Face to the blue sky, eyes closed, content smile, a soft breeze whipping through a tangled mess of slightly curled blonde hair, warm sun enveloping the arms...the hands clasped tightly to the metal chain. Legs bending and unbending at the knee, back and forth, back and forth... The blissful laughs and elated yells of children's voices mingling with and then fading into the springtime babble of birds and insects as she soars higher and higher away into her own world of imagination...if only for a few moments...
What is it about the pure, carefree dynamism of swinging? Just you and a simple playground swing. Such a timeless act of innocent childhood, no matter your age. The story above is not of the Jessica of days gone by, not some 23 years ago. No, the story above was the Jessica of earlier this week. No shame here.
Where else would Lil' Man and I be on such a beautiful spring day? The park, of course! The May sunshine beamed down on the park inundated with moms, dads, grandparents, nannies, and children practically from birth to at least 7 years old. Toddlers shakily climbed the slides, little boys kicked soccer balls, girls skittered across monkey bars, babies sat happily in strollers or on moms' hips watching older siblings run, spin, jump, and shout. Perfect, crazy day at a park on a perfect afternoon. Amidst the wood chips and toy trucks, the chubby baby legs and dirty fingernails of rambunctious boys, the hair bows sliding out of girls' hair and the flowing Maxi skirts of chattering moms, sat the towering structure of the metal swing set. Three infant swings on one end, three regular swings on the other. All three infant swings were occupied...this was going to be quite the depressing news for Lil' Man, as swinging has become his favorite park pastime...
But, lo and behold, there was one unoccupied regular swing, residually swaying from some child's recent departure. I hoisted Lil' Man on my hip and made a beeline for the lone swing (I would have let him walk, but his semi-toddling steps would have cost precious time that would surely have ended in a swingless demise for us). We reached the swing in record time, and I plopped down with Lil' Man in my lap. If he had been one of those squirmy wormy types, I probably wouldn't have attempted to swing with him, but no worries with that extremely laid back child. I pressed the soles of my flip-flops into the caked-up dirt, pushed off, and slowly began to pump my legs to send us off on our swinging adventure...
Good gracious, I hadn't been on a swing in forever! I'd almost forgotten how much I love swinging! The wind in your hair, the tightening of muscles as you pump your legs faster and faster, the brief moments of near weightlessness. I'm not sure that I recognized the beauty of a swing when I was 6, but to do it years later, in the busy, stress-filled days of adulthood...well, there is just something somewhat freeing about partaking in a few minutes of lighthearted childhood fun.
I probably would have kept on swinging longer than we did, but I wasn't accustomed to 25 extra pounds of person sitting in the same swing as me. I stopped pumping and slowly slid Lil' Man off my lap. He didn't want to stop swinging, of course, but frankly...neither did I.
Maybe you weren't a swing kind of kid when you were little. Maybe you liked the slide or the sandbox. Whatever it was that you loved as a child, I completely recommend throwing adult decorum out the window sometime, just for a moment, and partaking in a special little piece of childhood. We all can use a break from this crazy, rollercoaster of a ride called being "grown-up" every now and again.
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