On my to-do list for this week is “mentally prepare for this weekend.” What’s going on this weekend? Great question, I would love to tell you.1 This Sunday is my daughter’s sixth birthday.
I suppose in a way I mean that I’m mentally preparing for all the feels that come with your child’s birthday: remembering the day she was born, pondering how fast time has flown, doing a mental scroll of the sweetest moments of her life so far.
But really I don’t mean it in that way.
What I’m actually preparing myself for is the main event – the birthday party – because this year we said yes to having her birthday at…get ready…A Trampoline Park.
What’s that? Sounds fun, you say? Everyone will have a blast, you say? Should be easy-peasy, you say? Well. All of that say-ing can only come from 1) someone who has not been to a trampoline park, or 2) someone who has been to a trampoline park who lacks a working nervous system.
Because if you have been to a trampoline park and you do have a working nervous system, you know the sensory situation I am preparing myself for. You know about
the quantity of people, most of whom are short and running everywhere, all-at-once in different directions, hurling themselves between squares of mesh that last time I checked were up there in the top two reasons for children’s trips to the ER.
the noise. Oh the noise. A screaming-children echo chamber with an overlay of music that you didn’t choose that you’re captive to that you have to act like you’re okay with.
the smell. No shoes allowed on the trampolines. Enough said.
So I’m mentally preparing for this weekend. And I consider this part of my gift to my daughter. Because boy is she excited. She is counting down the days. She loves to jump and loves a good party and loves cupcakes and her friends.
But best of all, in my eyes? She loves herself – unapologetically.
A few nights ago the kids and I went out to eat. While we were waiting on our food, she was coloring on her kids menu and said “Mom look at this”. I looked over and she had scribbled in waxy restaurant crayon2:
“I love my mom.
I love my dad.
I love [her brother].
I love my sef.”3
OH THE JOY of seeing her instinctively include herself in that list – no reservations, without a doubt, like loving oneself just as much as we love the people closest to us is the most natural thing in the world.
OH THAT WE ALL might scribble a love note like this (including “thy sef”) without reservation, without a doubt, often – and say to someone “Hey, look at this!”.
But there are things life does to a person – somewhere between six years old and adulthood – that make it hard to write or to say “I love myself”. That make it feel silly or arrogant or not fitting with “the hot mess that I am at this point in my life.” And yes, maybe it’s unrealistic to think that grown adults will go around telling people, even their closest people, “Hey, I love myself!”.
Maybe it looks a bit more like this:
Accepting that favor
Saying “whoopsies!” instead of “Boy I really screwed that up”
Recognizing and celebrating small victories
Taking that nap – and enjoying it
I’ll stop — I don’t want this to turn into a Top 10 Ways to Show Yourself Love list. I also admit I’m not good at any of these things.
I guess my point is – when my daughter wrote it so matter-of-factly on the back of that kids menu, and I was so (pleasantly) surprised, it made me realize that self-love is one of those things where the tables are turned – where the children can teach the adults.
And while I won’t be setting foot on a trampoline this weekend4, and despite the crowd and the noise and the smell, I’m actually looking forward to watching these kids jump and play and lick icing off the tops of their cupcakes and LOVE EVERY MINUTE OF THEMSELVES.
Shout out to Elyse Myers
Why are restaurant crayons so bad? Who is making these terrible crayons and selling them to restaurants?
Lest anyone think this is “what my kid does” while waiting for food at a restaurant, the 2 minutes she spent writing this little note and showing it to me was sandwiched in between writhing in supposed starvation and insisting on removing her shoe and sock because SOMETHING WAS TOUCHING HER TOE
Did that once a few years ago and yeah no my days on trampolines are over. Go for it, dads.
What a sweet anecdote. Also: complete bravery to do a trampoline party! I salute you. My nervous system would absolutely run for the hills
What a fun weekend ahead! Treasure it! But what a powerful lesson your daughter has to teach all us “grown-ups”.