Environment

You know more about us now that we’re on my fifth column here at everyone’s favorite news site. Like how I’m a sucker for a historical throwback, my love language involves a fenced-in playground, Clara and Wyatt are officially willing to forgo swings for forests, and our approach to kiddo safety may be a bit dramatic. 

But before spotlighting our next outing, why not take this getting-to-know-us stage a step further? 

Don’t worry; I won’t make it weird. 

I will, however, let you in on a little secret.

One thing I’ve noticed about Washington is the reminder that not all parks are playgrounds. What may seem like a simple synonym snafu is actually quite the conundrum when these tiny humans of ours are steadfast on playing at the slide-and-swing variety.

I’m not sure why this life fact didn’t pop up for me in California, but I do know that legions of outdoor enthusiasts are now lining up behind their keyboards to say: “But, Tonya! Gig Harbor’s beautiful backdrop of beaches, trails, and trees is the only playground we’d ever need!”

I hear you. I do. Well, I almost do – because it’s pretty hard to concentrate with my children protesting from the backseat after our promised trip to “the park” turned up a legit forest instead.

Luckily, Clara and Wyatt have quickly adapted to Washington’s wild ways and have even come to regularly request that very same location: the densely wooded Harbor Family Park at 6620 32nd St. NW. Conveniently, it’s also the closest park to our house! And, you guessed it, it doesn’t have a swing in sight.