Monkeying Around

When I was a kid, I liked to climb EVERYTHING. The trees in my neighborhood, fences, walls… 

If I could get a good hand hold and a good foot hold, I was gone. That’s probably why when I was Finley’s age, my parents had me strapped to a harness with a leash.

I really can’t blame them, actually. This past weekend, I got a glimpse at why it’s so important to keep your little monkey in check… especially when you’re out in public.

Momma was at the library studying most of the day, Sunday, so it was just me and the munchkin in our little condo. Normally, we would escape to the park up the street, but it had been snowing most of the day. And even though the snow wasn’t really sticking, it was just a bit too cold for an outdoor excursion.

What we needed was a nice, warm indoor place to get out and stretch. Momma and the girl had been out to the Bellevue Square mall, the week before, and I knew it had quite the kids’ area. So, I bundled the babe up and made a bee-line for Bellevue.

It wasn’t Christmas crowd-crazy, but it was busy enough. I decided to be a bit brave and not bring the stroller, because she’s a big girl, now. I also left the diaper bag in the car on purpose, which turned out to be a good call, since once I plopped her down in the middle of the mall, she shot off like a wind-up toy.

Since I wasn’t carrying anything, I was able to keep up with her. The good news was this is just what we needed… Lots and lots of space for her to run around with no walls to hold her back. The scary thing was that I could see how easy it would be to lose a little one, if you’re not concentrating on them.

She may only be 22 months old, but Finley is a fast one. And she just goes and goes without thinking about anything except how fast she can get to wherever it is she’s heading. I had to steer her away from oncoming traffic and a few doors, but for the most part she was running with the pedal down. Finally, I was able to get her up to the play area, which is where she really let loose.

I’ve seen her play on a few toys at school and she can get up and down the slides at the park fairly well, but in this play area, she showed me how agile she really is.

To set the scene, the play area is a great big soft foam carpet in the middle of a ring of benches, for the parents. The “toys” are actually foam sculptures covered in soft plastic, which seems to be the new ultra-safe way to make playgrounds. So much for the concrete and gravel we had growing up.

In this particular playground, the sculptures have a northwest waterfront theme and there are several boats, including a Washington State Ferry and lots of faux rocks and docks for the kids to climb all over and slide down. And every one of these things was covered with kids.

At first, I figured Finley would be shy, trying to work herself into a space on one of the toys. But I was wrong. As soon as she kicked off her shoes she was up and on top of the tallest toy – the Ferry – surveying the rest of the playground for where she’d go, next.

Of course I was not more than two feet away, waiting for her to make a misstep or if she needed help getting down. I shouldn’t have bothered. She was literally like a monkey using her hands and feet to get her up and on and over and down. I guess when you only weigh 25 pounds, it’s easy to do all this, but she impressed me with her agility.

There were a few moments when I thought I could probably sit down and watch her from one of the benches, but I wasn’t sure, so I became the hovering dad. Just in case. I was never needed, but it made me feel better to at least think I was the spotter for my little gymnast.

Once or twice, she got into a slightly precarious position and looked around for me. But once she caught my eye, she knew she didn’t want me to help, so she figured her way out of her predicament.

And when it was time to go, she didn’t cry or fuss; she just let me get her shoes back on, took my hand, and led me to the escalator.

On the way home, as she was singing along to the music in the car, I wondered how many times she’s going to get into situations where I can’t help her and she has to figure it out for herself. Too many to count, probably. I guess I can only hope she’ll at least be able to look around and know I’m there, just in case. I just have to learn not to be the hovering dad. Eventually, anyway.