Review: Jump Park #chattanoogajump

I know there are naysayers and other negative nellies out there who will tell you that trampoline parks are huge liabilities to your back and are super spendy and are just incubators for Peter Pan Syndrome. And they are probably all right. For a funaholic like yours truly, though, I just cannot get enough of a Whole Warehouse Space Full of Trampoline. I had been to one before in Boston where you had to wear ghastly jumping shoes (yack!) but I'm so excited that we now have one in our Chattytown. And at Jump Park #CHA you can go barefoot!

My little man and I mounted a Friday morning trip last week and we had so much fun. The facility is clean (should be, they just opened), spacious, and nicely lit. The staff was quite helpful and friendly. There were about 20 people there at 11a on Friday and there were two "referees" on the trampoline floor, which seemed adequate (though I am not versed in the Tennessee Trampoliner Safety Guard per capita rules and regs).

This was my favorite ref guy:

Trampolining begins at the top of the hour when the refs go over the rules (Thou shalt only be one person on one trampo-square at a time). You have one hour until they call you off and it's pretty much plenty of time for the wee people in my life to get adequately trampo-cised.

Here's the pricing model. I like that they're not trying to punish parents of small children since they know we are going to spend most of our time taking crappy smartphone photos of our kids in mid-jump. Wait, what?

There appeared to be party rooms and there is a little cafe and a cubby/locker room area. Parking is on street (about a block from Finney Stadium) for now and was free but there appears to be some more lot space coming soon.

Before you go, be sure to sign the waiver online. Then you'll be all set to go and throw out your back when you get there with no one to blame for it. Hahah. Jokes.

Let me know if you go!

When your parenting map fails you

My place on the map shifted, and suddenly I was off the map. I was in parts unknown. I was not undiscoverable; I just needed another map that showed this new territory. The look in Baby Girl's eye, the tone in her voice had changed. I hadn't been here before, not with her. This was a new epoch in parenting her. She was six years-old now and asserting it. She resisted me now in a way that said, You aren't the only house on this street. I know there are other others and I've visited them. I've peeked into windows and seen how they do things differently. Compliance from her in this house was no longer guaranteed, she seemed to say.

I knew this shift in geography had been imminent for some time. An explorer does not come by her title by sitting on the couch, watching "Word Girl" and accepting that Captain Huggyface wraps it up neatly with a gorilla pantomime every time. She had questions, like, What will happen if I say no to this? and How far can this face of anguish take me? and What kind of consequences can I expect if I totally ignore directions here for as long as possible?

This is not a continental drift we are experiencing. Just a six year-old growing in complexity of character, which brings pain and elation and utter awe. As a parent, you see the face of the baby that you once held, whose dependence on you felt near-worshipful, and at the same time you see the face of the child whose independence is the merchandise you sent away for in a catalogue six years-ago, but when it finally arrived, it was packaged differently than expected. It was bigger and more overwhelming and more emotionally expensive than it had appeared in the picture.

Your child defies and you remember the prodigal son. How he returned and his father didn't have any questions for him. He just embraced his son. The difference is that the prodigal son was repentant and was open to the embrace.

When your children defy you, you also see the face of the child you once were, defiant because the whole world is unfair, and everything is awful and not your fault and totally ruined.

You stand with your child and you stand with the child you were. Then you realize that you can be, despite what geography tells you, in two places at once.