To the moms of littles at the playground:

This post is written to you but not about you. I was you, and I somehow thought I’d be you forever. But here I am with a teenager and a preteen, and I am constantly biting my lip to keep the words, “Enjoy it, it goes so fast!” from flying out on the regular to my hot-mess-but-beautiful toddler mom friends.

This isn’t about that though. This is about a moment we had at the park yesterday that has really stuck with me.

Yesterday was an E-learning day, which means my kids stay home and do their schoolwork on their computers. Now that they’re older, they seldom need my help with this, so I did work while they studied. I had bribed them with an afternoon of ice cream and the park. All they had to do was finish their E-learning, help each other without bloodshed, and fold and put away their laundry.

I was secretly happy this simple bribe worked. They finished their work, as did I, and we headed to the park after lunch.

We went to one of our favorite local playgrounds, one we went to constantly when the kid were little. There is a tire swing at this park that my kids have always been obsessed with. They’ve waited in line for that swing, got motion sick on that swing, screamed and laughed and fallen off completely while on that swing.

This time when they climbed on, they barely fit. I even caught a look of dismay on their faces as they finagled their legs. I had another one of those little heart pangs I get all too often anymore when something my kids used to do so easily doesn’t work quite as well anymore. But they crammed their gangly legs in the tire anyways and begged me to push them.

However, before I could, a tiny boy came up and wanted to try pushing them. He couldn’t have been more than three years old. Patiently, the kids let him push them (even though he barely could because they were so heavy) for a little bit. After awhile, we tried to encourage him to stand off to the side so I could really give my kids a solid push with a good spin.

As we coaxed him off to the side, his mom approached. She seemed nice enough, but I could tell by her face she was annoyed my big kids were taking up the swing. She tried to move her son out of the way, but he threw himself to the ground to throw a fit. She left him there, even though he was a little too close to the swing for us to spin without hitting him. I made a couple small talk comments to her, which she ignored, clearly trying to out-wait us on the tire swing.

The vibe was this:  she was leaving him there so we would get off the swing and let him get on.

I remember being the mom of a little. I remember being her. I used to watch the big kids at playgrounds. They were so rough and rambunctious….sprinting across the mulch, jumping off slides, shoving each other, swinging aggressively on swings, bouncing the spider web mountain thing. I remember feeling irritated, wishing their parents would rein them in, wishing they’d hang out someplace else so the littles could have their place to play.

I resisted the urge to rush my kids away from the swing for two reasons. One: we had just gotten on. Two: they were having fun, and even though they’re big, they had just as much of a right to enjoy it for a couple minutes.

But now that I’m here, I see it for what it is. When the bigs play at the park or on a playground, they feel small again. And their mom, who is watching from the sidelines and is more hands off than she realized she’d be this soon, is reveling in their laughter and joy.

Because when they’re not playing at a playground, these bigs are dealing with huge emotions. They’re dealing with midnight heart to heart talks. They’re dealing with hurt feelings and crushes and popularity and school projects and bullying. Their bodies are changing, their voices are changing, their friends and hobbies and sometimes even their families are changing. They’re old enough to have lost grandparents. They’re old enough to maybe have even lost a friend or a parent. They’re old enough to feel stressed, sense their parents’ emotions and moods, and maybe even make mistakes that have big consequences.

While their triumphs are bigger…making teams, getting good grades, earning our trust…their failures can carry more weight and make them question themselves. They don’t fit on our laps quite as well anymore, and they struggle to figure out where they fit in the world.

While those tiny years were so hard on the body (no sleep, constant chasing, so much sweating, haha), the teen years (also full of so many amazing and beautiful moments) are much harder on the heart.

So to the mom of that squishy sweet little boy who wanted on the tire swing, I know how you feel. I really do. I was you, mildly irritated at these big kids taking up the swings at the playground. But please forgive me if I made your little guy wait just a couple more minutes so I could watch my big kids play carefree for a little bit longer.

Because when the bigs play and find happiness at the playground, I do too. ❤