I have the independence parents jones for, the freedom I fleetingly imagined while crossing against speeding traffic on that 18-minute sprint. I've been liberated. It's boundless, new and strange, and I'm completely adrift.
She puts her hand up on the red plastic window. I place mine in the same spot. I mouth the words "I'm sorry." She is Spock and I am Kirk in Wrath of Kahn. She is Bruce Willis and I am Liv Tyler in Armageddon.
It can make my heart literally ache to watch my children march off to a new grade level each fall. Each year a higher number, a taller kid, bigger back-to-school shoes to purchase. I want to take hold of time, of them, and just not let go.
There was a day last weekend when I literally had to fend off three separate sets of parents who wanted to square off in a heated match of Your-Kid-Hit-Mine-And-Now-I'm-Going-To-Hold-You-Accountable-For-Everything-Bad-In-The-Universe. You think I'm embellishing, but seriously, it felt like that.
Whether Zarom and Watchitoo will take off and succeed beyond his wildest imagination cannot be predicted with any certainty. However, given the perpetual plethora of Zarom successes, I would definitely not bet against him.
As long as we are going to keep frequenting playgrounds, I've decided to come up with some ground rules so my children known exactly where I stand. Hopefully it will make the experience as painless as possible...
They have had their share of scrapes and bruises. But I love that my girls have band-aids on their knees and keep on running. When life knocks them down, which it will sometimes, I know they will rally.
The winners of our 'Scary Playgrounds!' contest are committed to turning these decrepit playgrounds, pictured below, into vibrant community playspaces that encourage healthy, creative, unstructured outdoor play.