Gills Rock Park.

One of my favorite Gills Rock childhood memories is the little park down the road (technically, highway) from my Grandpa's house. It was close enough that when we were little kids, we could walk there, play for a couple of hours and then walk back (it was on those walks that I can remember the moms teaching us that if you are a pedestrian, you always walk AGAINST traffic. It is a lesson that I go over with Tim constantly. That's what happens when you get too used to sidewalks, I guess.)

I was so excited to take Ellie there, and on the 3rd, Becca and I were fancy free and so dragged Itty Bitty over to play. When we got there, I wondered if it was the same play equipment, and then I saw the rusty bolts and realized yup, it's the same 20 year old stuff. Still, Ellie loved it.

There is also a slightly newer, larger play structure in front of our old faithful spot. It had one really long, tube slide (see above.) That was the site of our only real melt down. I decided that I'd follow Ellie down the slide, having figured out that while I am plump, I am not SO fat as to get stuck in a tube (I had hesitated for a moment.) However, the tube is plastic and so I got static-shocked pretty hard on the way down and yelped, which made Ellie cry. Then at the bottom, the opening is not that big, and so my legs were hanging out, but I was unable to sit up and have my head clear, so I was sort of scooting my butt down and flailing my arms, while my legs dangled and Ellie tried to grab them, screaming. Park time, OVER!

Now that I'm a mom, I resisted the urge to go down the slide with her and let her get squished (as we used to do to John.) And though I pointed out the old school teeter tooters to Becca, I didn't make either she or Ellie sit on one end, get them up in the air and then drop them hard on their asses. Finally, I am the Kinder, Gentler Meg that my mom has always wanted.