Just A Swingin’

Scientists say that the reason babies like to be rocked so much is that it reminds them of the sensation they had in the womb when their mothers would walk and move. Perhaps that explains my lifelong love of porch swings, swing sets, and now, our hammock.

Some of my earliest memories involve playing on the swing set in our back yard. When I was five, I broke my arm pretending to be Mary-Lou Retton by attempting to swing from the hanging bar on the neighbor’s swing set. In high school, a small group of friends and I would randomly yell “Swing Time!” in my middle of “cruising” our town on a weekend night (that, my friends, is another post for another time). We would hop in a car, drive to the local elementary school, race to the swingset and swing as high as we could for a few minutes before jumping out and heading back to town. The joys of small-town life.

I was introduced to a porch swing shortly after my parents’ divorced and my brother, mom and I moved to a small condinium in town. All the social neighbors had porch swings under their carports (as did we). On weekend evenings, the parents of all my friends sat around under a carport drinking wine coolers and beers while the kids rode their bikes and played spotlight around the neighborhood. Most of my evenings spent in my home town during my college years involved late nights crunching on fruit-flavored Certs and sipping sweet tea on the front porch swings at my friends’ Jason or Stephanie’s house. Never my porch. We didn’t have a swing at our new house.

Last year we bought a porch swing for our new patio. I sat in it the better part of the summer. This year, we (and by we, I mean my husband) built a fantastic pergola which we were able to hang a hammock between the posts. And this is where I plan to spend the greater portion of this summer watching the kids play in the grass. Back and forth, back and forth. Nothing is quite so soothing as the rocking of a swing.

I think it’s the idea that people who sit in swing are doing nothing else. Except perhaps visiting with a neighbor or friend. When I’m in the swing or hammock, I’m not thinking about my schedule or to-do list (at least I’m trying not to think about it) or where I have to be tomorrow. I’m enjoying creation, listening to my children giggle. I’m in the moment. Maybe it’s not quite as warm and comfortable as being back in the womb – but it just might be the next best thing.