We all do it. Sit on the swing. Backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards; stick your legs out, bring them back in, stick your legs out, bring them back in; lean forwards, lean back, lean forwards, lean back.
Take kids to the park. Inevitably, “Granny will you push me?” Increasingly, I’ve been aware that one day they will be able to swing themselves. As they get older, the baby swings get too small and are only suitable for favoured soft toys. So I’ve made pushing kids on swings a priority.
At our little seaside getaway, the playground is next door, but one. The kids run out to play and you have five minutes peace to accomplish some complicated task. Running feet. “Granny, will you push me?”
I’m so glad I dropped everything to comply or made swing dates. I’m so glad we had “one last swing, before you go home”. Because now the youngest two have learnt to swing themselves.