The Misaligned Ill-mannered Perfect Swing

I had these two old swings given to me.

I hung them on our tree in the back yard.  Eden spent more time swinging then I knew possible.  Problem was I noticed the swing smallest and easiest for her to get on her own twists when she goes too high.

I’m not sure where I went wrong.  Either I didn't hang it, tie it or space the ropes correctly because it’s a wobbly ride.  Eden starts out fine, but after a few pushes, she’s twisting and twirling. 

This was a problem

I had done it wrong.

I am not the handiest person.  I had spent over an hour getting both swings up in those hard-to-reach branches and now, I concluded I needed to undo all my sophisticated Boy Scout knots and start over.

I procrastinated.

I was in denial.

Certainly a crocked swing could correct itself overtime?

Besides, I had already done the best I could do when one afternoon while pushing Eden on our demented and slightly-challenged rockabilly swing (and thinking for the 100^th time I need to take this swings down and start over), I noticed how much she loved it.

The higher I pushed, the more exciting the ride.

She was giggling as the unbalanced swing pushed her from side to side; unsure where the momentum would take her next.  It was anyone’s guess. It was better than a Disneyland ride.

I was so caught up in my error that I didn't see the real picture.  Eden loves her perfect dysfunctional swing.

I guess a swing’s fun no matter how you hang it and sometimes our best is good enough.

Happy Valentines Day and remember to love yourself, even with all your beautiful imperfections.

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