Swingset mania!

Cavan's swing set was delivered and installed on Monday. First of all, I can only reflect my astonishment when the two strapping lads unloaded hundreds of pounds of lumber and accessories out of the truck and to our site ON THEIR BACKS in only two trips! Then, they put the whole thing together in just about an hour! I know that this is their job and they do this all day, but still, watching them power assemble this gigantic fort was a sight to see (not to mention a lesson in efficiency).

The swing set was delivered at about 5 p.m., but the delivery window in which I had to be home was between three and six. So I picked Cavan up from daycare and arrived home at 2:30. The wait between 2:30 and 6:00, when the swing set was finally ready for action, was nearly unbearable for Cavan. It was more exciting for her than Christmas. Every few minutes until the truck arrived, Cavan would run to the window to see if "it was here yet?" And it was all I could do to pry Cavan away from the construction site as the men were working. And while all this anticipation should have made for giddy excitement on the first run up the gang plank and whoosh down the side, by the time it was ready, Cavan had reached the I'm-hungry-and-beyond-cranky mood (hunger tantrums seem to run on Mommy's side of the family, even now!) But she couldn't be pried away from the swing set to eat anything. She didn't even want the no-fail sippy. So I resigned to be "mean mommy," and brought her inside, kicking and screaming until she ate a bowl of beans.

Full-tummy success! Now we were working with a happy camper again. Everything went great until Cavan was climbing the metal-runged ladder (I was sitting in the fort and Bret was standing behind her video-taping on and off) and she announced "I have to pee!" while simultaneously letting go with both hands. Cat-like parent reflexes to the rescue. In that momentary pause before gravity takes over, Bret lunged for Cavan from the ground and I snagged a handful of her coat from above. Phew. Another near-miss moment in child-rearing.

Skip to Thursday (the middle days were rainy). Cavan was goofing around on the swings, lying on the sling on her belly. She was barely rocking herself back and forth, laughing hysterically, when suddenly she lost her balance and fell face-first into the dirt. She cried hysterically for about 30 seconds, but only out of shock. I tried not to laugh equally as hard because her entire face and white-blonde hair was caked with moist, super-dark dirt--up her nose, in her eyelashes, between her teeth. Thinking he would find it equally as amusing (since she was not hurt and hopefully learned a valuable lesson about balance and the usefulness of holding on with your hands), I carried Cavan down to see Hubby. But Hubby didn't have the anticipated reaction (though after knowing the man for eight years, I should have known this). Rather, he proclaimed the swing set a "death trap," especially after Cavan's ladder antics earlier in the week. Oh, the drama. Of course I don't want Cavan to injure herself on the swing set, but kids learn by "falling," literally and metaphorically. Usually mothers are the overprotective creatures in the family, but the gender roles appear to be reversed in this case.

Needless to say, this purchase is already worth the price we paid. My only frustration is that Cavan no longer wants to garden with me and instead insists that I watch her on her playground. But I love that too. I guess gardening will become a nap-time exclusive for a while!