You Can’t Plan a Fun Day With Kids

“Wanna go in that open air market over there?” I asked excitedly.

“Not really,” my husband answered.

One of the kids had found a sidewalk toy display.

“Can I get this?”

“No.”

Cue crying, whining, or something.

“I’m hungry!”

Ok, yeah, we could eat. I looked at the different restaurants as we walked by. Lots of white linen tables. Nope, that wouldn’t do.

“I want crab legs!”

I wasn’t sure why my oldest always wanted the most expensive thing on the menu. Heck, I wanted crab legs too, but I’d probably get a burger since I was so budget conscientious.

“I would really like to go to the Waterfront Park,” I said.

“What is that, and why?” My husband asked.

He pushed the stroller on as he spoke, diaper bag dragging, my 2-year-old sticking her feet in the wheels every few yards, as they struck and struggled over fractured cobblestone blocks.

“Why haven’t we seen a Starbucks around here?” My husband asked.

I realized then that what was fun to me wasn’t as much fun to everyone else.

“I gotta pee!”

“I’m tired!”

“Carry me!”

“I want ice cream!”

I looked at my phone and informed everyone it was only 300 feet until we reached the Waterfront Park. Then we rounded the corner and I pointed it out ahead.

“That’s a park? Why isn’t there a playground?”

I saw beautiful trees and a gorgeous walkway alongside the bay. Then I saw tired, hungry children, and a husband with a headache. Things that I wanted to do weren’t always what kids wanted to do, and I realized my desires for this day trip might have been better enjoyed with girlfriends or my sisters. At some point along the bedraggled jaunt, with my kids whining and complaining the entire time, to the extent that I could hardly enjoy myself, I had thought some pretty angry things about them. Like, nothing worth mentioning. The day had definitely not gone as I had imagined.

Sometimes I think we plan too much. We try to pack too much into a day, or assume everything must go according to plan, following an exact agenda. We want our children to enjoy it [as] we imagine, but kids seem to enjoy things on their own personal agenda. It’s why babies play with boxes over the toys that came in them.

Later that evening my husband commented, “today was a lot of fun. I’m glad we did this.”

And I realized he was right. Sometimes a lot of times raising children is enjoying the highlight reel. There’s so much whining! But then there’s musical laughter. There’s so much crying! But then there’s happy smiles that cannot be rivaled. There’s so many tantrums! But then there’s hugs. There’s “I love you,” and my favorite, “you’re the best mom ever.” Parenting is hard, but then it’s awesome. Motherhood is exhausting, but it’s also somehow worthwhile. It’s like when you see the excitement in their eyes, the infuriating rush out the door is forgotten. When you look at their enchanting, sleeping face, the frustration of bedtime routine is pushed aside. You look later at the amazing photograph you captured, and the struggle to get to that moment seems like nothing.

I’ve discovered that some of our most enjoyable times as a family are the ones that just happen, not the ones I plan. The day before, a stroll on the boardwalk over the saltwater marsh had been magical and full of pattering feet and laughter. The last-minute detour to the seashore earlier, as they splashed eagerly in the cool ocean, their laughter competing with the music of the ocean roar, it had been a perfect day. Sometimes that’s what you hold onto in parenthood. Those practically perfect moments that just happen, like an unexpected present on a regular day. Raising children is hard enough on its own without us trying to plan it to death, package it like we think it ought to look, or inject into it the things we think our children need to enjoy themselves. Heck, give kids a pile of dirt and they’re good.

So here’s to getting dirty and learning from mistakes. It’s an on-the-job training kinda gig. You can’t always plan a fun day with kids. In fact, usually you can’t. You just have to plan on taking it as it comes. And that’s usually the fun part.