Baby Swings

I glance in the rear view mirror and see his legs all squished in his rear facing car seat. A rare look of contentment on his face. Some days there is no peace even in his post colic days he still had crying spells and days where nothing would appease him.


But this, this always works a short car ride, a trip to the park . And the swings . How he loved the swings.


I would place him in the baby swings on warm spring afternoons and watch as he smiled and laughed. There was such joy in his eyes and glee that I was always desperate to capture.


And then he learned to walk and run and it was rare he wanted to be confined to a swing but still there would always be a time at the park where only the swings would do.


The baby swings with the bucket seat and holes for chubby legs that I watched him grow into and then just like that grow out of.


Now when we go to the park he races for the “big boy” swings. Not giving a glance to the baby swings. And he shouts “mom push me” and I tell him to pump his legs, in and then out.


And he laughs and yells higher Mommy. Just like that the baby swings are a different memory and he is not that finicky infant . He’s growing up and growing out and he’s pumping his legs and reaching higher and soon he won’t need pushes. He’ll do it all on his own.