Last weekend we took Benjamin for his first visit to the neighborhood playground. We figured that since he could now sit up, there was no reason he couldn't do so on a slide or a jungle gym. We did get odd looks from some of the other parents there. I suppose it was because their kids were old enough to get on and off of the park equipment themselves, whereas we had to strategically position Benjamin's floppy little baby body in a manner that would allow him to stay propped upright. Even so, he seemed to have a good time.
We were especially excited to see if he'd like the swings. Vince plopped him into a rubber seat and gave him a gentle push. Benjamin began to sway to and fro, a gentle breeze ruffling his mohawk. Suddenly, he ducked his head down towards his knees. Was he getting airsick? Had we overestimated his ability to sit upright? Was he suffering from swing-induced narcolepsy? Was he scared and crying? Alarmed, I dropped to my knees to get a better view of him.
Benjamin's face was visible through the leg holes of the baby swing, and his eyes were busily watching the shadows shift as he moved through the air. In fact, he was so riveted that he didn't even notice I was crouched there anxiously gazing up at him. I breathed a sigh of relief and fondly watched my balled-up baby continue to swing back and forth like a chubby pendulum. Or a
Popple. Or a
turtle. Which reminds me... I need to get back to my knitting!
Last weekend we took Benjamin for his first visit to the neighborhood playground. We figured that since he could now sit up, there was no reason he couldn't do so on a slide or a jungle gym. We did get odd looks from some of the other parents there. I suppose it was because their kids were old enough to get on and off of the park equipment themselves, whereas we had to strategically position Benjamin's floppy little baby body in a manner that would allow him to stay propped upright. Even so, he seemed to have a good time. 
We were especially excited to see if he'd like the swings. Vince plopped him into a rubber seat and gave him a gentle push. Benjamin began to sway to and fro, a gentle breeze ruffling his mohawk. Suddenly, he ducked his head down towards his knees. Was he getting airsick? Had we overestimated his ability to sit upright? Was he suffering from swing-induced narcolepsy? Was he scared and crying? Alarmed, I dropped to my knees to get a better view of him.
Benjamin's face was visible through the leg holes of the baby swing, and his eyes were busily watching the shadows shift as he moved through the air. In fact, he was so riveted that he didn't even notice I was crouched there anxiously gazing up at him. I breathed a sigh of relief and fondly watched my balled-up baby continue to swing back and forth like a chubby pendulum. Or a Popple. Or a turtle. Which reminds me... I need to get back to my knitting! 
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2 comments:
I think he was just bowing his head in meditation. Nothing wrong with some peaceful reflection!
Okay. So I am dying. The ball-in-swing business is too much. Too much. Don't trust me to bring him to the park anytime soon. I will seriously die laughing. Gawd this kid is too adorable. TOO adorable!
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