OK! I admit it. I’m a worry-wart. Worrying about my own kids was bad enough. Worrying about someone else’s is even worse. My least favorite place to take the grandkids was and still is, the park. And naturally, that’s always their first choice when I ask what they want to do. If I can weasel out of it, I will. But sometimes there’s just no way around it, so I watch with my heart in my mouth as they go flying on the swings or ascend the climbing frame. MIND!!
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Kids will be kids.
I guess so. The hardest part of parenting is trying not to be over-protective.
Interesting climbing apparatus. Jumping off swing sets. swinging from monkey bars and the like is all part of being a kid. Deep breathes grandma!
My fear for them probably stems from when I got hit in the face by a kid on a swing when I was young. My own stupid fault, I wasn’t looking where I was going but the thought of that incident has stayed with me to this day. I’ll try to think positive the next time I take them to the park.
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