We’re settling in nicely over here in suburban Washington, DC. We live on this little cul-de-sac off the main road, and just on our little drive there are 9 kids under the age of 7. In kid terms, this is awesome-sauce to the tenth degree. Every night the kids inhale dinner so that they can go “oooh-side” (Meimei speak for outside) and play with their new friends.
Even though we have a million hand-me-down bikes, trikes and wagons, taking turns on the coveted bike-of-the-moment is still a nightly battle.
Ge Ge is learning the rules of the road: when to look out for cars, how fast is too fast, and how far he can wander while still staying in a grown-up’s field of vision. Meimei, claiming to be too young to understand rules, has proven instead to be a downright speed demon.
The only downside to all this fun is that it’s coming to an earlier close every night. Blast you, sunset. You are my kids’ worst enemy (after timeouts, of course).