Friday, February 20, 2015

51. Swings

To a two-year-old, a swing is the best thing in the world. It's the closest she can get to flying. It's freedom itself. 
We get to the park and Jane immediately runs to the swings. Big surprise. Her favorite is one of those baby swings that has had the front cut off and replaced with a simple, plastic-covered chain. This way she can sit back and not worry about her hiney slipping out behind her, but she feels like a big girl because she is free in front. She's been able to hold onto the arm chains without a problem for months now, so I don't worry. 
I lift Jane into the swing, clip the safety chain into place, and push. Swinging is awesome! My little girl is the happiest kid in the world. "More!" she screams. So I push her higher. "More! Bigger!" I'm enjoy her giggles of delight as she soars through the air. Hooray! Life is good! This is the best!
Until it's not.
Apparently there IS such a thing as "too high." Instead of slipping backward, Jane slips forward on a too-high back-swing. Her skin body quickly slides through the narrow gap between seat and safety chain (physics, anyone?) 
Unfortunately for little Jane, her head is not quite so slim as her body, and chin catches on the chain. Too short to reach the ground and two light to fall, the poor girl dangles from the suddenly-stopped swing. The jerk of the stop dislodges her poor chin, but alas, her cute little two-year-old nose is too much and she gets caught again.
Of course, all of this happens in about a second and a half. Supermom steps into action, unhook poor Jane's nose and let her drop to wood chips.
I have never been such a wonderful, terrible, and then wonderful again mother in such a short amount of time before.

Two minutes later, she's in the swing again.

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