Swing Set

 

Sometimes when we’re bad, my mother goes downstairs and silently exits through the back door. We press our noses against the bathroom window upstairs, the one that looks out on the backyard, watching her. We turn to each other and say, “She must be so mad!” Then we watch, cannot help but watch, as she goes over to the swing set and sits on the black rubber seat. 

Her legs never leave the ground, she just pushes herself back and forth, straightening and bending those hourglass legs. And then, maybe it is condensation on the window or maybe something else, but we think we can see tears rolling down her cheeks. When she buries her head in the crook of her arm, it is over. Lisa Van Orman Hadley 

The author went on to say her mother was punishing herself after she'd punished her children. To me, it feels like this mother of six children was seeking solace and pulling herself together so she could go back and mother her children.