Today is a scorcher, relatively speaking. After a long winter with crazy snowstorms and rainstorms, a sunny 83 degrees feels like summer.
With my husband gone, I pat myself on the back for getting the kids to the park with the requisite blueberry muffin for my daughter and large coffee for me by 8:30. (side note: if my expensive and packed corner coffee joint that I frequent regularly is out of plain cream cheese and offers me the vegetable option, do not charge me the surcharge.) Now my son is napping, my daughter is watching Elmo on the iPhone (the television is not working) and I’m contemplating taking the kids to a museum.
I had been on a decent kick of bringing the two to the Guggenheim, the Museum of Natural History and the MoMa. Now that Monet’s water lily exhibit is supposed to end shortly at the MoMa I had psyched myself to bring the two on the subway to the show. It is so beautiful outside and the thought of strapping one child to my body while pushing the other in the stroller to go on the subway then walk a few blocks to get to the museum which may be crowded and then repeat to go home is not appealing.
Taking the kids to the museum is a lot like exercising, difficult to motivate, enjoyable during the event and satisfying once the mission is accomplished.
On the hot day, I’m wondering if the kids would have just as much fun playing outside chasing balls in the neighborhood.