Just Call Him Mary-Lou

I wasn't aware when we purchased the new living room furniture that we had actually gotten more for our money. Not only did we purchase a couch, loveseat, end tables, and coffee table - we also purchased a full gymnastic studio for Wilson.

He's been told not to climb on the furniture more than once. I'd venture to say he believes his mother only knows two sentences - "I love you", and, "Don't jump on the couch". I'm not trying to be a pain about the couch thing, but the truth of it is that if he does it at my house, he'll do it at yours and then you will wish I had been more strict. If you can't do it at home, you won't dare do it at someone else's.

Poor kid. I remember what it's like. Nate and I used to pile pillows, cushions, and blankets at the bottom of the stairs to our basement and then jump off the stairs onto them. No, we never broke anything. We did, however, learn that if you went much higher than 7 stairs you would bang your head on the ceiling in your attempt to land on the pillows. And then Mom saw us and it was all over. Moms have a way of ending the best of times by citing potential personal and/or property damage.

Wilson, unfortunately, does not have a staircase or a basement. He's all boy and there's something about gravity he's determined to test. So he's taken to running and landing on the couch where he waits just long enough to bounce into the air and land across the room. Again, I wouldn't care if I weren't sure he'll do this to someone else's couch and, well, it's a new couch.

Warnings and time-outs have worked - some. There's just the call of the couch springs that get the best of him. Obviously he likes that kind of thing and I'm certainly not wanting to end his fun.

His friend at school is attending gymnastics. Stuart's mom raved about it. This is a class where they go a few times a week and get the bounce worked out of them in a space appropriate area, with professional instructors who know how to show the boys to bounce and test gravity - with the benefits of padding and no new furniture.

So we sign him up and he and Maria join a preschooler class. I've never actually tried to herd cats, but I bet teaching preschool gymnastics is as close as you can get. They loved it and God bless their instructor. Lucky for me she has a son not much older than Wilson.

My boy, jumping up and down on the trampoline, would stop what he was doing and turn around to the stands where I was sitting with Maria's parents. He gave me the "thumbs up" and blew me a kiss. Sigh, eyes get a little teary, and I promise myself to make a mental snapshot of his face in that place, in that moment so I don't think about killing him the next time he tries to be an Olympic gymnast on my living room furniture...