One mom tells us why.
momlogic's Jenny: Look. There is nothing I love more than spending time watching my son explore the world and make discoveries. And whenever we have free time, I am the first one to say "Let's go to the park!" This weekend, however, as I shielded my son from a kid who's snot looked so green, I thought he had been slimed, I realized I don't exactly love the park. I'll of course keep taking him to the park, but there are just a few things that put me on edge every time I go:
1) Birds. Any time there are remnants of goldfish and graham crackers, you can expect to see birds. Problem is, I hate birds. Unfortunately, my son is obsessed with these little f***ers and the rest of the kids at the park seem to be as well. And -- God forbid -- we leave a crumb or trace of snack behind, those vultures swoop in and plop right down on his overpriced stroller and make themselves at home. Vomit.
2) The park makes me feel fat. My son is too young to climb the jungle gym and go down the slide himself . Well, since I was alone with him and couldn't just send him down by himself, I had to go down with him. My fat ass was literally wedged into the slide as I pushed and shifted cheek by cheek trying to get down. I could feel all the other mommies watching ... Which leads me to #3.
3) "Park Mommies." I see you park mommies. I see you looking at me. What you're thinking when you look at me sympathetically, I have no idea. But as you call your darling Madisons and Coopers over to your bench while you take out your elaborate snack spread (as my son notices a cigarette in the sand box), I'm not sure if I want to ask you for a play date or punch you in the face.
4) Snot buckets. Why, oh, WHY would you bring your kid to a park when his snot is so green and his cough is that of an 80-year-old smoker?! Just because we're outdoors doesn't mean it's not contagious! And why, if your kid is suffering from what seems like the bubonic plague, would you let him come over and touch (i.e. yank!) my son's pail and shovel? Gross!
5) Sand = poop. The playground in our neighborhood is very lovely in comparison to some of the parks in this city. However, that doesn't mean that animals refrain from pooping and peeing in the sandbox. If you think I'm horrified when a bird comes near my stroller, please imagine how I felt when my son proudly picked up a piece of petrified poo out of the sandbox and said "Ball!" Double vomit.
6) Weirdos. If you don't have a kid with you, you shouldn't be sitting inside the gated playground. Period. That goes for the little old ladies, too. (They're half the reason why the park looks like a friggin' aviary with their bags of bread crumbs. Yuck!)
7) Plumber's crack. It ain't pretty but every time I go to the park, everyone gets to see my ass. I do my best to wear long shirts and pull my pants up, but without fail, my thong almost always hangs out when I play with my little guy. Frankly, it's not my fault, though. They shouldn't have those steps so friggin' low, making me squat like I'm peeing in the woods.
8) Swings. This is not really the park's fault per se, but my son isn't interested in going in the swings, he's just interested in jetting towards the big kids who could care less that a toddler half their size could get knocked over by their force. Bringing me to #9.
9) Rude kids. I don't know what it was about the crop of kids at the park on Saturday, but some of the kids were downright rude. My son walked up to two little girls near the slide and said "Hi! hi!" It was the cutest thing I'd ever seen, until he said it again and they just ignored him. Annoyed that these little brats didn't respond, I said sweetly, "Aw, I think he wants to say hi to you." They looked at me, and ignored me, too. Bitches.
10) Thieves. Without fail, I always leave the park with one shovel less. It's like the mysterious sock monster in my dryer, only at the park, the "monster" is your kid. Seriously though, if you're going to allow your kid to come up and steal our toys without offering to share yours, then at least return it when you're done ... Actually, don't. I don't know where your kid has been.