Logan LOVES the park. Not a day goes by that she doesn't want to explore, mingle, and have fun in the out of doors. I enjoy it as well, I appreciate all things she's that enamoured of, and it was a staple in my own growth. It's insurance that she'll have less hyperactive energy at dreadtime and sleep through the night. In the ever present financial shackles, the park is free and an interesting cross hatch of humanity.
It is however, a double edged sword some days, like today. Some older slightly misguided youths decided to piss on some playground equipment, which is both vile and sad. I'm glad I got the info second hand, or it might have gotten a little violent. Then there were the couple boys who were doing their boy thing, flinging sand and insisting upon pretend plot line with no negotiation. You have to lead by example, so I handled it all calmly, even if I was shouting "LAY OFF AND GROW UP YOU LITTLE BASTARDS!" in my head. It's all part of sharing geography and experience with others, what are you going to do?
I'm one of those moms (out of necessity and an abiding zest for play) that's flopping around in the communal dirt, voyaging down the slide (at the risk of low hanging structure head injuries, that shit kills) and running over foothills to either win the "race" or chase the imaginary character du jour. Most other parental units I've observed have multiple kiddos so they keep themselves entertained/policed or they park itself is the other playmate for the fellow solo kids. There's nothing wrong with that, and I definitely have my odd days of slackdom on the fringe. To a kid however, realizing a mom is making a sand castle with rock trim and positioning zoo animal inhabitants means game on. My heart goes out to them for wanting to play with a grown-up interacting at their level, maybe they don't get that often.
Logan is able to share me, after MANY reassuring talks and pointed examples of how she's my numero uno...but when a group of kids starts encroaching on her turf, she gets a little extra bossy boots, a little more task managerial. I'm not sure if it's her version of solidarity-as I end up watching the interested parties by association-or if she's just asserting that I'm HER mom and therefor she has every right to give instruction as she deems necessary. Probably a bit o' both, and I don't entirely blame her. She could be knee-capping kids or shouting obscenities. Like mother like daughter, she probably is mentally.
It's all well and good, but in essence those happenings are working against the very reason we're there in the first place. Regardless, I'll always hang with random kids, why not? You never know what impact you have on a life, simply by listening to their theories about R2-D2 toys or acknowledging their creative panache with twigs. On the scale of public place responsibilities, that one isn't the worst. Plus, it's a little extra dose of appreciation for the family dynamic she and I share. It's easy to forget.
The Loganator (evil genius that she is) and I were swinging lately, one of the must-do's. We were spidering (they face you, on your lap and you both swing), so I watched her fluffy little face, the golden afternoon sunshine dazzling her sandy blond, glinting her bright blues. I was vaguely aware of the few other groups of people around us at that point (it's the ultimate maternal fishbowl at times), I was mostly just happy to be enjoying and remembering the awesome weightlessness of happy. Despite any fight over manners, row about half eaten lunches that get made into sculpture, or maddening monotony...to be in the delicate fall weather, watching Logan chant "HIGHER!" and giggle with mischievous glee was/is fun. Entirely worth it.
With any luck, our partnerships at the parks we encounter can battle the likelihood that she or any of our informal play-daters will be pissing on playground equipment in the future. Or be perminantly watching from the sidelines.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
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