Getting into the Swing of Being a Big Kid

So, I think it's kind of official. Collin has decided he's in love; and for the second time, it's with a girl named Grace. The first time he was in love with a Grace, she gave him his first kiss on a playground in Alabama and I thought that was so heartbreakingly cute that I might never recover my senses.

Now, if we aren't out the door to our new park by the time the rooster crows in the morning, you'd better believe a tantrum is eminent. I thought it was just because he loved parks, or that he enjoyed being a monkey. But, the more we play there, the more I'm suspicious that he's in love with Grace, who arrives moments before or moments after us every day.

If there are other children there, he hangs near his sweet Grace, who like him, is quiet and observant, rather than loud and screeching. She is patient with him, in that older and wiser way, and doesn't throw a fit when he takes ALL the sand toys from her. She takes his hand and leads him to a shady part of the park where they pick grass or make piles of stones that make sense to them and she doesn't cry to her mother when he bashes them over after she's made an intricate pattern. Three and eighteen months have never made such a beautiful pair.

But, she's making him grow up so fast! My sweet boy who could relish the breeze of the baby swing for hours decided today that nothing but the big boy swing would do. Having watched Miss Grace gliding back and forth on it all morning, he simply would not be put in the baby swing and wanted nothing to do with it. So, we tried the big boy swing, to mixed reviews.

First, he imitated her belly swinging, only to realize that he's not quite ready for that coordinated of a move and that it pinches his fat arms. No matter how many times he tried, the squeals of pain did not sound like laughter. What's worse, his little feet couldn't touch the ground once he hopped up and he was hopelessly stuck.

Next he begged to be put up on the seat like his doppelganger. Alas, this was better and I nearly wanted to cry for how grown up he looked...for the brief moment he hung on and kicked his feet in glee at how proud he was for sitting like a big kid. He giggled and was so happy. Then, he went to pat his head...his sign for being happy and he knows it (get it?) Guess what happened??

We tried again...and again...and again...and again...each time, he got so happy with himself that he wanted to pat his head. So, while I'm sad that he's "ready" for the big boy swing, I'm a little relieved that he's not quite as ready as he thinks he is and totally amused at why.

Besides, how adorable is it that your kid always pats his head when he's happy and he knows it!

And just for posterity's sake, perhaps the last picture of my sweet boy in a baby swing!

P.S. This is Collin signing, "All Done." Appropriate, no?