We went to the beach today. Just a central Alberta lake, with stagnant water that smells slightly of manure and a coating of slimy algae around the shoreline. But there was sand and shovels and buckets and castles were built and holes were dug. The brave among us even swam. (Read: not the mammas.) We basked in the sun and inhaled our vitamin D.
Leaving, we took a last stop at the playground on the way to the car. Haven had been asking to swing since we first arrived and was delighted that it was finally time.
I push her higher and higher in the baby swing and underduck her just two-year old frame. She laughs with glee and I catch her joy and soon we are both singing a chorus of bliss, my mama laughter freed by her carefree pleasure in the everyday. It can’t go too high and it can’t go too fast for her. She is talking non-stop, how she always does and there are many rounds played of ‘Push me mama’ followed by ‘Catch me mama’. Over and over and over.
Then out of the blue. ‘Me fly like bird mama’. Yes. Yes, you do love. Please don’t ever forget it.