it's 70 degrees outside. sunny. GORGEOUS. this is when the south rocks. you can get a weekend like this in january. i feel a little bad for the sleeping plants and trees who are being woken up too early- but for the rest of us- it's a beautiful thing!
the park playground is a great place. it's kind of like a neighborhood for people who don't have neighborhood kids to play with. its' a different culture than school. kids are thrown together- different ages and different streets or sections of town- different schools- different challenges and strengths. and at the playground, labels that might follow you during the school week, are gone. you are not 'the quiet kid', or the kindergartner, or the kid whose in special education. you're the kid who likes the play star wars- or who has a dog to be petted. i love this experiment in social interaction. i love watching my kids find there way in it- and just being the backdrop- the haven- and then finding some adults to talk with.
zoe is honestly a playground pro. she can work the scene like no one else. she is bold in her introduction- she is fearless and determined. she doesn't need me at all. she can let rejection roll off her back and move on. and that's what's great about the park- there is always another kid.
today we went because we had to be outside- for every minute the sun was shining- because it would be a crime to not be outside in this luxury. we packed a picnic lunch and went for 2 hours. i even brought the dog- which i never do. everyone was thrilled. this particular park is perfect for kids my kids ages. there are swings, a lot of playground equipment, and woods and hills and a stream- something for everyone. we ate first and then they were off. zoe ended up playing with a bunch of 7-9 year old girls for hours. there was no drama. no sadness. no stickiness. even around the monkey bars. jude and bryn found a 10 year old boy who liked star wars and seemed to me to be a bit on the 'special' side, and they played with him for hours. it was all the beauty of public shared space, of organic community.
when we left- everyone was in a better mood. they had run out their energy on the hills and fought battles that needed to be fought with sticks. they had found their conversations and shared their stories and been who they needed to be for the afternoon. they'd made new friends- friends they planned to meet up with again. it's the beauty of life in all it's childhood purity.
for me- it's a lesson in letting go. see, i still have the mild urge to check in - to 'save' zoe- to hover-to intervene- to help navigate, but i don't. i practice resistance. i let her sink or swim. i remind myself that she is her own, that she must do this with out me. that if she gets horribly upset and melts down and does the wiggly voice and covers her ears and screams and goes running away down the street- that it's OK. that it will be OK and that i'll be OK. but that doesn't happen on the playground- only in my mind each time we're there. no. she amazes me- and each time, i'm a little more comfortable, a little less on edge, a little better at letting go.
for me-it's about allowing the process to run. it's about being alright with 'different'- it's about accepting my identity for what it is. a mom of a non-typical, playground pro, lovely, engaging, delightfully different kid. so i think i learn more at the playground then they do.
today in church the sermon was on the crossing of the red sea. the israelites had just left the egyptians- just left a life of slavery and had followed moses, led by God, into the dessert. and now they were trapped between the encroaching egyptian army and this giant body of water and they were really mad. the situation stunk and they were mad at moses and at God and actually wished they'd just stayed in egypt as slaves. they did what i do all the time. felt the fear and got mad. lacked the faith and wanted to run back to slavery. because known pain is often better than the scariness of the unknown. and God tells moses to tell them to be still.
there it is again. stillness.
but once they are still. quiet. not freaking out. he tells them to move.
he opens up the sea- he allows passage to safety. he leads them closer- to the promised land.
lessons in faith. lessons in patience. lessons in stillness. lessons in obedience.
the result is provision. non abandonment. safety. growth. lessons learned. awe.
for me- i'm always trying to run back to the painful but known. i'm always finding a giant sea in front of me to throw me into doubt and fear. i'm always struggling with trusting. i'm often feeling trapped and forget whose leading me.
so i love these days of remembering- these days of seeing the fruition. of seeing the promise.
these days when stillness happens- and crossing is possible- and there is a moment of awe- and i feel the grace.
the park playground is a great place. it's kind of like a neighborhood for people who don't have neighborhood kids to play with. its' a different culture than school. kids are thrown together- different ages and different streets or sections of town- different schools- different challenges and strengths. and at the playground, labels that might follow you during the school week, are gone. you are not 'the quiet kid', or the kindergartner, or the kid whose in special education. you're the kid who likes the play star wars- or who has a dog to be petted. i love this experiment in social interaction. i love watching my kids find there way in it- and just being the backdrop- the haven- and then finding some adults to talk with.
zoe is honestly a playground pro. she can work the scene like no one else. she is bold in her introduction- she is fearless and determined. she doesn't need me at all. she can let rejection roll off her back and move on. and that's what's great about the park- there is always another kid.
today we went because we had to be outside- for every minute the sun was shining- because it would be a crime to not be outside in this luxury. we packed a picnic lunch and went for 2 hours. i even brought the dog- which i never do. everyone was thrilled. this particular park is perfect for kids my kids ages. there are swings, a lot of playground equipment, and woods and hills and a stream- something for everyone. we ate first and then they were off. zoe ended up playing with a bunch of 7-9 year old girls for hours. there was no drama. no sadness. no stickiness. even around the monkey bars. jude and bryn found a 10 year old boy who liked star wars and seemed to me to be a bit on the 'special' side, and they played with him for hours. it was all the beauty of public shared space, of organic community.
when we left- everyone was in a better mood. they had run out their energy on the hills and fought battles that needed to be fought with sticks. they had found their conversations and shared their stories and been who they needed to be for the afternoon. they'd made new friends- friends they planned to meet up with again. it's the beauty of life in all it's childhood purity.
for me- it's a lesson in letting go. see, i still have the mild urge to check in - to 'save' zoe- to hover-to intervene- to help navigate, but i don't. i practice resistance. i let her sink or swim. i remind myself that she is her own, that she must do this with out me. that if she gets horribly upset and melts down and does the wiggly voice and covers her ears and screams and goes running away down the street- that it's OK. that it will be OK and that i'll be OK. but that doesn't happen on the playground- only in my mind each time we're there. no. she amazes me- and each time, i'm a little more comfortable, a little less on edge, a little better at letting go.
for me-it's about allowing the process to run. it's about being alright with 'different'- it's about accepting my identity for what it is. a mom of a non-typical, playground pro, lovely, engaging, delightfully different kid. so i think i learn more at the playground then they do.
today in church the sermon was on the crossing of the red sea. the israelites had just left the egyptians- just left a life of slavery and had followed moses, led by God, into the dessert. and now they were trapped between the encroaching egyptian army and this giant body of water and they were really mad. the situation stunk and they were mad at moses and at God and actually wished they'd just stayed in egypt as slaves. they did what i do all the time. felt the fear and got mad. lacked the faith and wanted to run back to slavery. because known pain is often better than the scariness of the unknown. and God tells moses to tell them to be still.
there it is again. stillness.
but once they are still. quiet. not freaking out. he tells them to move.
he opens up the sea- he allows passage to safety. he leads them closer- to the promised land.
lessons in faith. lessons in patience. lessons in stillness. lessons in obedience.
the result is provision. non abandonment. safety. growth. lessons learned. awe.
for me- i'm always trying to run back to the painful but known. i'm always finding a giant sea in front of me to throw me into doubt and fear. i'm always struggling with trusting. i'm often feeling trapped and forget whose leading me.
so i love these days of remembering- these days of seeing the fruition. of seeing the promise.
these days when stillness happens- and crossing is possible- and there is a moment of awe- and i feel the grace.
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