Daddy jungle gym

"You will always be your child's favorite toy." 

~ Vicki Lansky, Trouble-Free Travel with Children, 1991

So far this is true.  For some reason my children not only see me as "daddy," but also as a jungle gym.  They will climb on, step on, pull and push on, my legs, back, stomach, head, and arms.  Some days I feel as though I was placed on this earth to serve as my childrens' personal tree to climb. 

Last night we were winding down the night.  I had just given Riley a bath and emerged as soaking wet as she was, only fully clothed.  She is nearly ten months old and has learned that splashing is fun, but splashing daddy is funny.  She laughs at my reactions to the unexpected drops of water that bounce off of my eye ball.  Its like she knows exactly when to splash, just as I turn my head around.  Anyway, I had just gotten her dried off and clothed when Ashley and Cooper came into her room.  Then my role as the toy began.

Ashley sat in the recliner while Riley was playing with Cooper on the floor. I was laying on the floor when Cooper decided I was her personal surf board.  She jumps onto my back, standing up, and begins to "ride the waves" while shifting her weight to stay up.  When she is tired of surfing my back, she decided I was better use as a horse.  So she began to sit on my back and bounce up and down in an attempt to get me to get up on all fours and walk her around.  

When she was younger, and smaller, I used to do that.  I had to be careful though because I never knew when the game was starting.  If I was on the floor for any reason she would run up and jump on, ready or not.  I would be bent over picking something up from the floor and got pounced on.  It was like she was a cat lying in wait for the prime time to strike because her timing was always perfect.  So out of the surprise I would pop up and the game was on.  

Ever seen "mutton bustin?"  If not, look it up.  It is ridiculously funny.  There are five and six year old children attached to the back of sheep running around the arena at a full out sprint.  The kids are hanging on for dear life, squealing and loving every minute of it.  That is similar to Cooper jumping on my back.  I bounced around the room while she grabbed me around the neck, holding on as tightly as possible.  I only stopped when the air supply to my brain was reduced and caused me to black out.  Well, not really, but I was getting choked.  

So, last night, I was again expected to be the mutton Cooper wanted to bust.  I just didn't have the energy.  So I would roll over and off she went.  Thinking I thwarted her plans, I would roll back onto my stomach and get jumped on again.  Apparently it was more fun to get tossed around every time I turned over.  So, a new game had begun.  

Cooper isn't the only one.  Riley has also learned the fun of climbing on daddy.  Another time I was again lying on the living room floor, but this time on my back.  My eyes were closed because I thought, erroneously, that I could get a quick forty winks.  Riley had other plans.  She crawled across the room and slapped me in the face.  Oh so funny to get that surprise.  She proceeded to crawl onto my face, and over to the other side.  Then, she crawled back across my chest to get back to the toy Cooper had.

The funny thing about this is, it does not matter where we are, my children think I am their toy.  Hannah and Cooper have walked up to me while standing with other adults having a conversation.  Each will pick a side and walk right up next to me so that I have to move my arms up.  Thinking my children were being affectionate and wanting a hug, I raise my arms a little.  Seeing the opportunity they intentionally created, they jump and wrap their hands around my biceps and hang on.  They lift their feet off the ground and just dangle.  Now, had I been expecting it, I may have been able to prevent tragedy.  But, on one occasion, they fell to the floor, crashing down because my tree limbs cracked under the unexpected pressure.  My apologies to my children.  

As I get older, and the kids get bigger, I wonder how I will survive.  Ashley may need to stock up on ice packs and ace bandages so I can survive the next decade.  But in the end, injury and embarrassment are worth a few minutes of fun with my children.  Hannah already is to the point where she remembers climbing on me when she was younger and telling me how much fun the "daddy horse" was.

It is worth it to be "daddy jungle gym" for the sake of creating a few memories for them, and being their favorite toy...as long as I don't end up in traction.