Monday, April 16, 2012


It is a chilly Friday morning.  Isaac and I are driving home from his latest speech therapy session.  His favorite MuteMath song is playing, and he sings along, softly under his breath.  He is swinging his legs and hitting the back of my seat.   The heat is on, but the windows are rolled's one of those Spring mornings.  

On this particular day, we don't have shopping to I decide to take him to one of the parks nearby.  I am emboldened by the breeze.  Yes.  I am taking him to Preston's Hope...a playground of wonder for children, and utter terror for adults.  

The entire playground is handicap that means they can go everywhere and anywhere via a ramp or a slide.  For those parents who aren't normal, this may sound entertaining.  Trust me.  It's a stress test disguised as a place of fun.  But, once and awhile I feel confident that I can keep track of my busybody son.

We enter the playground and take off running.  Literally.  Here we go.  

Isaac hits up the firehouse...climbing on the ride-on emergency vehicles that spring back and forth.  Then, it's off to the "runway of doom" (I fondly named it this because it's an elevated walkway leading to some of the playhouses)--where you are most certain to loose track of your child.  Like a ball in a pinball machine, Isaac bounces from one exciting moment to the next, and I'm flailing behind him.  

As we arrive at his favorite slide, I sit at the bottom to catch my breath as he slides down a few times.  

I smile when he gives a little girl a turn.  
I laugh when he comes down the slide backward.
I cringe when he hits the ground.  

Interestingly enough...this playground is one of the only places that I find myself trailing Isaac, and where he isn't bound to follow me.  

He heads to the wall to climb.  I let him go.

I rush after him, chasing him as he giggles and screams.  
Okay, maybe screams a little too much--people are looking at me funny....

We get to the wall on the other side of the playground (making sure to sample each and every activity on the way...)

And here is where I am in awe.  I watch this boy scale this wall in record time.  His hands and feet flow smoothly over the handles and footsteps, like he could maneuver this in his sleep.  He is a natural.  

I smile when he reaches the top.
I laugh when he throws his arms in the air, "Rocky" style.
I cringe when I think that he'll be scaling walls bigger than this one someday...and he won't need me to be there.

As we maneuver through the changes to come...preschool ending; new IEP, school, teachers, friends coming this fall with Kindergarten, I am reminded that life is just a big playground.   

And climbing walls is something Isaac does best.