Parks, port-a-potties, non- pro photography and post-partum staging

Last week a friend told me about a good park in her town. Her description of  a new-fangled surface underneath the play equipment and a sandbox outfitted with manual-operating diggers sold me. That there was a little train you could ride, was the blue buttercream frosting on this cupcake. 

We drove there yesterday after Plan A fell through. Overcast and soggy, the beach held little sparkle, so we loaded up some snacks and drove the half hour.

The train wasn't operating but our two park-enthusiasts didn't care. There was plenty of swinging, sliding, ramp-walking and digging.

We stayed long enough that Shaune even got to use a port-a-potty. See, that's one of the biggies we differ on. Me? I would hold my bladder if it meant crossing province lines to avoid using a port-a-potty. If you're easy going about things like that - like Shaune is, having a wife like me is deep-sigh -awww c'mon, you're kidding-type of frustration.

The drizzly sun-less day made it perfect picture-taking weather. Did I ever mention that because we have this nice camera -I'd have to ask Shaune what it's called but he's not here- that we've only been to a photo studio once? That was when Deaglan was six weeks old and he peed on the photographer's hand. Yup, that was the last time. We just take our chances with our own handi-work and sometimes come up with gems like these. Shaune even put on the auto-set thingy and got a few family shots.

And I know I go on and on about what my kids mean to me and how cuckoo I am for them. But have I told you how practical they are? Forget wearing baggy clothes to hide your post-partum body.

I just strategically place a kid in front of me.

Go ahead and look back. I know you want to. You'll see a a cute little boy hiding my problem spots in every post I'm pictured.