I hate the bouncy houses. I mean, I really hate them; I get a sick, nervous stomach when the boys are inside them. And it’s created a parenting perplexity for me. See the photo? I bet my HR is about 160 and my BP 150/90 (translation: high). I’m not kidding, I have a visceral and then flight-type response when the boys jump…it’s one of those instinctive parenting responses I am dutifully trying to govern and rule. See, I don’t want to hate bouncy houses. I want to be one of those moms who calms down, chats at the sideline, and chills out while my children enjoy the thrill of bounding around a primary-colored-over-sized balloon. Even this pediatric orthopedic surgeon at Stanford says she encourages families to have fun bouncing. And a pediatric ER doc I spoke to recently said she gleefully took her son to “the inflatables,” too. There was a calm in her voice when she told me. And then envy coming out of mine; I want to simply let my kids enjoy these houses without feeling tortured. But when F and O are bounding around in one of those houses, big kids flying, and limbs and heads rising about the horizon, I worry. And I can’t seem to rid myself of the response. When the birthday party invitation at the bouncy house comes with a waiver of fiscal responsibility for injury or death, you know something is up… Read full post »