This is a picture of my Rosie girl. My beautiful, amazing, strong, bold and daring Rosalicious. She is incredible. She was basically fresh from dance class, recently changed from her tights and leotard into her PJs - and she was so excited about her class that she took a flying leap off of the ottoman - and was promptly chastised by her father for standing on the furniture.
...
I totally rolled my eyes as soon as he said it.
I often feel like a kid trapped in an adult body. Yes, we need to get things done - but I genuinely am unfazed by children climbing on countertops or jumping on furniture. It's just stuff, right? So as long as they are being safe, I am usually pretty comfortable letting the kids be kids (and sometimes being the adult kid) and having lots of laughs in the process.
Rich, however, does not share my views. He is perfectly content shirking all responsibility whenever the opportunity presents itself, but he is usually looking to play countless hours of video games and pass out on the couch while ignoring the sink full of dishes. He is constantly telling the kids to be careful with our already broken and ripped 12-year old couch...and not jump on or off of the furniture...and not to climb.
Here is my secret...
In addition to rolling my eyes when he silences the crazy, I totally encourage the behavior as soon as his back is turned!
I know! It is totally shitty of me - but I do! I really believe that kids should be kids and stuff is just...stuff...and I would rather have the laughter and giggles and the uncontrolled, unbridled chaos than order and calm.
So last night, when he left the room, Rosie asked me if she could jump again and if I would take a picture of her mid-flight. My response? "Did Daddy leave yet? No? Wait until he goes..."
Once the door was closed and the car was down the driveway, my leaping ballerina was back up on that ottoman, showing off her jumping skills...and there I was, capturing each and every one on my phone, encouraging her every step of the way. We have video. We have live photos. We have still photos. We have memories because we had fun.
I'm sure Rich would be less than thrilled if he knew that the kids and I are co-conspirators in our occasional rule-defiance...but what he doesn't know, isn't going to hurt us!
