She's Not Pumping!

Since he was big enough to sit in a swing, Cal has always enjoyed a good swing session.  Consistent with the risk-averse nature of his mother, he never wants to go too high, or “fast fast fast,” a rule which he has no qualms letting us know we’re in the process of breaking.  Cal prefers “medium fast,” and would swing for hours at “medium fast” if Dan and I didn’t time box the swing session.

We used to have to go to the park in our subdivision to swing.  It was great.  Cal would always opt for the bucketed baby swing (safer) and would talk incessantly about anything that popped into his mind as Dan or I pushed him in it.  Oftentimes, he’d break into song, more often than not singing Fergie’s “Glamorous.”  “G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S, yeah, G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S… flying first class up in the sky… champagne, living the life…” he’d sing. And he would only stop talking or singing if he needed to inform us strongly we were going “too fast fast fast” or to say “hi” to the “grills” (girls) at the park.

That was last summer.  Earlier this summer we bought and assembled a playground set for our own backyard.  Complete with two swings, a slide, a climbing wall, a lookout deck and a trapeze, this has been our replacement for those trips to the neighborhood park.  The kids can just go out our back door and be at a park.  It’s fantastic in its convenience – it’s no longer an event to go swing for a bit.

At 3-1/2 years old, we believe that Cal should start learning how to swing himself and have repeatedly impressed this upon him over the course of the summer and, now, the fall.  It hasn’t been easy – swinging is one of those things that just seems so natural, so instinctive.  Judging from Cal’s resistance to it, it’s not as instinctive as I think it is.  It’s also not that easy to teach – “kick out going forward, pull back going backward” isn’t sufficient as you have to get some of your arms and body into it, pulling you up.

Respecting this is new to Cal and not so natural for him, Dan and I compromise, telling him we’ll push him on the swing as long as he tries to “pump” as we push him.  This historically hasn’t gone as smoothly as we hope.  We stop pushing Cal when we see his legs not pumping, he “yells” at us to push him, we tell him he’s not pumping, he responds he is and starts pumping his legs, and we start pushing again.  And the cycle is repeated several times until we realize we’re the parents and in control of the situation and will not be bossed around by a kid.  Swinging with Cal is typically a struggle that oftentimes ends in a swing session cut short because it’s just not fun for anyone.

This past weekend, we had a swing session that was headed that direction.  This time, we used Ella, swinging next to him, as incentive to pump… or thought we were using her as incentive.  Here’s how that went down:

Cal <whining>: “Push me!”

Me: “You’ve got to pump, Baby Bear.”

Dan: “Look at Ella <kicking her feet in a scissors motion> -- she’s pumping. She’ll probably figure out how to swing by herself sooner than you do.”

Cal: “She’s not pumping!”

Dan and Me <in unison>: “Yes, she is!”

Cal: “She’s not pumping – she’s kicking!”

He had us.  She was, in fact, just kicking, but we didn’t admit that.  We just let the exchange end there.

Shortly after that, Dan announced it was time to get off the swings and head inside.  He stopped swinging Ella, hoisted her out of her swing and then started doing the countdown, “10… 9… 8… 7…” which was interrupted by Cal who insisted he do the countdown himself,  “10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1.”  I stopped pushing him after “1.” He started to coast toward a stop and then, unannounced and out of nowhere, started pumping his feet without any instigation. His swing kept going back and forth as he continued to pump.  He was doing it!  I could even see him pull back on the swing with his arms and body as he pumped his legs forward.  He kept swinging… and swinging… and swinging.  Here's the tail end of it on video:

 

I, of course, smothered him with praise and excitement over this, which was met with a proud smile extending across his face.  Could it be that we’re turning the corner, that he’ll be able to swing by himself?  Stay tuned.  If I’ve learned anything in my nearly four years of being a parent, it’s that there is almost always a setback on the road to post-toddlerhood.