Trampoline Memories

I'm not particularly traditional, but I do like traditions. There's a set of 12 Days of Christmas drinking glasses, literally with my name on it, at my grandparents' house. In 1992, they wrote "Bequeathed to Lauren Spears," on the box, because I'm the one who most cherishes the moments around the dinner table on Christmas Eve when we all sing the song together. Let's be real, I'm the only one who will admit to cherishing it at all, but everyone's laughing as they're complaining about it every.single.year. 

In Of Mess and Moxie, Jen Hatmaker says, "Mamas, the traditions and experiences we provide during the Family Years are paving a road our kids can always return to, one that always points home. There is something about a recurring shared memory; the sum becomes greater than the parts." 

That really resonated with me. And as our Family Years with Angie are slipping away, we wanted to be sure to take advantage of what time we have left. So, we signed up for our third year of Family Camp, fully aware the place wasn't going to be baby-proofed per se, but still a little surprised at just how mischievous Paul could be.

Here's what Paul was supposed to be doing at the kid singalong times during camp worship 4 different times throughout the weekend.

Here's what he did instead. Approximately 7,854 times he attempted to climb the stairs onto the stage.

Can you see him looking back at me and grinning?

He was so cute about it that all these boys in the front rows became his cheering section. They learned his name the first night from his nametag, and had a running commentary of "Baby Paul's" activity the rest of camp. If he could write, he would have been signing autographs by day 2.

Needless to say, camp was not exactly the peaceful getaway we dreamed it might be, but we made memories.

It's hard to find fun that works for all our kiddos with the 12-year age gap. When we decided to buy a trampoline for them a couple Christmases ago, we hoped it would bridge the gap a bit. Silly of us I know, but I think we anticipated a lot more jumping. We fretted over the "1 person at a time" guidelines stated by the box, because we envisioned it as a place for family fun, but we had no idea what we were in store for. 

Very little actual jumping or acrobatics are done on the trampoline, which should be keeping our insurance premiums down. Instead, it makes for a perfect shade cover for Ruby and the boys as they tear up the yard below in their makeshift "sandbox."

But, hands down, our favorite times with the trampoline so far, are trampoline picnics. Friday evenings this spring/summer, when no one is obligated elsewhere, you'll find us grabbing some carryout and taking it out back. 

The trampoline provides such a fun, peaceful, easy environment, that we've talked about moving all our meals out there, but spaghetti, soup, actually most any food, would not cooperate on our bouncy laps. So, if you try this at home, we recommend KFC tenders, biscuits, and tater wedges. No one said trampoline picnics were healthy, but what they lack in physical nourishment they make up for in mental and emotional family healing. 

What's so different about a trampoline picnic than a regular picnic, you might ask. Well, bugs. We have virtually no problems with bugs crawling or flying near us since we're off the ground and surrounded by a net. 

Second, movement. Something about being confined to a chair, makes our boys basically lose their appetites. And children climbing all over me during mealtimes, makes me basically lose my mind. So, to keep both their hunger and my sanity, the children grab a bite, then take a lap, do a handstand, have a tickle fight, start a game of dodgeball, or tackle someone... The options are as limitless as the sky we're eating under.

 

  

Even Ruby kind of gets in on the fun.

But these are just the logistics.

What really makes this family night into a nearly guaranteed success is the togetherness. This space is almost sacred. The clean-up, homework, housework, and schedules can't be heard calling to us this far from the house. Phones and distractions are minimized, physical touch and laughter are at an all time high. The trampoline is the closest thing to completely Baby-Paul-proofed that we have found, and it's so sweet to enjoy each other without the word "No" tainting our conversation regularly.

I'm not sure how long these encapsulated meals will last, as Angie's independence and freedom threaten to lead her in many different directions. But the de-stressing moments of pure joy that we've already shared are enough for me to recommend you go buy a trampoline, or create a tradition perfect for your own tribe.  I'm so grateful we've found ours.