Swinging

Mouse has been doggedly working at her independence lately, with a large focus on swinging. She love, love, loves to swing. As a baby, she was happiest in the swing. I almost didn’t buy one because I was sold on the “attachment criticism” of them being “neglect-o-matics”. However, when I learned that I really couldn’t carry her for 23 hours a day without one of us getting hurt, sling or no sling, we broke down and agreed to a swing.

Mouse loved it. She spent a lot of time in it. It was really the only place she would nap and it gave me my 2 hands for a short while in a day. I was paranoid about leaving her in there too long, and so kept checking on her and wringing my hands with worry, but in hindsight, I’m grateful we had it. Swinging has always soothed and calmed her.

When she was old enough to go to the park, she wanted to be in the swing. The whole time. And so we’d go to the park and swing. I spent a lot of time standing at the swing, singing songs, counting, and eventually meeting other swing Mom’s.

After about 4 years of constant pushing on the swing, we made a concerted effort to teach Mouse to pump her legs to swing by herself, especially once we moved to our current house that has a swing set in the back yard. She was so excited to have her own swing that she could play on any time she wanted, but she really didn’t have the coordination/momentum of pumping. When she started school, a few of the kids in her class could pump and get REALLY high. She wanted that so badly… and eventually, it just clicked for her. I remember the day I went out in the back yard to help her swing and lifted her up on to the seat. I pushed her a few times and then she started pumping and making herself go higher. She was just as surprised as I was as she laughed, yelling loudly “MOM! Look at me! I’m doing it! I’m PUMPING!!! Look how HIGH I’m going!”.

Then, learning how to pump just wasn’t enough. She wanted to figure out how to get on the swing by herself (they’re a bit high for her). She worked at it until she could hang onto the chains and hop up on her own. And then she learned how to use momentum to get herself going – entirely by herself. With each achievement, she yelled loudly for all of the surrounding neighbors to hear “MOM! I DID IT MYSELF!!”, followed by a triumphant, gleeful laugh.

Swinging still calms her and when she’s bored or needs to process something, she goes and swings. The swing is almost always the first thing she wants to do at a park or when we’re in the backyard. But right now, I think it’s more than just the act of swinging that’s so enticing. It’s the feelings of pride, independence and freedom that she gets when she asks to go outside and swing. She can go out there on her own, get on the swing on her own, get started on her own, swing as high as she possibly can and know that she’s got the power to do it.

I watch her bright smile under her flying hair shining golden in the sunshine, with a mixture of pride and nostalgia. In the strong, young girl she’s becoming, I see in the little baby nestled into her baby swing, sleeping peacefully.

My stomach clenches every time I watch her body hop out of the seat a bit as she reaches the top of the swing; worried that she might be swinging too high; that she might fall. My heart stops a little each time as I picture my little girl, growing up, swinging through life, soaring to new heights, right before my eyes; all the while praying she doesn’t fall.