Yesterday we put up a swing for Conan. It met with imedediate approval.
It's a big-kid swing, so for the moment little C needs help getting onto the seat and pushes to help him go. But I expect that with a little bit of practice he'll soon be able to get on by himself, and push with his feet.
He's already practicing jumping off of it, because he's such a little daredevil.
Swinging with Mama is pretty fun too, although it's a bit too close to the ground to feel very comfortable for anyone over 3 feet tall. My hope is that he'll soon become skilled enough with the swing that he can play on it by himself.
I remember the first swing my Dad put up for me in our yard. It was a board and a rope, and I loved it. I would pretend I could fly, and just swing for hours in the warm summer sun.
Update: After I wrote this, Conan and I went out to the swing. I pushed him until he was swinging higher than ever, laughing and shreiking with joy. Then he started saying "Moo! Moo!" I asked him if he was going to fly all the way up to the moon, and he replied with what may have been the most enthusiastic "Yes!" I've ever heard.