If kinetic is an adjective, this kid's the verb

Now that he can push the pedals without a gently nudging hand on his back, now that he feels free to steer and even stand to propel his bicycle up playground equipment ramps and over the hill at each crosswalk that connects pebbly sidewalks to potholed streets, I can feel the empowered sense of self puffing up inside his down vest.

And I get it. Sometimes when I see the kids swinging upside down on the monkey bars, I remember what it felt like to go around and around them, my shorts carefully worn underneath a skirt, my shirt meticulously tucked into a waistband. I would have died for a classmate to see my Wonder Woman Underoos or white cotton undershirt with pink rosebuds sprinkled over it. But as soon as I rounded the bars, one leg bent over the top and the other jutting out and straightened to steady the forward momentum, I forgot about all that.

If I close my eyes I can still feel my long blond hair hanging down, see my shadow on the black rubber mats below, and get a chill from the breeze I was making myself by whipping around and around. Or maybe the chill was from the feeling of swooping through the air for those 30 seconds, no worries, no shoes solidly placed on the ground.

My hands would burn from gripping the metal bars. The backs of my knees would get all red. I would have to wait in line to get back up there and hope I could get another turn in before the bell rang, calling us immediately inside to sit and squirm in our seats for a few more hours. But all that was worth it for a few minutes of that freedom. [Plenty of pictures after the jump]

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He'll always be my best boy. No matter what he said that night.

There are those moments with children after a marriage ends and there is a fissure in a family that can be taken personally. Too personally.

Those moments when a small child says what he's thinking, not knowing how raw it can be for the parent to hear. Those moments when a kid is just a kid and none of the weighty emotional stuff that cracked a house in two factor into his words. 

Those moments when a parenting agreement or heated text messages or disagreements about how bedtimes and McDonald's and Scooby Doo are all handled in different homes, all give way to some simple sentence shot out of your kid's mouth. Usually during the most intimate moments -- snuggling just before saying goodnight, laughing during bath time, talking about the day over dinner, hugging goodbye before you send them off to be with the other parent.

It could be a dagger to the heart, yes. But most of the time -- and I say this completely honestly -- it is funny.  Sure, my feelings get hurt on occasion. But there will soon enough be plenty more for him to deal with -- some of it pretty heavy -- as a child of divorced parents. For now, I choose to laugh.

Or at least I did the night Lil E and I were cuddled up in his bed. We'd read a book and he was beaming because he recognized and read several words on the pages. I hugged him harder, planted kisses all over his face that made him giggle and squeal, "You giving me nee-nees!," the same as he has since he was one.

I turned off the lights, pulled him in even closer and whispered what I say to him often.

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Earth Day Post: What I am dreaming of on Earth Day

http://www.treehugger.com/galleries/2009/03/the-most-beautiful-waves-ever.php?page=1

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