My First Walk with Lucia

Monday was my productive day. To-do items were crossed off my list at a slower pace during the rest of the week.

Tuesday was haircut day for me and Andres. These were urgently needed. I looked like an unkempt muppet, and my poor son's look could best be described as "furry." It took three trips to Lessard's to get the both of us cleaned up--one trip cut short on Monday because 6 people were waiting for 1 barber, my trip on Tuesday morning, and then Andres' visit Tuesday after school--but we finally did it, cleaner and happier for our efforts.

We came home, played a few rounds of checkers on the iPad, and then in the space of a few minutes when Andres was playing by himself and Lucia was still sleeping, and before I had to run out to pick up Celia, I bought a new camera. A decision I had hemmed and hawed about for months was made with a couple simple clicks of a button. Then Natalia came home, and I ran out again to get Celia from preschool before taking she and her brother to their swimming lessons. A day away from work was still filled with many tasks.

Wednesday began the same way that all my other days begin--wrangling two children and a baby into a car before 8:15. "Imploring" may be a better verb than "wrangling," actually. I do a lot of negotiating, asking, pleading, and then begging before everyone is strapped in and ready to go. It's often enough to make me rethink my morning coffee in favor of something stronger.

My task this morning was another expensive one--take the car in for a tune-up, with new brakes a possibility. More stress on the wallet. But the day was a beautiful one, a sharp, crisp morning that would have been as appropriate signaling the end of fall as it did welcoming spring, and with no car to take us anywhere more exciting than the inside of a mechanic's waiting area, Lucia and I went for our first long walk of the season.

From Watertown Street in Nonantum, we walked down to the Charles and followed the bike path east towards Watertown Square. Lucia napped soundly. She held her two hands outside the blankets I had piled on top of her, and her lips were pursed, the same face that the other two kids made when they were her age. I am often struck by how she shares so many of her siblings' mannerisms, though she looks so different than them.

As the path wound towards its conclusion we encountered a giant puddle bounded by mud on both sides. This proved to be an insurmountable obstacle, so we turned back and made our way through a small office park to California Street. We crossed over to Watertown and headed west, towards the spot where our car was being serviced, and passed the apartment where Tom used to live. The windows of his apartment were dark and there was a single car in the parking lot. For a moment, I let myself wonder whether it was his car--whether he was actually in his old apartment, puttering around with the train set he was building for his kids or playing Xbox. Of course this was a fantasy. He didn't live there anymore, or anywhere for that matter.

We kept walking and soon had to make a decision: go back to the mechanic and wait, possibly for another hour, or roll the dice and make the trek to Whole Foods, which would only be bearable if Lucia slept for 20 minutes longer. (She would be hungry when she woke up.) I was feeling up for a challenge so we made the turn on Pearl Street. I crossed my fingers.

It was the right choice, though. She woke up as we were getting close to the store, and I was able to get my shopping done before unpacking her and her bottle in the little cafe area. We hung out there a while, both of us eating (muffin for me, milk for her), one of us burping, enjoying each other's company and the luxury of having nowhere to be.

My phone rang. It was the mechanic telling me that yes, my car did indeed need new brakes, and that everything would be ready by 11:30. Perfect--enough time to hang out for a little while longer and then make the return journey without any rushing.

I doubted Lucia would enjoy being strapped into her stroller again so, after a diaper change, I put her into the Baby Bjorn and used the stroller as a glorified shopping cart for bags, blankets, and groceries. She bounced around as we headed outside. But the warming sun of earlier on had been replaced by more clouds and wind, and I now faced the prospect of a long walk back to my car with a potentially cold and irritable child locked to my chest. I walked briskly, favoring the sides of the street that still clung to sunlight.

Lucia never pouted. This shouldn't surprise me--aside from her first month, when she was cranky most of the time she was awake, she's an easy-going baby. Not even the cold seemed to bother her. At one point I looked down to see how she was coping, and I saw that she had turned her head completely to the side within her pink fleece hood. The poor thing was trying to stave off the cold by letting her cheek take the brunt of the wind. With survival skills like this, she will have no problem dealing with her older brother and sister.

We braved the cold together and made it back to the mechanic at 11. We had a good half hour to spare, but by this point Lucia was tired from the walk and gladly went back into her carseat. Naptime wasn't far off, and she dozed while I read.

I waited for the work on my car to be completed and then loaded all of my gear (and child) into it. It had been a productive morning. I listened to Lucia's soft breathing and thought longingly of taking a nap of my own. But there was too much to do, and too little time to fit it all in, so as I drove home I added new items to my to do list, pausing every so often to appreciate the beauty of a long walk with a loved one.