall.  I noticed he was walking pretty close to it while looking back over his shoulder, so I warned him to watch where he was going, because every 8’ or so a brick column jutted out about 6”.  He adjusted, so on we went.  I got about 4’ ahead of him while he was lollygagging, and heard him screech.  When I turned he was sitting on the ground crying—he’d walked into the corner of the brick column (guess I saw that one coming even though he didn’t.)  Poor kid got quite a scrape and lump on his forehead, so I carried and consoled, and we hugged and snuggled until he was feeling independent again.  It wasn’t long before he was back to his ugly old self not wanting to hold my hand to cross the street.  We did, finally, arrive home, though with only a few bumps and bruises to his head and my parenting skills—far behind Greg and Mikey.

Here are the pictures of a whole bunch of turtles and Mikey mid flight!

 

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