Friday after picking up Lovie from school, we headed to the park. But instead of going to the one we normally stop at, we stopped at one very near her school. We've never been there but I knew there was no water shooting out anywhere nearby and enticing Lovie, much like the park we normally stop at which has a little water area right next to the playground. (And Lovie's been loving the water lately- actually will laugh with glee when she sees water shooting out from anything. This is fine and dandy and fun when we're in the tub but when we're stopping at the park on the way home during the workday, I'm not in any kind of shape or mood to take her in to the water area and it's really not fair to either of us that she see this fun water park.)
This new park was huge and spacious and not very busy. I was very much happy with the decision to stop. There was a smaller playground area for the smaller kids like Lovie and then a much larger, more involved playground for the bigger kids like Lovie will be in 10 years.
Well, guess who wanted nothing to do with the Little's playground and eveyrthing to do with the Bigger's playground?
Yeah, not me. I just wanted shade and sight of Lovie... who wanted nothing to do with the Little's area.
This big playground was like nothing I'd ever seen. Every piece of apparatus was attached to the next. It was really pretty freaking rad, truth be told. But NOT for my almost 18 month old.
But she didn't care.
She wanted to play with the big kids so off she went and climbed, looking to me when she needed help.
And because I'm not in a parenting place yet where I'm OK with her doing her thing completely without me very nearby (particularly in a new open setting), I let her climb (unless a Bigger was nearby in which case, I made her wait till they flew/climbed/monkeyed over us) and helped her if needed and the next thing I knew, my normal observer (I think it took her 10 minutes of her standing just outside the car and scoping out the playground before she even attempted to go to either the Little's side or the Bigger's) climbed up one set of stairs and another and another. And then?
Then she was about to dive down a freaking slide that was so high (how high was it?) that my stomach turned when I looked up at it.
If *I* wouldn't slide down it 100 pounds ago, how on earth could I let Lovie slide down it? By herself!
Holy crap, did I freak out.
I mean, this thing had like four twists and turns it was so high- and I couldn't help but envision her flying over one of the edges instead of turning!
"No!" I shouted up at Lovie as I darted up the steps and scooped her up.
Tears. Screaming. Heart pounding so hard...so loud.
Yeah, guess we won't be going back there for a while.