September 10, 2012 in Life
Swinging is in season around here.
We have been working on building a play set for the whole summer, and recently, Jer put the finishing touches on it. (Fine, Jer built it, but I offered invaluable advice and encouragement…and cat calls like those ladies on the diet coke commercial.)
Sissy particularly likes the swing. Our oldest son prefers to show off his amazing gymnastic skills on the rings. And our youngest son usually chooses the swing- but swing’s on his belly.
Saturday, we had a quiet day working on things around the house and I walked with Serena to the playset with my camera and practiced different angles and perspectives. Then we all went in for lunch and an episode of Dangerous Encounters with Brady I-will-get-myself-killed-one-day.
She told me she wanted to jump off and have me take her picture. I can still remember that feeling of swinging as high as I dared, scooting to the edge of the swing, and working up the courage to launch myself off at just the right moment. Sometimes it hurt when my ankles slammed into the wood chips, but it never prevented me from doing it again. I wonder how old I was when I stopped doing that as a child? It was probably when I started middle school, and got awkward, self-conscious and annoying.
What is your favorite playground memory?