Monday, May 9, 2011

37 Seconds

I spent the better half of two hours putting up the trampoline yesterday. It’s the greatest thing since sliced bread.  I wouldn’t say blood, sweat, and tears. But it was a noble effort nonetheless.  But as of five minutes ago, it's not so great.

When the trampoline was first gifted to us it was nearly a gift of God. Practically a babysitter in itself, the kids were entertained for hours. Translation - housework completed without interference.  After a six month hiatus, it was time to break it out. When I finished at dusk all three made a bee line for it. They jumped right on and…well jumped. Like riding a bike. Which they can’t all do yet.

Anyway I was excited today for them to use it while I wrote my blog – making the most of that trampoline babysitter. But because the youngest has been flexing his defiance muscles in biblical proportions, I decided to time how long it would take for the first argument to take place. I fired up the laptop and as the title reveals: 37 seconds. A scream of bloody murder would have been less startling. And scream number two came at one minute flat. Experiment over. Even with warnings in place, this offense was oh “so sad” as we say in Love & Logic. But more sad for me than anyone else.

So any thoughts of a long summer of yardwork or lounging with a refreshing Diet Coke just came to an ugly halt. My dreams were dashed in 37 seconds. Next year he turns four which I’m told is much easier. But for now it looks like there will be a lot of independent jumping. Well, at least the springs will last longer.

How many of our best laid plans are foiled? “For I know the plans I have for you…” God tells us. But they don’t necessarily mean easy.  It's a tough lesson to swallow.

Speaking of newest thought for the house - replace the east facing wall with one of those clear glass garage doors that you can raise when it's warm.  Pardon me while I go fetch my sledge hammer.

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