Spring has sprung here at Chez Pair, and with the warming weather the kids are spending more and more time outside. You recall that last year we got a lovely swingset that both of the kids really loved. Now that we’re out more, the kids are finally swinging and sliding, getting back into the swingset groove.

We’re trying to teach Noise how to swing for himself, but for the most part both kids require pushing. They’re pretty bossy about the whole thing (indeed, both kids are struggling with being Little Dictators these days,) telling us to push harder, catch them in midair, etc. Which is fine, except that our yard is atrocious and it would be so much more handy if we could do other things outside while the kids played on their swingset or the pirate ship. The entire time they are on the swingset, it’s “MOMMYMOMMYMOMMYMOMMYMOMMYMOMMYMOMMY PUSH ME MORE! HIGHER! MORE!”

It gets a little annoying after a bit. It’s a stunning allegory of everyday life with a toddler. You’re doing the best you can, but it’s never enough, they want it more, or different, or they want you to say a certain thing, or the wind is bothering them (yet it’s impossible to swing without creating a wind in your hair,) and they think it’s funniest when you pretend you’ve been kicked, and though they’re enjoying themselves thoroughly, you’re just waiting for it to be over. Because once you get over the cuteness of the first few minutes of giggles, it’s pretty damned boring for you. And also, you’re tired of pushing.

Hubs and I were pushing the kids the other day. I was swinging Funk and Hubs was pushing Noise. Noise prefers his dad to push him, because he really gets him flying, and I’m much more tentative. He was pretty much perpendicular to the ground with each passing push, and loving it.

Noise has grown about four inches since last summer.

Apparently most of this was in his legs.

Because while he was swinging, he kicked his legs forward to practice the swinging motion, and they totally caught on the ground. Because we hadn’t thought to raise up his swing.

And I mean, that kid bit it like I have never seen a kid bite it on the swingset.

He was coming from a backswing, so his momentum was going forward. Once his feet hit, his whole body just kept going forward, until he was face-first in the mud.

It shouldn’t have been funny.

I know this.

But Oh my God I was laughing so hard (once I knew he was allright) that I damn near peed myself.

There was just something about how he looked up, so shocked, and there was actually mud and grass stuck between his teeth– he’d hit the dirt that hard. I practically had to floss his teeth to get all the crap out of it. There was a bite mark in the grass. I know, I know– he really could have hurt himself, knocked out his front teeth, or broken his nose.  But he didn’t. And that image– that moment in time? It was just so damned funny.

Was it funny because it just was? Or because I was so annoyed at the nagging and complaining, that it felt like karmic justice? I truly don’t know. Because sitting here right now, and just thinking about it, I’m getting the giggles all over again.