Yesterday I took Molly to a playground that I used to ride my bike to. She didn't want to go down the little slide, but instead went down the tallest tube slide there - all by herself. She didn't wait for me at all and I had to jump off the equipment to meet her at the bottom. It was kind of a neat moment; to realize that she takes for granted that I'll be there for her. I'm glad she does.
After she braved the slide, we went over to "swing swing." Molly loves to swing. When I push her I count to three; dive in and out of her path; tickle her through the swing; sing the ABC's; pretend she's kicked me... it cracks both of us up. Well, that day, I decided to swing next to her in the "big girl swing" and at first I tried to match up my swing with hers, but then I took off. I hadn't really been swinging since maybe elementary school. In the 4th grade, that's all I did with my friend, Carla. We had a whole routine made up: commands we would shout to each other like it was synchronized swimming. This time, I concentrated on my feet reaching into the air as high as I could - and I even talked myself into leaning all the way back! I haven't played like that in a long time. And you know what? It felt really good.
Molly and I stayed on those swings for about 30 minutes. She just didn't want to get off, and I just didn't want to make her.
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