the art of swinging

Yesterday Christopher and I went for a walk.

Well, I walked, and he rode his scooter.

Which means he was faster, so he lead the way.

Straight to the park.

After a few minutes at the park, he climbed up on a swing and said, "Mommy help."

So I pushed, and pushed until he was ready to get off,

and then he surprised me by saying, "Mommy's turn" and motioned for me to get on the swing.

At which point he started pushing me.

Seriously, how cute is that?

He pushed me for several minutes giving me enough time to remember how much I used to love swinging.

Going as high as you could, trying to see if you could go in a full circle all the way over the top of the swing set, but secretly afraid you might succeed.

Learning to jump out and just the right moment.

Swinging just as high and as hard as you can, then Flipping upside down, wrapping your legs around the chains, and feeling that moment of thrill as you watched the ground come closer and closer and then just as you think you were gonna get a face full of sand, the earth would start to pull away.

Twisting, turning, spinning.

I was constantly trying to change things up, think outside the box, find a new, cooler way, to go faster, higher, get a bigger thrill, something someone never though of before and would hopefully name after me.

Anyway, that all came back to me as I sat there, letting my little boy push his mommy on the swing. (and it's a good excuse to share all these pictures)