Walking Home From Church

Earlier this month, we went to church as usual. And by “as usual” I mean I was rushing around to get everyone ready and we were running late and I was cussing. Just wait: there’s a post coming up Sunday about super-fun church-going.

So after church we’re walking to the parking lot and a friend follows me out to give me her new contact information. She saw me touching my belly because I was full from the Knights of Columbus breakfast and goes, “So. Kerrie. You’re expecting again, right?”

Me: “NO!” Believe me, I was not offended as I’ve never had a flat stomach a day in my life. Then I said, “I couldn’t be pregnant right now even if I wanted to be.”

Her: “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

Me: “No, I just mean I haven’t gotten my period back yet and there’d only be a very small chance of my getting pregnant right now, based on a lot of factors I won’t bore you with.”

Her: “Oh. Look! I see Aron’s giving the kids driving lessons. Are you walking home?”

Me: “Are you nuts? We live like a mile away and it’s November and all I have is my Yale hooded jacket. No way.”

Then what did I do? Like a good, see-all-sides Gemini, I thunk on it. And I started to walk home (telling my husband first, of course). Then I had 3 little followers (Eva rode home with her Da).

It was awesome. We talked, we crushed leaves, we found some milk-pod things, we threw tiny apples in the street to watch cars run them over, we found good sticks, we tormented dogs behind giant wooden fences, we cursed the house whose fence had fallen onto the sidewalk because nails were sticking out everywhere. We had some nice time together and got some exercise and fresh air.

Then we did it again the next weekend.

It’s nice for a Type-A personality like me to be able to slow down a little bit. Forget a bubble bath or a weekend away from my kids. All I need to be a calmer person and a “better” mom, it turns out, is a little walk with my buddies.