How to break a Mom Bod:

Mom bods are incredible, no matter what size, shape or level of squishiness they come in. What we put these bodies through is pretty amazing actually. We make humans, feed them and chase after them every day without ever taking a break! But like so many moms, I have not been taking great care of my own mom bod, and consequently I am not in the best shape of my life. However, the story I am about to launch into has nothing to do with this current state of affairs, and everything to do with the fact that, big or small, I have zero balance, grace, or athleticism in me. This is apparently a constant in my life, no matter what this body is capable of...

It was freezing a couple weekends ago. Like, come on Spring, we're all tired of waiting now. Anyways, the kids were restless, we were bored, and this led me to propose a spontaneous idea – let's head to FUNTROPOLIS!! Even saying the name is fun! We had never been before (thanks, covid), and I figured the kids would really like it. Since it was a last minute decision and it was already late in the day, we were rushed to get out the door.

I remembered reading on their site that you need to take your shoes off, makes sense of course, and that to access the play areas you needed to be in socked feet. Now, it's worth noting here that I am barefoot about 97% of the time. Which means, obviously, maximum grip to the floor.

Anyways, while Stephan took the kids down to get them loaded in the car, I found a hole-less pair of socks and headed after them. Except I didn't adjust my gait or speed to account for the socks – the second my foot hit the top step I was airborne. Landed about halfway down the stairs, hitting my tailbone on every stair in between. SO painful. My bum was already bruised up (clumsy, remember?) from landing on an ice patch at the bottom of an outdoor slide a few weeks ago, so this was brutal.

But I'm a mom...and my kids had just been promised FUN and trampolines. So I cried a little, picked myself up, and stiffly headed to the door.

Funtropolis was packed, obviously. Since I was a little sore, and getting worse, Stephan was in charge of climbing up after the kids while I waited at the bottom of the slides. After about 6 trips up and down though, while wearing a mask in a crowded and very warm space, he was starting to bead sweat. So I volunteered to take a turn.

As I headed up I realized it wasn't so bad, just climbing up big foam steps, easy peasy! Higher and higher we went till we got to the top of the big slides – exciting!! Kids 3+ can slide down alone so off went Finn like a champ and Stephan met him at the bottom, big smiles all around! I loaded Charlie onto my lap and off we went, yay!!

Except wait...this slide was bigger than it looked from the ground, and I was going faster than expected. About halfway down and coming in hot, I remembered my poor bruised bum. The mat at the bottom looked pitifully thin, and so I made a decision as I barreled down that slide – I was going to stand up and run like the wind when I got down, while holding my 30lb baby, instead of sliding onto the mat.

In retrospect, the extra bruise on my tailbone may have been better than the giant bruise to my ego. I did manage to stand, briefly, before momentum propelled me forward. Unfortunately for me, my legs didn't think to start the running motion until I was already in the air. I'm not really sure what happened next, and what direction my body went in – Stephan doesn't know either, maybe I was going so fast it was too blurry to tell (Funtropolis, if you have security footage I want it). All I know is, I remembered to keep my arms up over my head, holding Charlie off the ground, and I landed flat on my front with my shirt over my head and Charlie laughing in front of me. It's worth stating here, for context, that this particular slide leads right into the main seating area, where I estimate about 200 people were having a snack at the time.

It took me a few seconds to recover myself, mostly because I was laughing so hard. Pulled my neck a little and my tailbone is still killing me over a week later, so not sure it was worth it. Although I probably did make a couple people laugh, and thankfully my kids are still too little to be mortified of me (I can't say the same for Stephan but he's used to my clumsiness now!).

The worst part about being getting hurt or being sick is that your kids really couldn't care any less. You're broken?...I don't care, carry me up the stairs anyways. Sick? I still need 18 snacks in a 3 hour period. Resting? We'll just be here jumping on the other half of the bed, don't worry.

On the flip side...they do help you get out of any kind of pity party you're thinking of having for yourself! No time to dwell on yourself, someone just spilled cereal all over the floor...what age does empathy develop again?? Any day now, hopefully!

And Funtropolis, I forgive you. We'll be back ;)