The best investment we made when we moved to Ohio was to purchase a trampoline. Sure, people die on trampolines. I know. We fretted about that. But since I was already the mom who said “no” to a backyard swimming pool (I’m definitely not a good enough mother to always remember to lock the sliding door so no toddler drowns), it seemed sane to risk broken arms with a trampoline.
It’s the one piece of backyard play equipment that was as attractive to my little kids as my teens. We played a family game where the kids would jump and Jon and I would hurl balls at them; Yeah—good times!
The trampoline was a great place for a one on one chat. I’d climb on top and lay on my back next to a kid who needed to talk—sky and tree branches above offered a place to look without eye contact. Fresh air expands the conversation.
Kids did math and copywork on the trampoline. They jumped together and alone. They made up their own games. They exhausted themselves on days of agitation and too little activity.
Teens in love sat on the tramp talking or laid side by side for privacy yet in public—the perfect combination.
This post is originally from Instagram and @juliebravewriter is my account there so come follow along for more conversations like this one!
