Community

Wow, I just noticed how precariously close to the end of his "2nd year caterpillar" the little replica of Jack is getting. Oh my. I really just can't believe that I will be planning a 2nd birthday party for my little tiny baby in a few more months. Little moments recently bring into perspective just how much he has grown and change. Not that we don't notice and revel in his new accomplishments and developments day by day, but-- this evening he plunked himself down in his bike trailer, and got all excited talking about bikes, and rides. First of all its pretty wild that he seems to remember what that bike trailer is for. But the real shock is how HUGE he looked sitting in there! He was just over a year the last time he used it. A tiny ten month old the first time.... I remember we thought he was a pretty substantial kid back then. Now I am glad I am not going to be the one pulling this behemoth up the hills!

But I digress. I wanted to tell you about the lovely evening Jack and I had tonight, and muse a bit on my conflicting feelings about our neighborhood.

Jack has been taking exceedingly long naps recently-- like, 3 and a half hours. Can't complain about that!! But it is changing the timeline of our evenings and somehow making me feel very relaxed with our evening time together. Today little man didn't wake up til 5 and by the time he nursed, got himself all sorted out, and read 3 books with me in the nursery, it was after 5:30. We puttered around in the yard (where we checked out the bike trailer) and he helped me write our shopping list for Zagara's, sitting carefully on his new favorite sitting spot-- sideways on the "big" step, the last stone step from the top as you walk up to the yard. (He says "big" everytime he walks up this step. It IS in fact the biggest of the steps. He loves it.) We headed out at 6:30 for our walk to the store at 6:30-- last month that was "getting ready for bed time!" Had a great shopping trip, took the long way to Coventry, and then we had the most delightful time at the Coventry playground. It was swarming with children there. Go figure, the first sunny day over 70 degrees in a week or so. Even though it was crowded, I decided to go ahead and bring Cor onto the playground proper as I followed Jack around, as I'd promised him he could play and it was a fantabulous day out. I shouldn't have worried because within moments we had the Corydon Fan Club following us around the playground. I think the dog had at least 3 children petting her at all times, and we had a little group of 5 regulars who just couldn't get enough of her. One little guy, who couldn't have been more than 4 or 5 years old, took a shine to Cor, and followed as close as he could whenever she and I moved to follow Jack. Eventually, he just decided to stick with Jack, and before long he had grabbed Jack's hand and led him up the steps and ramps to the top of the big slide. Jack was very happy to take his friend's hand and follow along. "Are you going to the big slide, Jack" "Yeah!!!" (said with a big smile). It was a little nerve wracking but my little independent guy navigated the playground just fine with his friend's help. ..

The sense of community at the playground was so wonderful. Little clumps of parents and friends and neighbors talking, a few dogs running around the green space. Groups of kids kicking a ball or playing chase in the grass. Swarms of children, all ages and races, tearing around the equipment, laughing and shouting, taking turns and climbing and holding hands. Smiling parents in tow. No one the least bit unhappy about my dog being there. I was just filled to the brim with good feelings about my neighborhood, feeling that this was the best possible place to raise an open-minded, trusting and confident child.

Then we got home and learned that Phil's car had it's window broken, most likely by some kids walking home from school on our street, sometime this afternoon. In broad daylight. Arg. There went those warm feelings. All of a sudden I wondered how I could think to raise a child in a neighborhood where windows ar being broken, where people litter on our sidewalks and random homeless people come up to our door with their stories of woe and requests for money. I think to myself that this is NOT why we are paying obscene amounts of property tax, to feel like we may as well be living in the inner city, that our neighborhood is unsafe, that we don't want our child to go to the same school as these kids who walk home down our street.

These kids who may well be the same ones I was enjoying so much at the park, for all I know.

I am feeling so torn about our house, this neighborhood. Not that we have the option to move, even if we wanted to. And I am not sure I would want to. It was fabulous to walk to the store and the park and the bank, to people watch on Coventry and to see our neighbors gathered at the playground, to come home to our cozy, if slightly run-down, big old house. If only we could move our house to the back of our lot, face out to Radnor and not Superior, turn our backs on the "through traffic", the litter and the young hooligans and pretend they're not there. Instead, though, I am stuck trying to reconcile my espoused respect for diversity, and my increasing understanding of why there are gated communities in the world.