Kiddos 2014

Kiddos 2014

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Hand Me Downs

In the past month I have hit the jack pot in the area of hand me down clothes for my kids. The first wind fall came when I traveled south for my nephew's confirmation. On the way we stopped at my step-brother's house in Noblesville, Indiana where he lives with his wife and two boys, ages 12 and 7. It started innocently enough.

"Do you have any old Tball or soccer shoes that Seth has outgrown?" Both of my boys are in Tball this summer and shoes are ridiculously expensive. I mean, who in their right mind is going to pay $30 for a pair of shoes that will be outgrown by the end of summer? I'll answer that, not me. They can play in their normal tennis shoes, but of course, I want them to look the part of the Tball player too! So, I'd been scouring garage sales and kid consignment shops with no luck.

Well, Suzette looked thoughtful. "Yeah, in fact, I think I've got some regular shoes and come to think of it, I have a tub marked 'Amy' in the garage with a bunch of clothes for the boys. Do you have room in the van?"

Do I ever. I mean, I would probably buy a topper just to get those clothes home with me if I had to. I love these hand me downs. Gap, Old Navy, Gymboree, Adidas, brand name everything, in every color, in great shape including about a bazillion jammies. Just in time for me to NOT have to buy any summer clothes or fall clothes for that matter for Gabe. And then Ben's turn will come with the clothes next.

I love hand me downs! And not just because it saves me money, if I didn't get them for free, I'd go to garage sales or second hand shops anyway for the kids. It's the ultimate recycling really. And what a waste to go buy brand new clothes when perfectly good second hand clothes work just as well.

Now, I'm not averse to new clothing. There are some things that you almost have to buy new, especially for boys. They're getting to the age where most jeans size 6 and up that are hand me downs will have holes or near holes in them. So, new makes sense in that. Also, tennis shoes are sometimes so worn, that you'll have to buy new. With girls it's a whole different story.

When Ben was born, I hardly had to buy anything new. It was great! Plus, I got to relive Baby Gabe when Baby Ben wore his big brother's clothes. And boys, well boys are easy. Your choices for clothes are short sleeve or long sleeve, pants or shorts, tennis shoes or church shoes, along with the occasional dressy outfit.

When Lyndee was born, oh man was I in trouble. It was overwhelming. And that's an understatement. There are far too many choices when it comes to the wardrobe of a girl. You have pants, shorts, skirt, skort, capris, or dresses. Then short sleeve, long sleeve, tshirt, dressy shirt, cutesy shirt, sweater, sweatshirt, zip up, over the head, hood or no hood, on and on and on. That doesn't even begin to cover shoes - sandals, tennis shoes, church shoes in three colors, loafers, mary janes, crocs, boots, wow is all I can say.

So yes, hand me downs make sense. A week ago I talked to a teacher friend of mine who had a baby when her two other children were 9 and 12. Well, needless to say, even if the older daughter's clothes were still around (which they weren't) what was cute in the 90's was not so cute in the thousands if you know what I mean. So, new clothes it was. Thankfully, I am the HMD (hand me down) beneficiary of this! I was thrilled, more than thrilled when she stopped by last week with a huge bag of summer clothes and fall clothes for Lyndee. "Do you need shoes?" she said.

"Well, need is a relative term," I said, "but YES! We love shoes!" Later that night I sat on the couch and practically in tears I said, "Matt, do you see this, do you see all these great clothes?"

"What?" he said. "Yeah, clothes, sure, great," and went back to the NBA playoffs.

My spirits and gratitude not dampened at all by his seemingly inappropriate response, I called my mom and explained the situation. "Oh honey, that's great! I can't wait to see them. Won't our little girl look adorable?" Sigh, at last someone who understands my unadulterated joy at such a gift. I went to bed all smiles that night.

As the third of three girls, you might think that I would abhor hand me downs. After all, I was the recipient of many, many of these items. And not only third hand, but often 4th or 5th hand. My older cousin had scoliosis and wore a brace for many years, but her family bought her the coveted brand name shirts that ours could not afford. So when these shirts came our way, we wore them proudly, holes from the brace and all. I remember in particular one dress that my sisters both wore, it was green with some sort of red fruit all over it. Hideous, I know. I would sneak down to their closet and secretly drool over that dress. I couldn't wait till it was mine. Finally, they just said, "Amy, take it. We're not going to wear it anyway." I think I wore it the next day to school even though it was too big.

I often think that hand me downs can be symbolic for other things in our life too. I know that I am handing attitudes, values, and morals down to my kids every day. I appreciate most of these that my parents handed down to me, too. I just hope that someday, like the clothing, my kids can appreciate the things that aren't really things that I've tried to hand down to them as well. And relating to clothes, why would we want our kids to have to invent or think up brand new attitudes, values and morals when we can show them our "used" ones that hopefully can lead them down the right paths. We just have to be careful that we "hand me down" the good stuff in that area, and not the poorly used, trendy or ill advised stuff that sometimes sneaks in our baggage. With my lucky hand me down track record, I think we'll be okay.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

Things I Know About Myself

As we grow older, I think we become a little bit more introspective and always are trying to "know" ourselves. Some of it is mumbo jumbo from the women's self help section at Barnes and Noble and some of it is probably true. Did you ever notice that the women's self help section is much larger than the men's? Men and introspective isn't something that usually go together. But, I digress. Here are some random things in my life that you may or may not know.

I drink too much diet coke.
I love junk food, and fast food, and sweets, and salty things and I think chocolate should be its own food group.
I wish I was better at playing with my kids.
I am so thankful that I have a daughter.
I am also thankful that I have two sons, but my daughter feels like she will always be a part of me, while I know my sons will belong to someone else.
I am really bad at remembering birthdays, even with my facebook birthday reminders and my card organizer with cards already addressed and stamped.
I yell at my children when I am frustrated.In fact, I've yelled more at my children in the last two years than I yelled at my students over 13 years of teaching.
I've spanked my two boys but never my daughter.
The Christmas or birthday presents I have to mail are always late.
I stay up too late but wish I could be a morning person. I know I would get so much more done.
I miss being a competitive athlete.
I think I'm good at the motivational, mental part of coaching basketball, but often feel lacking in the nuts and bolts of the game. I'd probably be better if I was willing to devote more time to it. But, family and self-preservation come first.
Most people would never know that I often feel insecure.
I love words of affirmation from anyone.
I worry about my house being not clean or organized enough to please others in my life.
I can't go to bed with dirty dishes in the sink.
The vacuum is my friend. So is the dishwasher.
I love to write, it makes me feel smart. I wish I was disciplined enough to do it every day.
I don't read as often as I should.
I hate conflict and can't stand negative energy around me.
I wish I was smarter about politics and world, heck, even local issues, but again, not motivated enough to become more informed.
I often wonder if I had cancer or was faced with something life threatening, would I be the fighter, or the one who throws in the towel.
I am not an activist for anything.
I don't like to cook and am not creative in that sense at all.
I think I am a good daughter, wife,and friend and often put others needs above my own.
I am a loyal and true friend.
I will tell you if I think you are wrong about something.
My kids will always know how very much I love them.
I am amazed at the individuality of my children and hope to foster confidence in them that I lack.
I am intuitive about other people's emotions and can often see both sides of difficulties in relationships.
I think that I am wise in some areas of my life, and horribly lacking in others.
I have learned more about myself in the last two years of my life, than all 36 years before put together.

So, self help book this is not, but I feel better! And now, even though it's 10:30, I think I'll crack a diet coke, eat some chocolate chip cookies, and watch some horrible reality show.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Baggage

Now, the title of this entry may be a bit misleading. Most of the time today when one talks about baggage, one means the emotional things we carry with us that might hinder our days, nights and decision making in general. Today, I mean real baggage. And by that I mean purses.

My collection, if you could call it that, was started in 1981 with a strawberry shaped coin purse. It has grown a bit in recent years but is still fairly tame. I think I own right now a black back pack purse (which I used in addition to a diaper bag as a new mom), an across the body brown messenger type bag (my cool new mom purse), a tiny hot pink number (my I'm going out with my husband alone purse), a lime green sassy one (trying to not look like a mom purse), a lime green all purpose tote (summer mom purse), a red sophisticated bag (my okay I admit I'm a mom, but a good lookin' one purse), a shiny black (we're going to a wedding) purse, my most recent purchase - a silver ladies night purse and my every day leopard print bag.

I can't really call the last one even a purse because I didn't even get it in the purse section. I think it was in the luggage section of TJ Maxx. It's not really THAT big, but big enough to hold all of the mom essentials. What are the mom essentials you ask? Well....let's check it out.

There is not one thing in my purse that does not serve a purpose. What may seem like non essential junk to someone else, could be life saving material for me.

My wallet: no real money, just some plastic, receipts, id cards, check book, change, and a couple of pictures.

A small green card holder: It is the gift card/store credit keeper. This is perhaps my favorite item in my purse because it holds shopping potential without economic consequences if you know what I mean. I have a gift certificate to the toy zone from 2004, not sure if they'd ever honor it but one of these days I might try. A free rootbeer float from A and W. Gift cards in various denominations for Great Harvest, Java Detour (and I'm not a coffee drinker), Younkers/Herbergers, Old Navy, Victoria Secret, and GGP (whatever that is). I have store credit at TJ Maxx, Sam's Club and Children's Place and a $10 reward for Gap.

A second small green card holder: This is my "club cards" and coupon store house. Everyone who knows me knows I love a bargain more than anything so sign me up, I'll be in your club even if it only saves me a buck a year. I have member cards from the theatre, Hardware Hank, Build a Bear, Dunn Bros. Coffee (again not a coffee drinker) just to name a few.

My camera: this is essential because you never know when your children might have an historic moment. It could be the first potty and you might be at Target. I'm telling you, you never know when moments like that will occur.

My leopard print diaper/wipes holder: I'm not sure that this really needs an explanation. My mom made this for me and it was very freeing! It meant that I didn't have to carry a diaper bag anymore! I could just transer this from purse to purse. Let it be said that hopefully the diaper part of it will be retired soon and it will just be the wipes holder. Wipes are an entity in an of themselves when you are a mom. I think I'll still carry them when my kids are in college. Like I said, you never know!

My phone: This really doesn't need an explanation either. I do know that some of my family and friends get annoyed when they can't get a hold of me. I have my phone, but often it might be on silent or vibrate and I just don't hear it, honest.

Ibuprofen: Almost my number one mom essential. Many things give me head aches, not the least of which is the volume my children create when stuffed in the minivan together running errands that they don't want to run. Running errands is one of my favorite things, really, so I'm trying to pass that love on to my kids. A little twisted...I know.

My coupon folder: I am up for a deal at any time, so I always shop with coupons. If I see and and I know I have a coupon at home, I refuse to buy it and I will come back later. I mean, come on....it's free money!!!!

Many miscellaneous items float around in my purse. These include but are not limited to: a baggie of crayons, match box cars, an iron man or hello kitty notebook, dum dum suckers, smarties, bandaids, stickers, many rubber insects, hand sanitizer, chap stick, lip gloss, pony tail holders, bobby pins, and a few unmentionables.

I used to wonder why my mom had to carry such a large purse while I ran around with one as big as my 8 year old hand that held my strawberry shaped coin purse. Now, I get it....the mom essentials ruled even in 1981.

Monday, February 9, 2009

Sleep Stealers

Do you remember sleeping in? Really? Do you?

I do, and I long for it at least once a week. You see, I am a sleeper. I used to sleep until 11:00 on the weekends! And when we got married, we'd go out on Friday and Saturday nights and sleep in that late together. Sometimes we'd get up, eat breakfast, and go back to bed until early afternoon. What a life.

Then I got pregnant. I still got to sleep in, but it was interrupted by the nightly trips to the bathroom. I think that slightly prepares you for having to get up in the middle of the night with your newborn. I said slightly. You think you're prepared. And then it happens. The baby is born.

The first night in the hospital is okay. It doesn't matter that you didn't get much sleep. You're still overjoyed at the birth of your baby! And it also depends on the hospital nursery staff. If your baby is born during the week, the overnight nurses are great. They try to find other ways to comfort your baby if he/she is crying only 30 minutes after you just nursed him. If your baby is born on a weekend, you may as well have the baby room in with you. Because, in my experience, the weekend nurses just bring he or she back again and say, "Your baby's hungry!" in that sing song voice you really don't want to hear at 2 am, and again at 3 am and 4 am......yawn.

You bring your baby home and settle into the routine of being constantly sleep deprived. When we brought our first son home, we put him in his crib from the get go, settled down to sleep at about midnight and turned on the monitor. And we both laid staring at the ceiling listening to the monitor. After about twenty minutes my husband said, "Amy, this is ridiculous. He's right next door, two steps from your side of the bed. Turn off the monitor."

I gasped, "No! What if he needs me and I don't hear him?"
"Trust me, you'll hear him. We'll BOTH hear him."

And so I turned if off. And went to sleep. Matt was right. I did hear him. Matt was wrong. We did not BOTH hear him. He slept like a log, while I was a wreck. Up, down. Up, down. Nursing, rocking, nursing, rocking, with a little bit of sleeping in between. I finally gave up and got up around 8. Matt rolls over, yawns, stretches, and says, "Well that wasn't so bad, he had a pretty good night, huh?"

Daggers shot out of my bleary eyes as I held out the baby to him. He got up, took the baby without a word and left the bedroom. Wearily, I rolled over, pulled the blankets over my head and finally slept.

In all honesty, there is no way you can prepare for life with a newborn, or even an older baby who just doesn't sleep through the night. You just live with it and through it and come out on the other side ready to do it again with number two and three child. I think it's better with numbers two and three children because you know what to expect. You know you won't sleep and you know your husband will.

I've had friends who have said, "If I'm going to nurse that baby, then he is darn well going to get the baby and bring it to me. I'm not going to be the only one doing the work." Or friends who pumped so they could sleep and their husband could take some of the feeding shifts. But I didn't do that. Maybe it's my wanting to be in control but I also knew that he had to get up and go to work and I didn't. Plus, for all of the years that I've known and loved my husband, he does not function well without sleep. He needs a solid 8-9 hours a day, where I can function very well on say, 6-7 hours of sleep. The other advice I've never followed is "Sleep when your baby sleeps." To me that was just wasted ME time. I got a lot done during nap times, even if it was just an hour of watching tv and reading people magazine with some cheetos. Somedays,that was my sanity saver.

Now that my kids are older, I get more sleep than I used to get. There are still nights when I don't sleep well. Those nights are when the sleep stealers come. I have a few sleep stealers that hurt my 6-7 hours a night. Their names are Gabe, Ben and Lyndee. And also, caffeine, adrenaline and worry. Let's start with the kids.

We finally got a king sized bed. Now, my husband and I are not small people. I'm 5-10 and he's 6-5. We could have survived with a queen, but when a little person almost always ends up in bed with us, a king became darn near a necessity. The boys have two ways they steal sleep from us. The first way has to do with what and how much liquid they consume before bed if you know what I mean. Even with the night light in the bathroom, they seem to need our help in the middle of the night. And when I say "our" help, I mean "my" help. My side of the bed is closest to the door, so I'm the lucky parent. We even tried switching sides of the bed but neither of us could sleep on the "wrong" side of the bed! The boys also steal sleep from us when they tap me on the arm and crawl up in between us. Most nights it's fine, but other nights the child wants to sleep perpendicular to us or not under the covers when we want to be under the covers. Sigh...

Lyndee doesn't steal sleep too often. Mostly when she's teething or has an ear ache. But then she cries and whimpers and it necessitates me getting up to snuggle and cuddle her. She doesn't like to sleep with us yet and won't sleep unless she's in her crib. Once she was laying between us and her breathing was very even. It was completely dark in the room and I thought she was asleep. I whispered, more to myself than her, Ready for night night?" There was a pause then a tiny whisper back out of the darkness, "No." So we cuddled a little longer till another whisper came out of the darkness. "Night night Mama."

Other things that steal my sleep are my addiction to diet coke. Although I've been better with that lately, not drinking it after about 7 pm. And adrenaline. By that I mean after coaching a BB game, I come home so wound up that I cannot go to bed even if it's late. I just have to unwind a little with some good reality tv before going to bed. Otherwise I just lay there, replaying the game over and over. Finally, worry is a big sleep stealer. I worry about everything....my kids, my team, my job or what's happening next year, my kids going to school/not going to school, my family members, etc.

Most of the time when I can't sleep I go over the blessings of my life and soon I'm sleeping. If that doesn't work, nyquil is my next best option.

Date Night

Oooooohhhhh, a date, I can't wait! Well, date night just isn't what it used to be. But, that doesn't mean it's bad, just different.

One recent Sunday night I asked my husband if he wanted to go on a date with me where we wouldn't have to pay for a babysitter. He said sure. So, I told him that we needed some groceries and HyVee Barlow has free babysitting in a great kids' play area. You can leave the kids for TWO HOURS while you shop. Maybe they should attach a movie theatre to that grocery store. I wouldn't care if all they showed was previews for an hour, it would still be great!

He was a good sport and it was actually really fun! We dropped the kids off at the play area and headed to the cafe area to write the list. Now I probably should have done this before but I wanted my hubby to be involved in the process of groceries. Soon, I realized, he didn't care what we ate, just as long as he didn't have to make it or think about it. The list was quickly finished, we continued on our way.

Very shortly into our grocery aisle date, I realized that it would have been cheaper to get a babysitter, go to dinner and a movie, than it was going to be to take my husband grocery shopping. After being home with the kids for two years and carefully shopping and price comparing EVERYTHING, I've become very adept at knowing what we can and cannot afford. Hostess anything is never on my list. And everyone knows you don't ever buy gum at the grocery store. And we don't yet need a pack of gumballs for when Lyndee starts potty training. Or the mega jumbo size of coffee that we might drink someday. Or the expensive napkins because they look nice. Or whole milk, fancy yogurt, vitamin supplements, candy, the list goes on and on. I think that if I had left him at home, I would have saved about $50.

The great thing about going with him (other than getting to hold his hand and having him try a little flirting in the frozen foods) was that he can actually see how much we spend on food. He can appreciate how much thought goes into menu planning for breakfast, lunch and supper. He understands how it can be tedious for me and hasn't complained about any food I've made since that trip. And there were other benefits...adult conversation (even if it was about turkey vs. beef hotdogs), not saying "kids are you with me? Keep up, we have to keep moving," the kiss in the baby aisle even though it makes him want to have another one, and the pause at Starbucks when he said, "yeah, I guess we don't actually NEED that."

And I feel confident that I can send him to the grocery store for me. In fact, I knew my training had succeeded earlier this year when I sent him to the store and everything he came home with was on the list.....and it was generic. Good job honey!

So, date night isn't what it used to be. But having my man shop with me without my kids around? Well, for me, it was kind of like romantic foreplay...I'll take grocery store date night anytime. And from now on, so will he!

Saturday, December 6, 2008

The Evolution of a Mother

You can spot her a mile away...a new mother. Some call it a glow but mostly I think it's a glaze. Not to be cynical at all about motherhood. It's an amazing thing that's happened to me three times over. But there are distinctive things about every stage.

When you are pregnant, it's kind of like waiting for Christmas morning when you were a kid. It is so exciting and you have all these ideas about what it will be like for you, and then when it happens it's just like you thought it would be...wonderful, exhilarating, exciting, but also really, really tiring. And anxiety producing and second guessing yourself constantly about everything you're doing and did I mention tiring? You emerge from the first phase of motherhood when #1 is about 3 weeks old. Then you wake up after a few hour stretch and think, "I might be getting the hang of this. I feel a little like my old self. I might even take a shower today! And put on make up and dry my hair!"

And then your baby starts teething........

There are challenges to every stage of motherhood that's for sure. And sometimes I think you can equate it swimming, or drowning as it may sometimes feel. You may be cruising along just fine, and then something new or unexpected will happen with jr. and you feel dragged under again. Then you come to the surface, cruise along, and get dragged under again and again. And then finally #1 gets to be about 1. 5 or 2 and your cruising altitude remains steady for longer periods of time.

And then you get pregnant again.....

Baby #2 comes along. I remember saying to one of my friends when I was pregnant, "Okay, I may regret saying this, but I think I'm pretty good at this motherhood thing. Gabe's doing okay, I've got the hang of the eating and sleeping thing. Yeah, sometimes discipline is hard, but we're working on it. When baby #2 is born, how can it be that much harder? I mean, all they do at first any way is eat and sleep right?"

Wow. I mean it. Wow. Ben was born just weeks before Gabe turned two. And he was a relatively easy baby. And Gabe was NOT a relatively easy two year old. We called him Jekyll and Hyde. And really, no one can prepare you for how it is to have TWO (three counting your husband) people who need you in this world. And not just need you to feel good, but need you to SURVIVE. That's a heavy burden at times.

With me, wherever I went, baby just came with me. It was easier for me that way. I was nursing so I didn't want a call 20 min. after I left begging me to come home because the baby was crying. So, baby just came with me. EVERYWHERE. And that meant I was never alone. Well, with baby number 2, baby and toddler came with me. EVERYWHERE. And that meant I was really never alone. I swear, it felt like I was tethered. Not tied down, but tethered, because we didn't stay home. I haven't stayed home since I was 8. We just went everywhere together and all of a sudden I had two extra appendages named Gabe and Ben.

So baby #2 is born and you begin the cycle again. Three weeks and "Hey, I might be okay with all this." You cruise, you get dragged under. You cruise, you get dragged under. And so on and so forth.

We decided we should wait until baby #2 was three before having a third. And, well....we hadn't even reached a good cruising altitude before I took a good look at my calendar and said, "Oh my word. Really? Has it been 42 days? No!?" Well.....yep. Ben was 18 months old when baby #3 came along. Crazy how life throws you some curve balls. This was an awesome curve ball though and one I would never take back or regret. Lyndee Elizabeth's birth was, bar none, the happiest day of my life. I mean, a girl? An accidental girl? Yee Haw!

That doesn't mean that it wasn't overwhelming and still can be most of the time. It just means it's been another foray into the cycle of motherhood. We cruise, we get dragged under, we cruise, we get dragged under. You know the drill.

I think, now that Lyndee is almost 2, that we cruise most of the time. It's kind of like when you were a kid swimming under water to see if you could make it from one side of the pool to the other with one breath. You fill your lungs with air for the journey, you feel strong, you falter, your lungs start to burn, and just when you think you can't go any farther, you touch the side and burst to the surface. I feel that way now, not treading water or cruising any more, but finally breaking the surface. I can eat what I want, drink what I want, go to bed late if I want, get out of bed and give the kids cereal and go lay back down if I want, speak and be understood most of the time. Two of my three go to the bathroom alone, brush their teeth alone, eat by themselves, walk by themselves, use a pencil, drink out of big kid cups, and have meaningful conversation.

I see the mothers at preschool drop off time three days a week and I can pretty much pick out which stage they are in. There are those in their sweats, flip flops in the snow, t-shirts and an open coat, hair in a pony tail, glasses on, carrying the baby bucket and holding the hand of at least one toddler and/or preschooler. Yep, they think they're cruising because they got dressed today and are only a few minutes late. They don't know, and won't until later, that their cruising level is survival level, just below the surface.

There are also the mothers who look a little more well rested. They are dressed in matching clothes, and it may be something that's not just a t-shirt. No spit up stains or flip flops. The contacts made it in the eyes this morning and they are right on time. No baby bucket, just a baby on the hip and holding the hand of a preschooler. These fine women are cruising just above the surface.

And then there is where I almost am...make up, hair done, dressed well - some in work clothes, some not. They arrive early (sorry, that's not me yet) easily chatting with the teachers they've known for years since #1 came to school here. Their cars/vans are clean, their shoes are appropriate, they probably have just one or two preschoolers they are responsible for getting to the proper place. These women, yes, it is possible, have completely broken the surface and gotten out of the pool. They watch from the sides and cheer the rest of us on because they have been there. They know what it's like to look glazed and not quite be at your best. They are there to tell you that you are a good mom even though you often don't feel like it. They will be there to lend you a hand to help you out of the pool when it is time. And like you, they know that they have changed irrevocably since they first entered the water, and that they would do it again. Definitely, for sure, absolutely. Just not right now.

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Things the playground teaches

Most of the time when my kids are playing outside, I am inside doing the things that need to get done to keep our house running smoothly - laundry, dishes, cleaning, bills, etc. Super exciting tasks, I know. Sometimes I think that I'm just not very good at playing with them. The truth is, it makes me feel inept, out of my league, unimaginative....bored. Until tonight, when my kids and husband taught me a few important lessons.

We went to the club tonight because it's our last night. You see, we decided that it wasn't financially worth it for us to keep our membership for the few odd days that we would go and work out or play with the kids. It's truly an amazing place for kids to play. The upstairs is for preschoolers, lots of climbing things, driving things, moving things, you wish for it, it's there. The downstairs of the portion of the club called The Neighborhood is also amazing. There is trampoline basketball, an 18 hole mini golf course, giant chess, dance revolution, batting cages, golfing cages, a bb court, hopscotch, it goes on and on.

We started out tonight with Lyndee and me staying in the preschool area and Gabe, Ben and Matt in The Neighborhood. Lyndee just ran and ran and ran and ran. The first thing playing with your kids teaches you is RUN. Run because you can, not because you have to. Run with your arms up in the air, hair flying, mouth open, smiling and screaming. And if you fall, laugh and get up and run again only faster! She was so joyful and unrestrained and yes, when we left to find the boys, sweaty. But alas, there is joy in being sweaty!

Then I watched the boys climb in the big climbing thing. There's really no other way to describe it. It has slides, ladders, ropes, floors made of nylon straps, anything you can think of all put together with passageways and different levels. There are two rules - no shoes, and no climbing up the slide. That's it. I looked around for age restrictions or weight restrictions and found none. So, while Lyndee and Ben and Matt went to find something else to do, I climbed up with Gabe.

As adults, I know especially for myself that fear restricts my fun! I'm afraid of failing, looking stupid, spending money, not spending money and getting hurt. All of these fears limit what I will try or do. So, I decided if my 5, 3, and 20 month old could conquer this big climbing thing, so could I. Trying to get to where Gabe was proved a little difficult. There was one of two ways to go, up a ladder type thing, or up a passageway. Well, I took the passageway - code I know now for the LONG way. And not THE EASY WAY. I haven't had my body twisted in so many ways since... well, since I don't know when! And never have I tried to go through smaller spaces! All the time I heard Gabe saying, "You can do it Mommy! I'm right here, you're almost there!" And then, there he was! I made it. And yes, I was sweaty. But, strangely jubilant at the same time. And, still a little afraid. You see, I still had to get down! I looked around. Well, I could go back the same way I came, or I could try to use the alternate route. The alternate route involved an extremely small passageway to another level, an obstacle route and a slide.
"Which way Gabe?"
"I wanna do the slide," he said. I groaned inwardly.
"I don't know if I can fit through there, G."
"Aww, come on Mommy. You never know until you try." My own words spoken back to me. So I decided to go feet first. Wrong. I twisted, I turned, I got stuck, and finally without any grace, I fell onto the next platform. "Mommy, it's much easier to go head first."

What an analogy. How often do kids dive into things head first, no fear of consequences or what will come next? And how often do adults? I, for one, as already noted, prefer the feet first method. But you know what? I'm not so sure that's the right way anymore!

And the obstacle course and the slide were fun! In fact, I braved the small passageway again (this time head first and it was much easier) and slid down the slide again! So Gabe taught me FEAR NOTHING and GO HEAD FIRST.

I caught up with Ben and Lyndee in the jumping trampoline. "I jumping!" Lyndee screamed. Again, pigtails flying, screaming, and sweaty. What an adorable picture. So, I tried it. I jumped, and it was FUN! I haven't jumped in years and although it didn't last long, it reminded me that I should jump more often. Only next time, go to the bathroom first!

Finally, we all went back up to the preschool play area. And we RAN, and we JUMPED and we weren't afraid, and we went HEAD FIRST. And we also played hide and seek. There's not many places for my 6'5 husband to hide in a preschool play area. But, he did it and joyfully. And the smiles and shrieks from the kids made us supremely happy to have had the evening with them. So, the next time you play, lose the fear, go head first, run with joy, jump and scream, and get sweaty. There's good in all of that!