Last week, we made an attempt to go out anyway and we had to turn the car around en route because of bad behaviors by the kids, well, mostly by a know-it-all kindergartner who was telling everyone what to do, kicking the back of my seat, and shouting that no one could look at her.
This week, we opted for a Thursday night out and for dinner right downtown so that we could walk from our house in the village.
One of the best fitness feats this year has been my three-year-old daughter's willingness to walk downtown. She was a jogging stroller gal for quite a while, which was a nuisance in the drawn-out stage of wanting to be in and out. And last year, when we just attempted a walk with her, she always ended up in my arms or on Tom's shoulders.
Now, that Julia is an official preschooler (two days a week), she is acting older. She is proud to walk and run and skip and jump. She is showing some stamina. So, tonight we basically ran down to dinner, trekking about a half a mile.
The kids were well-behaved and had a chance to greet a little baby in an infant car seat as we were finishing up our meal. Tom was telling the parents and our kids how he remembered when our kids were that size. Now that baby was cute and quiet and content. But I didn't go over and greet her. I reveled in the fact that I'm beyond that stage. I have two walkers. And away we went, holding hands, walking and even counting stars because preschoolers can count, too.