Tire Swing

The Would Be Picture:

 A small boy, dressed in grey sweat pants, a blue plaid jacket, and a blue bomber hat, face alight in laughter, gripping tightly to the chains of a simple tire swing.

The Experience:

For the fourth day in a row, we visited the playground nearby our house.  I almost didn't take him today, because a chill has re-awoken from the warm days we experienced not long ago.  He dabbled on the slide, scooped some sand into the dump truck in the sandbox and then headed for the tire swing.

We had tried the tire swing two days prior, but after just a few seconds he grew uninterested.  I was intrigued to see if this time would be different.  The minds and mannerisms of two year olds change on such a rapid basis, something they hate one day, they could love the next.

I placed his small frame on the swing, and told him to hold on tight with two hands.  I pushed gently, and as he began to swing and turn his darling little face lit up.  Then came one of my favorite sounds, his precious little laugh.  He loved it.  I pushed, and he spun for about a minute and then the moment came.

This is one of those times you reach for the camera.  His first real time on a tire swing, having the time of his life.  Instead I took a different route - and it changed my experience of the playground forever.

I stopped the swing and asked him if I could get on.  He replied with a resounding YES!  and then the real fun began.

The swing was held up by three chains, and while we were on an elementary school playground, I figured it was safe to assume that if three elementary school students could sit safely on this swing, than my son and I together should also be fine.

I climbed into the middle of the tire, and sat down, and my son almost flew into the air.  He's two, I'm obviously much bigger than him, and I therefore needed to devise a way to balance out the weight, or the combination of his sweat pants and the smooth texture of the fake tire swing, would have him ending up in my lap.

So I raised one leg and stuck it across the swing into the empty third space.  While not completely off-setting the weight difference, at least now the swing was level.

I began to move us back and forth with my other foot, which conveniently just reached the ground in the middle of the swing.  His face lit up again and the laughter returned.

Growing up myself, I had a mother who would spontaneously break out into song.  We used to always say that you could throw any word at her and she would know a song about it.  I am becoming my mother.  As we sat there swinging, I had the urge to sing, and so I made up a song of my own.  (Thinking back on it, I'm wondering if my mother would do the same thing....)

Here is my song:(to the tune of Sailing, Sailing)

Swinging, Swinging
On the tire swing
When days are hot
When days are cold
On the tire swing
Forward, Backward
Round and round we go
Isn't it fun to be here
Swinging with me?

I sang it once, and as soon as I was done, my little man said 'again'.  And so I sang it again, and again, and again.  Occasionally some of the words would change, other verses got thrown in or repeated more often than others.

As I sang I kept us moving.  We would swing back and forth, and sometimes, with the help of gravity, the swinging would cause an upset in the delicate weight balance I had created and he would almost slip off.  He thought it was awesome.  His squeals of laughter made it all worth it.  My foot not acting as a weight balance, was perfectly positioned to swing us back and forth, and to spin us round and round and round.

The spinning was by far his favorite part.  I could see the concentration on his face as he held on to the chains just a little bit tighter to keep himself from flying off the swing.  Occasionally I would lift my foot off the ground completely and our spinning would continue.

The feeling of spinning freely, coupled with the gleeful laughter of my boy, made me feel like a child again myself.

For the first time in a long time I was really enjoying the act of playing with my son.  As parents, we all will make sacrifices for our children.  Whether its playing tea party for the umpteenth time, or holding up a ball so they can whack at it (and you) with a baseball bat.  I play with my son a lot, sometimes I flat out dislike it, sometimes its tolerable, and sometimes its fun.

But on that tire swing, it was amazing.  I felt so alive, and so thankful to be sharing this moment with my little man.  I felt like I had turned a corner and there was no going back, I feel like, by taking that chance to be part of my sons life, instead of capturing it for others to 'par-take' in, I found a source of true enjoyment.

I am learning how to enjoy playing with my little boy, and for that gift I will be forever grateful.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words - but I'm beginning to disagree.  I think a moment is worth a thousand words - if you choose to participate in it.  If you choose to just be a bystander, capturing that moment on film, then all you have taken away is a picture.  If you jump into the moment and become part of it, then you have not only an experience, but a memory, which is much more powerful, and personal than a picture.



~Mom of Moments