A lot like playtime

The better weather has found me outside quite often lately. That's not to say my brighter disposition hasn't also been responsible for soaking up more of the sun and less of the Internet. But a warm, seemingly-stable environment can inspire the very best of me.

Cienna, Ty and I have been enjoying walking trails and appreciating nature. If parenting were judged like presidency, my legacy would definitely involve signing treaties with my kids to promise respect for diversity and nature. And, you know, with the latter, that's not because I remember to recycle every week or never leave a light on when I'm away. I'm just so serious about my kids getting outside and away from the media that inevitably consumes our lives.

Like any mom, I hope to leave my kids with a solid education, a health plan, happy memories and the ability to manage money. But there are so many intangibles that I believe really contribute to our emotional wealth. Like watching planes take off and dreaming of anywhere. Sitting around a bonfire with your best friends on nights you feel like you solve the world, or at least yourself. Driving home from work and having that a-ha moment when you realize you're in love with someone, and even if there were no rush hour you still wouldn't feel like you could get to them fast enough. Lazy Saturday afternoons with nobody but you and movies you know by heart, which you gladly quote like a dork from your favorite pajamas--that aren't hot at all. Building a network of people in your life who may only have you in common because they're just that different from each other, and you can't imagine your life without even one of them. Long walks around a short block, but it's the best walk because it's yours.

None of those things can truly happen in front of a computer, TV or video game. And I'm not anti-any of that. In fact, I enjoy all of those things. I just think they require balance. So I wouldn't have a ban on those in our house, but I'd encourage my kids to go out as much as they stay in.

Every time we go out, we ultimately end up at a park. There are many in our neighborhood, and I feel like half of them are near our house. We always stop to play, and Cienna always makes at least one friend. Tyler always stares cautiously before he takes off, giggling, to where he's decided most fun--a clear combination of Larry and me.

The sounds you hear at a playground for 30 minutes are really a lot like what you hear during a lifetime. There are people cultivating new relationships--sometimes it's two moms comparing Babies 'R Us to Target, sometimes it's two toddlers bonding over a see-saw. There are laughs--sometimes it's two dads discussing late-night talk shows they had to DVR because they're too tired to make it to 11 p.m., sometimes it's two preschoolers playing hide-and-go-seek. There are tears--sometimes it's because a parent saw their baby run through a field of dandelions for the first time, sometimes it's because said baby wasn't ready to leave. There are bruises and bee-stings. There are small snacks and full picnics. There's sunshine and shade.

And just like the see-saw, none of the ups or downs last too long.