Life has gotten in the way of my blog. My sincere apologies to my fans – all six of you. One of the culprits is our “puppy” – more on him later. The other culprit, is my weekly blog for Woman’s Hospital. A mom can only have so much content! With that said, I thought I’d share a recent post from there:
All of my kids love to swing. It began at infancy, when the gentle sway of the baby swing would ease them to sleep and simultaneously calm me.
When Claire was 18 months old, her grandparents gave us a play set with three swings. I was pregnant with Edwin at the time and Claire waited ever so patiently as her dad, grandfather and uncle spent two weekends assembling it. It wasn’t long until we added an infant swing and swinging became our daily ritual.
Soon after the twins arrived, Claire began to learn how to pump her legs and swing herself. We replaced worn swings and eventually added two new infant swings. I mastered the skill of swinging three kids and could even do so with a cold beer in hand.
After a while, this simple pleasure became a chore.
“SWING MEEE!” “SWING MEEEEEEEEEE!”, they’d demand.
I dreamed of the day when they could swing themselves and I could enjoy a conversation with my husband or a friend. We’d go to a friend’s house for a birthday party or play date and I would be sweltering in the heat, swinging kids while my friends were enjoying conversation inside.
“Swing on your stomach or pump your legs,” I’d tell them as I retreated back to the house.
A few months ago, it was obvious that David and Cate were not going to need me to push them much longer. At almost four, my “babies” had finally learned to “pump.” Realizing that I would one day look back and long for these days, I promised myself that anytime they asked me to swing, I would do so.
After a stressful and long day last week, David, Cate and I went outside to play with the dog.
“Swing me, Momma,” Cate said in her sweetest voice.
The air was sweet with the taste of Spring and for the next half hour I pushed them as they laughed in the glow of the setting sun. I’d pull their feet and make them go higher as they squealed in delight.
Every so often, there’s a moment as a mom that rises above the chaos, the chores and the crying. This was one of those moments so sweet that I knew I had to savor it and soak it in.