If Just For a Moment

My main point of connection with Annalee today, a day that saw me accomplish an ungodly number of tasks away from home and the familial fold, was when I took her to the playground just before dinner for half an hour of slow fun. We played with the ship-telephone system, taking turns talking and listening, and then Annalee made the first of several meandering trips up the play equipment stairs. Generally, but not always, she will get to the top of the stairs and head straight down the nearest slide (within a minute or so, anyway), but tonight she chose to wait four or five minutes before heading down the four-foot slide. The long wait did not diminish her joy, or the smile on her face, as she slid. Near the end of our time at the playground, she climbed the stairs to the higher platform and its opposing pair of longer slides, one straight and one curly, positioning herself at the takeoff point for the fastest slide in the park (it's the straight one). She waited just a few seconds and started down, her arms squeaking on the plastic behind her as she flew. Again, she was present for her own accomplishment, wonder, and joy. To slow down, if for just a moment.