I'm not sure if it was the sunshine, smiling through the window, beckoning me outside.
Or the fact that my vanilla wafer skin is craving a warm tint.
Maybe it's my rear missing her daily walk.
All I know, is I woke up on a mission to explore Huntington Beach on foot!
Ty hadn't been up from his morning nap more than 8 seconds, when BAM!
Both boys were plopped in the double BOB, and their crazy mom was off with enough snacks and pb&j to feed an army and all the magic forest creatures HB holds, which I came to discover, were not many.
Walking creates an intimate knowing of an area, in a way that can't be understood or recognized by car. Down Cindy Lane, steering ahead, sticky fingers jutting out from the stroller sides.
We cross the wash, the sun behind, warming my shoulders. Tan those babies!
One step in front of the other, memorizing street signs as we journey towards the crosswalk.
Years of living in a small town come flooding back...walking the same two mile block had formed a friendship with my tennies, a routine my shoes knew the direction to head before I'd even stretched.
I want that for this town. This abundant town, bursting with food options, and beach attire. In time, my gray Adidas shoes will recognize the streets to turn towards, the parks the boys feel at home sliding down, and the ideal beach spot to park for maximum sun fun.
Today was the first walk of many.
We discovered a park, a baby play structure, nestled close to the larger slides, steps and monkey bars, which Ty fearlessly ignored, and instead, headed toward the street, pointing at the "Carrrrr!" Tanner was in heaven laying and rolling in the sand, like a young pig in a newly-discovered mudhole. What is it with sand?
I should have just brought them to the beach, I mumbled under my wind-down breath.
But then we would have driven, and walking was on the day's agenda!
30 minutes later and the boys back in the BOB, I focused the three of us toward the neighborhood in front. We wound around ideal street names like Breakers and Shore.
I could almost hear the lady in the yellow home with white trim giving directions.
Why sure, I live on Shore... wink, wink!
Around the bend, a school emerged. wearing worn brick and cupping a swing set in her palms. Children squealed, laughed, and ran over her shoulders. Backpacks lined up, hanging from her wide earlobes. I stopped and breathed every detail in. Snuggled in the stroller, I projected my boys years ahead, walking up those school steps, onto her collar, and into her open mouth of classrooms. Yes, I smiled, I can imagine them learning, creating, and playing here.
Walk walk. Another beachy street name with shuttered homes rolling out their green grass carpets, holding white fences, and hugging the curb. Playful flowers poked out the fence slats, waving hello as we breezed by.
All of it. I love it. I love that this is a neighboring neighborhood, in a soon-to-be familiarly stomped path.
It's our new home walk.
Steps we will enjoy after dinner as a family.
Power-walks I'll take to mentally write.
Trails Tanner and Ty will escape as they lean back and feel the stroller tires under their bundled boy energy.
Retracing our steps, the sun now ahead, out of the neighborhood, past the park, across the crosswalk, the boys almost asleep, over the wash, and onto our street, to Cindy Lane welcoming us home and smiling at my now bronzed, but not-so-sexy tank top tan!
Rear, meet your new walk!
You, my tennies and I are going to be good, well-worn friends!