Swingers

Get your mind out of the gutter.  It's not what you think.  After all, this is a family column.
With the recent snap of mild weather we've been enjoying thanks to the jet stream staying in the Great White North all season, we've been able to enjoy some time outdoors pretty much since the early end of mid-March.
Our two-and-a-half year old daughter enjoys it.  Which is refreshing to hear, with most parents complaining about their children disintegrating in front of the fabled idiot box.
Last summer, my wife and I had a swing built in our back yard, complete with a tandem, baby swing, 'big girl' swing, jungle gym and slide. 
We almost without exception, drop what we're doing and escort her outside so she can play on it.  Even if we're tired ourselves, we muster up a little more energy to accomodate her request.
Having looked like "The Michelin Man" while still in the baby stage, much of her baby fat rolls have melted away, and other than a little pot belly, she's
pretty much going to inherit Daddy's metabolic system.
Which I miss terribly.  The days where I could eat enough to feed a Third World country and not gain a pound, giving way to where I gain a pound just by cooking a meal and inhaling its aroma. 
Nonetheless, we're happy at the fact that Savannah's physically active.  Not just for the sake of her own physical fitness, but our mental and physical fitness as well.
A good workout on the swing, followed by a nice warm bath, generally results in a good night's sleep.  One where there's some initial protest, but silence after about five minutes upon laying her down in her crib.
That's usually 'alone time' for my wife and me, which she uses to prepare Savannah's lunch the following day, and I take care of uncorking the bottle and pouring the wine.
Yep...there's the ulterior motive!


NEXT WEEK:  Party in da Crib