If there is one thing I’ve learned about raising kids it’s that something that works once doesn’t necessarily work a second time. A few weeks ago we went to Airworx in Chandler, AZ. We took all three boys and had a great time. The place was crowded and smelled of Body Oder and old socks. The music blared over a massive crowd of mixed aged children. Everyone played until their little hearts thundered exhaustedly. My middle one was allowed to play in the big kid area, which gave him the space he need to do the flips he came to do in the first place. This second time we brought a 4th kid–our nephew. We expected him to add to the dynamic by being the 2nd four year old, allowing the kids to pair off and play wonderfully. This didn’t exactly come to pass. In my opinion, the kids would have had as much fun staying home and playing on our own jump set as they did wandering aimlessly through a near empty Airworx.
The problems began once the staff decided to follow the rules. They labeled my six year old as such, limiting him to the area where his 4 year old brother and 4 year old cousin could play–in other words, demoting him. This also isolated my eldest, preventing him from playing with anyone in his family (they don’t encourage adults to participate) and thus leaving him with virtually nobody to play with. It led to a lot of roaming, complaining, standing around, and of course, tears.
As a parent it can be hard to grasp why a kid will sit and complain in a place you yourself never had the chance to come to as a kid. However, I cannot in fairness equate my experiences to their own. In an absolute reduction I just wanted someone to notice me and play with me. As the afternoon wore on I realized my kids were looking for the same thing. The structure of the place prevented that from happening. Instead, the kids were in a place with these fabulous trampolines and it didn’t matter. I focused on the stuff around them for so long, neglecting the simple truth that the stuff didn’t matter; it’s how and who interacts with the stuff that makes the playtime worthwhile.
I think that I spent a ton of time and money getting things to occupy my kids. The goal was to make sure they had all the stuff it didn’t have as a kid and, feasibly, that would make them happy. Looking back on my own youth, the theme there was isolation. I was happy alone only if I had cool stuff to do. My kids aren’t alone. They have each other and they have my wife and I. These are the things I didn’t have, so I was forced to find happiness in stuff. My wife didn’t have stuff so she was forced to find happiness in people. So as we raise our kids she is constantly confused as to why they aren’t impressed by the stuff she didn’t have. I am confused why they don’t play with each other non stop 24 hrs a day, because I believe I would’ve done that given the chance.
In the end I’m learning that my kids are individuals who aren’t me and aren’t my wife. They are their own people who don’t exist under the same conditions and context that we did as children. As such, they see the world in their way, not ours.
Some thoughts:
- Not to be superstitious but it would’ve been epic had my 1313 blog fallen on Friday the 13th. Alas, it wasn’t meant to be.