Quarantine has given us a unique opportunity to explore our family dynamics. I’ve discovered that my son is capable of constructing complex LEGO structures independently. My daughter has shown artistic talents that surpass my expectations. My partner, too, has revealed skills as a competent auto mechanic. And yes, the dog remains adorably useless.
However, this extended time together has also highlighted some not-so-great traits. While I might have suspected their shortcomings before, spending all day together has brought them to the forefront. One glaring issue: my children are absolutely dreadful at taking walks. Imagine trying to stroll alongside a sloth, a feral cat, and a blind cow in a hilly area without sidewalks—that’s about the level of frustration I experience on our walks.
Perhaps I’m to blame for their poor walking habits. My kids are quite close in age, so I kept them in a stroller for longer than I probably should have. Now, with walking being one of the few safe activities available (since they refuse to ride bikes), we find ourselves forced to do it regularly.
A Walking Adventure
If you think I’m exaggerating, let me recount the latest walking adventure. I endeavored to get them excited about a walk around 11 a.m. Naturally, they preferred to engage in other activities, which delayed our outing by several hours and coincidentally placed it right during the hottest part of the day. This is a classic move for me: I know a family activity will likely lead to chaos, yet I proceed anyway. Life coaching is available for anyone interested.
After about ten minutes of coaxing them to put on their shoes and locating the dog’s leash, we finally set off. My son insists on wearing flip-flops for these walks, a choice that any reasonable person would deem impractical. However, the alternative—real shoes—irritates him to no end, so we relent. He also loves to walk along curbs like they’re balance beams, which would be fine if he actually had any sense of balance.
As we reached our neighbor’s house, he trips on the curb and falls, sending his sandals flying. He cries, puts them back on, and insists that they’re “ouchy.” After a brief intervention to fix his sandals—which he somehow managed to wear incorrectly—we continue.
We have a miniature dachshund, and our new neighbor happens to have two similar dogs from the same breeder. My daughter was looking forward to seeing them, but of course, they weren’t home. She took this news hard, collapsing on the ground and crying that she wanted to go home. At this point, we were merely four houses away from our own, it was scorching hot, and both kids had already cried. I, being the empathetic parent I am, urged them to pull it together and keep moving.
They walk at a pace that could make a snail look like a racehorse. I know children are slower than adults, but I’ve witnessed other kids cover ground more efficiently. My children take these minuscule steps, resembling a Paso Fino horse but without any speed or elegance. They also have a remarkable talent for stopping dead in their tracks whenever they spot something mildly interesting. This would be acceptable if they resumed walking after their impromptu pauses, but instead, they freeze like malfunctioning robots.
My son trips twice more and loses his sandals four times. They both express panic over a “scary bug.” We stand by a sewer drain for five minutes because they think they might see a crocodile. When I finally insist we move on, they act as if I’ve just shattered a lifelong dream.
Eventually, we reach the spot where we can feed the ducks—the only part of the walk they were genuinely excited about. Unsurprisingly, there were no ducks to be found.
We turn back home, and Jimmy manages to only lose his sandals one more time. Sadie wonders why I’m forcing her to endure this torturous walk. We nearly misplaced the dog, and everyone kept stepping on her. After what felt like a grueling cross-country expedition, we finally returned home, having completed a mere three-quarters of a mile.
Despite the unpleasantness, I will continue these walks, knowing they are essential for my children’s health and development. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to take a walk—by myself. I hear there’s a crocodile in the sewer I’d like to meet.
Further Reading
For further insights on parenting and family engagement, check out this helpful resource on pregnancy and home insemination. If you’re interested in home insemination kits, this guide provides valuable information. And for more relatable content, visit another post that explores similar parenting challenges.
Summary
Family walks can be a source of frustration for parents, especially when children struggle with simple tasks like putting on shoes or walking at a reasonable pace. Despite the challenges, these outings are important for their health and offer opportunities for family bonding.
Leave a Reply