I had my first mom experience at a real playground yesterday. I’ve done little backyard swing sets, but the weather has been too cold or Jack has been too little for a legit playground.
After my mother-in-law gave me a head’s up about a local ‘ground called ARCpark, I scoped out the situation and determined it would a fantastic place to take Jack now that he’s walking and not just a blob of a baby.
I did mom things like packing a lunchbox filled with snacks and a sippy cup. I doned Jack’s feet with real shoes. I brought along a water bottle for myself, in the event that all that playgrounding worked up a sweat (seriously, running after an almost-toddler is no pleasure cruise.)
I arrived to the park before my friend Austin, and I was immediately overwhelmed by so many white moms in one place. It was a sea of strollers and babywearers and nursing covers and so much lululemon that I had to pause before assessing the entire situation.
Across the playground, I spotted one empty bucket swing and knew I had to act quickly if I wanted to claim it for Jack and his friend, Christopher.
I cut across the grass and past a professional breastfeeder who was legit nursing one baby while pushing another in a swing; I almost stopped to applaud her skill, but I was on a mission.
I almost had to kick a toddler out of the way, but he swerved just in time. I slowed my pace as I approached the swing, as to avoid looking like a complete psychopath, parked my stroller, and put Jack in the swing.
Dude was loving it, doing all the squealing and babbling that babies do when they’re trying to tell you that you’re
finally doing something right. Feeling like a winner, I started pushing Jack a little higher when a new family joined me to my right.
We were doing that weird talking-to-each-other-while-talking-to-our-babies type thing, which always makes me slightly uncomfortable, but it seems to be the native tongue in playground land.
Anyway, from the left, their older child called for them to look at him doing something weird like eating mulch. Completely overwhelmed by his excitement with himself, the kid started running towards his parents.
I saw what was coming a second too late.
Pushing Jack’s swing at just the right moment, I hit kid in the side of the head.
Knocking him completely to the ground.
That day, little Shilo learned what happens when you run behind swings.
I’m basically a teacher, right?