Might as well jump, JUMP!

First things first - pictures for Nana (as requested):

Cowboy Delaney - Garrett and Laura enjoy the time honored tradition of dressing up the youngest sibling:

Laura at her first gymnastics meet, on the bars:

Future Museum Curator, Garrett - he likes to put together various displays for our viewing pleasure:

Now, on with the blogging.

So in my efforts to keep three young children entertained during this first loooooong week without summer school, I made a spur-of-the-moment decision yesterday morning to take them to Jump Mania.

It really wasn't a hard decision - on one hand we have Jump Mania: Giant inflatable bouncy houses, air conditioning, snack-bar, closed-caption television...and on the other hand we have The Trashed House We Call Home: Uncleaned from a weekend of slacking, piles of laundry, backed-up email, and a kitchen sink in mid-repair (thanks to a husband and his testosterone fueled UTTER REFUSAL to Call! A! Plumber!).

On the entire half hour ride to town, including a stop for cash and a well-deserved fancy coffee drink, I made approximately six threats to turn around and go home, eight threats to spank bottoms, and one threat to Garrett to sit at a table at Jump Mania while the rest of us played. When I tired of making empty threats, I gave up and cranked up "Beat It" (may my childhood rest in peace).

Upon arrival, we were tagged with matching bracelets to prevent child-theft (although I do not know who would be crazy enough to steal them), and Garrett and Laura disappeared into the Bouncy goodness (while I attempted to forget the abundance of toddler-pee and tropical-virus-germs that surely infested it all). Delaney took a bit more time to warm up, but after a few rides down the giant slide on my lap and some coaxing in the Baby Bouncy section, she was all for it and laughing her hysterical baby laugh / squeal.

Fun was had by all - though let me note a few things for you in case you have one of these Bouncy jungles in your neighborhood:

1. Please follow my advice and HEED THE WARNINGS posted on each bouncy house. If it says something like "Rigorous course! Not for children under the age of 5!", you should interpret that as "Rigorous course! Not for out-of-shape women who have borne three children and lose their breath walking up a flight of stairs!" (However, please note: Thank GOD, my ego would not let my fat ass fall on the small children waiting not-so-patiently behind / under me...I ROCKED that inflatable rock-wall if I do say so myself. But also? Who the fuck thought an INFLATABLE rock-wall was EVER a good idea?)

2. The big, open jumpy bouncers look as tempting to a 33 year old as they do to 3 year olds. Go ahead, I say! Jump! Jump to your heart's content! Attempt those old cheerleader jumps if you must (Herkie, anyone?) - no one can really see you in there, anyway - right? RIGHT? BUT BE WARNED - if you have birthed even one child, BRING ON THE POISE PADS. Because coughing, sneezing, and laughing are NOT the only things that will make you wet your pants...bouncing does it too. And quite efficiently and WITHOUT WARNING, so help me God.

So other than having to drive home with a paper towel stuffed in my underwear, I'd say my mission of Summer Vacation Entertainment: Day One, went just fine.