Just Go to the Playground

About 6 months ago I was on an unusually early run to complete some errands with Henry and Eliana. I needed to return Ollie the Stomper to the library. I pulled in, put it in the drop box and then noticed a sign on the drop box. The sign posted the new library hours due to state funding cuts. It lamented the fewer hours, but also affirmed its commitment to serving the community and being part of the solution during these “tough economic times.” Henry, who likes to talk non-stop and who is therefore very easy to ignore was asking me something over and over again. I finally tuned in, ”Why you not moving, mama?” I explained I was reading the notice about the library. We then engaged in our very typical mother-son conversation. “What that sign say, mama?”
I explained that the library wasn’t going to be open as much, but I assured him we’d still be able to go, look at books and have fun taking down the giant lion and bear and abusing them thoroughly with the other young children. “Why it not open as much?” “Money, honey,” I sighed. “There isn’t enough money…everyone is having money problems these days.” We have talks about money. They usually revolve around wanting to kidnap quarters for him to stash away for trips to the grocery store where he can buy candy. We have had a few exchanges about daddy needing to work and make money, especially since he started working from home. I became a bit somber as I pulled away and stopped, waiting for the light to turn green.
I have been thinking about money. I am a stay-at-home mom.I liked making money, and I like spending it. I like fresh produce, and new shoes, and buying gifts for people, and traveling, and even giving it away. I am always wondering, should I look for a part-time job, should I go back to teaching…the money would be helpful. At that moment though, I really wasn’t thinking of anything, except that everyone really does seem to have money on their minds.
There was a brief silence—it was still relatively early in the day, before 9, the streets were quiet, serene. Then Henry said, with the most brilliant tone, “Go to the playground!” I said, “You mean since the library will be closed more, we should just go to the playground more?" “Yeah,” he replied nonchalantly.
Not a bad idea, is it? A nice way to think of it, really. I mean here we are fretting over this and that, do I get that ice cream I want from the store…or, do I stay within the budget? Do I splurge and take the kids to dairy queen, or just go on home? (note the clear ice cream theme) These are, of course, frivolous questions that one may ask during “tough times.” A trip to the playground may replace an ice cream absence nicely, right? But, more pressing matters abound. Can we really afford $1,000 a month for health care? Or, should we just roll the dice and see what happens?
Going to the playground may seem like a completely inequitable trade, no doubt. But what else is a playground except a place to interact with the community at large. At the playground you never know who you might meet. At the playground, you never know what dreams may be inspired, or burdens shared or prayers answered. Just go to the playground…that place that stands as a reminder of community and, with children chasing one another, stands as a reminder of our future hope, belief …dreams. Just go to the playground. During these tough times, I have to say that once again my 2/12 year old son has proven to be the sage and genius I believe him to be.

Getting Started

I have been at home with my children, Henry and now Eliana for nearly three years. Becoming a mother has so completely transformed me -- from the way I look to the way I eat to the way I think, or don't, about the world, others and my place in it. Motherhood remains all at once exhilarating and devastating. After all, it is love--as messy as the poo-painted crib and as beautiful as chasing the dog in spring grass.

I came across this quote by one of my favorites, Pablo Neruda. To getting started:

"Someday, somewhere--anywhere, unfailingly, you'll find yourself and that, and only that, can be the happiest or bitterest hour of your life."