Today the three of us found ourselves on a playground. While the boys played on the jungle gym, I decided I felt like a swing.

Before long, a girl about 9 joined me and began to swing. We engaged in small talk. Soon we were pumping our legs in sync, seeing who could swing higher. I felt her age.

“Lean backwards like this!” she demonstrated falling back and looking behind her on the swing.

Before I could let my usual adult excuses kick in, I leaned back. I felt exhilaration, fear, and the familiar.

“It makes me a little uncomfortable to do that, but at the same time, I like it,” she explained in uncanny adult language.

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

After that lesson, she also urged me to close my eyes while swinging. I got that same mix of fear and freedom.

Why as adults do we lose the ability to let go like this? Why did it take a stranger — a child to get me to free myself, if only for 5 minutes?

photo credit: tazmany

Max has always been Mama’s boy. I don’t mean it in a negative way; he’s just always preferred my company, and we’re more alike. But lately I’ve felt him slipping away. I knew it would come, but couldn’t prepare.

For my husband, it’s great. Max is more physical now, which means they wrestle and fight a lot while I look on over the book I’m reading. I don’t resent them spending more time together; I’m glad of it. I just feel a little…well, empty.

And in place of snuggling up with me, he’s arguing with me. The Hub and I recognize that it’s a power struggle, but it’s one I’m not interested in engaging. Today I took away his iPhone in an effort to show him that arguing relentlessly has consequences. He seemed to get it.

I feel like we’re already embarking on teendom, and I’m not ready. After all, he’s only 7!

We gave up on going out for New Year’s when we had Max. I think we’ve been out alone once in 7 years. But as he’s gotten older, it’s gotten more fun. This year, we played charades and had a dance party, as well as played wii Mario Kart. It was a blast. At midnight, we blew our horns out the window as others in San Francisco screamed and cheered.

I was glad I wasn’t at a bar. I was glad I wouldn’t have to fight the crowds to come home. I was glad I was already in my pjs. I was glad to be ringing in the new year with the boys I love best.

Happy New Year, family style, y’all.