`But then,’ thought Alice, `shall I NEVER get any older than I am now? That’ll be a comfort, one way–never to be an old woman- -but then–always to have lessons to learn! Oh, I shouldn’t like THAT!’

 

 

 

 

In Alice in Wonderland, Alice finds herself growing at a rapid rate.  Like any kid, she’s too big for some things, and too small for others.  Her frequent changes in size give her a new point of view on the world.  The same thing happens to all of us as we age. 

 

Everyone gets older sometime, with the possible exception of Christie Brinkley, who has probably made a pact with the devil.  But for most people, they can go along feeling all young and healthy until something happens, around about the third decade, to set them straight. 

 

The realization that age is creeping up on you can come about in several ways.  Maybe you tried to swing with your kids at the playground, only to find that they shrank the seat of the swing, and now your rear end is squeezed in a press.  Or you went to an amusement park, and discovered that there should be signs saying “You May Be Too Old For This Ride”.   I certainly figured this out and now have a list of rides you should not go on if you are over thirty (unless you are some totally in-shape mom, in which case you should go on the most dangerous rides possible.)

 

 

But never fear. There are still rides the over thirty crowd can enjoy. 

 

 

So there’s your handy guide for amusement parks, but you’re probably wondering why I mentioned trampoline.  Obviously no sane person over thirty would attempt to jump on one of these things, right?  Well, I bought a trampoline for my children.  They have birthdays a week apart (another brilliant plan of mine).  Remembering the days I used to spend hopping up and down for hours on a trampoline, I thought I might try it again with my kids.  As you might predict, things went horribly wrong.

 

No, I didn’t break my neck, but I almost wish I had. It would have put me out of my misery.  The first thing I noticed when I bounced was that my body DID NOT LIKE IT.  It let me know in various ways.  First off, my head started pounding, signalling that it did not like being throttled about on my creaky neck.  Next, not all of me jumped at the same time.  My behind and thighs stubbornly decided to revolt and remain where they were while the rest of me was airborne.  Finally, and this is advice for over-thirty women who have had babies – be sure and go potty first, or wear an adult diaper.  Trust me.

 

I thought all of that was bad enough until, after jumping on this thing several times (I blame my brain getting knocked about in my skull), I started to feel the aftereffects.  Namely, my entire body ached like I’d been on one of those medieval torture racks.

 

When did this happen?  I knew vaguely that I’d gotten older, but had so far managed not to get much more mature, so my body signaling to me this way was a bit of a surprise.  A rather painful one, and not just physically. Still, I want to be a part of my children’s fun.  So my view from a trampoline may have to change to that of observer . . . well observer being bounced up and down by an incredibly strong couple of children.