I'm starting to wonder if I'm a tad bit overprotective . . .

Last night, I took Gavin and Kaleb on our first adventure together.  By adventure, I mean that I drove them to the ice cream stand, went for a short walk, and let Gavin play at the park for about 45 minutes while Kaleb snoozed in the stroller.  The ice cream part was uneventful - other than the fact that Gavin ordered what he wanted (Superman ice cream on a waffle cone) and then promptly ate more than half of my ice cream (chocolate and vanilla soft serve).

After we finished our treats, we strolled over to the park.  When we got there, we encountered a younger couple with their two kids - one boy who was around Gavin's age and another boy who was about 8 months old.  I can only think of two words to adequately describe the older boy, whose name was Sage: Spider. Monkey.

This kid was everywhere.  He was barefoot and dirty (as little boys should be), legs covered in scraps and bruises, skinny and sun-tanned, and climbing all over everything.  He was jumping off of the swing mid-air while his dad was pushing him, he was recklessly climbing all kinds of things that he should be, and I almost had half-a-dozen heart attacks just watching him.  I was certain that an ambulance would have to be called at some point, but luckily that didn't happen. 

In contrast, Gavin (who does have his fair share of scrapes and bruises) was overly concerned about getting sand in his shoes (until I threatened to chop off his feet).  When Spider Monkey Boy came racing over and pushed Gavin out of the way so he could get to the top of the slide first, Gavin simply walked away.  The two, however, did become fast friends and chased each other around for quite some time. 

Gavin and Spider Monkey Boy

In the meantime, the 8-month-old (Nolan) was crawling around in the sand while his parents, who were snuggled up on the grass, watched from afar.  Now, by sand, I mean dirt.  Mixed with a little gravel.  Every time he picked some up, I cringed, waiting for him to put the dirt in his mouth.  He crawled wherever he pleased, and on multiple occasions parked his diapered butt at the bottom of the slide while other kids came flying down unaware that he was there.

As I watched all of this go on, I probably said, "Gavin, be careful," more than a dozen times.  Be careful running in your sandals, you might trip.  Be careful because there's a baby at the bottom of the slide.  Be careful hanging upside down on that piece of playground equipment that I'm certain has a name I just don't know what it is.  Be careful standing on top of that very tall slide.  And on, and on, and on.

So, maybe I need to chill out a little.  But, I'll be damned if I would let my baby crawl around in dirt.