I have spent the last two days following my best friend’s one-year old around to birthday parties for other toddlers.  It was complete madness. 

Besides the unending screams and tantrums, every child ended up with either food on their face, their clothes, in their underwear, or all of the above.  There were no complete sentences said by either adults or children as every single one was interrupted by something else.  This, I realized, is part of having children. 

The smells, the sounds, and the stories were enough to convince anyone to opt for permanent birth control.  Every party was a combination of three parties all intertwined:  the adult party, the kid party, and the interaction between parents and children that seemed to permeate every moment.  And every parent took part in caring for the other children.  At times I lost track of which child belonged to which parent. 

But, despite the infinite chaos, I’m still intrigued.

I’m easily entertained.  I forgot that children find fascination in the smallest things as well.  My inner two-year old emerged as I watched the world through the eyes of these tiny people.  Bouncing balls and colorful stars became magical toys with infinite possibilities.  Every face, every sound had new meaning and music took on a life of its own. 

Perhaps we, as adults, take too much for granted.  The magnificence of trees passes us by and the simple pleasures of a long walk fades into the mundane.   Maybe adults need grown-up playgrounds, too.  Not the hustle of bars or casinos, but actual giant playgrounds where we can once again revisit the beauty of innocence and the wonder of simplicity.