You know when you can’t play Candyland or pretend to be a crocodile one. more. time.
I needed freedom today. I wasn’t going to get it.
So I got us all some freedom. We went out in a field by a pond. They ran. I sort of stumbled behind them. They fell in the grass and rolled around. I fell in the grass and lay there. But their sparkle returned–which wasn’t there at home with a very tired mother just mumbling her lines when asked to be a monkey, or a beetle, or a bus. We jumped after grasshoppers and dove towards butterflies. We fed the ducks and talked to the turtles. No following playground rules out here, no need to be quiet, no saying, “Be careful! Watch out for the baby! Don’t touch that!” In a world of playgroups and gym class and picnics and museums and storytime: freedom.
Totally. We go up to the ‘area’ up the road – a landslip area that’s being re-forested. Lu and the dog tear like wild things and I just stand back.
Alternatively we play a game where I’m a kangaroo and just make clicking sounds in response to Lu’s monologue. Many a blog post has been written than way.
Nice! A big field of grass to roll around in. Way to lead the troops to fun and freedom.
I love those days. It sometimes seems like hard work to get there, but once you break free of the house you realise how much you need the release. Sky good. Fields and pond. Soul magic.
Oh, I think you’ve inspired a craving… I’m dying for just that feeling, and you’re right — the difference between a playground and a place to play is enormous.
Must. get. outdoors.