As I write this, the adrenaline is still coursing through my veins.
I was getting ready for work this morning, one eye somewhat enviously on the rest of my family —my husband and older son were fortunate enough to have the day off from work and school, and this relaxation of the normal routine was enough for an explosion of good spirits and more energy even than usual.
My husband, already understandably tired from a morning spent chasing our early-bird children, was sitting in his venerable and beloved recliner with the kids climbing on him, giggling, jumping from the side table into his arms.
Technically, they’re not allowed to do this. I smiled and held my tongue.
Then, in a move they probably couldn’t replicate if they both rehearsed it, both boys jumped at once, at the same angle, against the back of the recliner.
And over the chair — husband, boys and all — went.
I ran to help, relieved to see everyone was fine. My husband was a bit stunned and wrenched his arm catching the baby. The 5-year-old cried — sensitive enough to believe he was somehow going to get in trouble for it (he didn’t).
And the 18-month-old (curled in his father’s arm just as he started to pitch over the side and onto his head) bounced back to his feet, laughed — and then ran around to climb up the bottom of the chair and do it again.
Yeah. That’s what it’s like around our house right now.
We have enough restless, little-boy energy bottled up in our little home that if you could manage to hook it up to a power plant, you could probably run the city on it.
They want desperately to get outside and run around in the yard or at the playground. Due to the temperature or the conditions, they can’t. So the house gets turned into their gymnasium.
The bed is a trampoline. The couch is a runway. The bathtub is a swimming pool, and — if I don’t catch them fast enough — the dining room table is a stage.
I’m trying not to think about the two long months left until it’s technically spring ... and the one to two months past that when the season truly arrives in Western New York.
A lot of my old standby favorites — reading books, crayons and coloring, baking with mommy, “Sesame Street” — can help pass the time, but they can’t help burn the energy my boys just seem to naturally exude.
We’re blessed with some fine children’s museums in Western New York, but they involve a bit of a trip — not always feasible for a busy family.
It’s the same with the local children’s gyms, which are great but also have fees that can add up dramatically.
The mall, the children-friendly restaurants, the aquarium — they all have their merits, but they’re not really places where small children can simply run and work off energy.
I’ve tried to remember what I used to do as a child in the winter. Sledding played a big part in it, if memory serves.
So, I acquired a sled and made plans to take them sledding as soon as the deep freeze lifted — then it lifted too much and all the snow melted. Of course.
My children love books, but they’re not content to sit and read for hours like I did as a child. Same with coloring. Their beloved cars and trucks can only occupy them for so long.
Then I had it: A fort.
I remember building a small getaway with chairs and blankets and pillows and whatever was handy as a child when I was cooped up inside. It was a cave, a superhero lair, a castle. I whiled away hours pretending in such circumstances as a kid.
We’re going to give it a shot tonight. Wish me luck.
Here’s hoping Sam doesn’t try to use the chair as a catapult.
Jill Keppeler is a page designer and columnist for the Tonawanda News. What does your family do to get active small children through the winter? Let her know at jill.keppeler@tonawanda-news.com.
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