playground

one by one, i see them walking up the path. child in hand. child in arms. children running free. they are men. they are fathers. they are stay at home dads.

it's friday at the park and another mother wonders outloud if today is a holiday, if these men are off work. because it seems like a phenomenon to see so many fathers in one place at one time. but, no; i can see it in their walk, the way they carry their backpacks and coolers filled with sippy cups and bottles of breastmilk. these men are primary care givers to their children, they are a rare breed and they know it. they have formed this playgroup for themselves for the same reasons my friends and i began meeting each week. they need it for themselves. and they know their kids need it too. there is comfort in numbers, for everyone. there is comfort in finding a spot in the world where you feel understood.

it's a different energy. and i watch and observe like i often do, i'm a born 'people-watcher'. these men, these dads; they are facinating to watch from a mothers viewpoint. some stand with arms folded across their chests while kids slide and dig. a tattooed father pushes his daughter on a borrowed trike. they are long-haired, buzzed cut, former businessmen, photographers, musicians with mohawks, philosophy majors who read Macbeth while holding their infant daughters.

river wants to swing, and i find myself looking at river's eyes. he's watching. he's observant like i was as a kid. he's keeping his smiles to himself like he often does when he's happy but wants to keep it a secret. he feels that father energy. it's fun. my cheeks hurt from laughing so hard while the dad next to us bounces a ball of his son's head. he's silly. and his kids are eating it up.

everyone is the same, women and men. we all want the same joys and lessons and happiness for our children. yet everyone is different. you can see it in their kids eyes as they cling to dad's neck or hold his hand back to the car. some are in bad moods, maybe lacking their morning coffee; and they struggle with resistant two year old twins and leave the park carrying them by their wrists. some are jovial dads in flash gordon shirts who's laughter is contagious to his own two kids. some are quiet and reserved hanging on the edges of the playground. some talk on cellphones and others prepare snacks on the park bench while their children whack each other with sticks. 'they are just like me' i keep thinking. but they are so few. and i think that they must feel so alone in society. i have such respect for them.

i see so much here. so much in relationships. how some kids are crying into shoulders and some kids are being hushed. i see how the kids look at their dads. and i see the future of these kids who are being raised by their fathers. and through it all, i see the relationships and patience and irritation and comfort. i see how society has shaped them, how their own fathers shaped them into the men they became. and i see how the women in their life must see them too.

it's good to be in this different energy today.
to remember how it is in the world.