My college roommate, Karen, was the first of my college friends to have a baby. Some of my favorite memories are of Dayna and I making the trek from one end of New York State to the other to visit Karen and little Hannah. While most girls our age would be out partying if they got together with their old college friends, the three of us would hang out in Karen's apartment, our sides splitting with laughter over whatever it was Hannah was doing to entertain us (ie, pulling on her hair whenever she heard a Hebrew term such as "mazel tov" or "Rosh Hashanah." Guess you had to be there.). After one solid laughter-induced ab workout, Karen looked at her daughter and said, "I'm so glad my kid can hang."
"I'm so glad my kid can hang" has stuck with me ever since. Thankfully, eleven years later, I have kids of my own who can hang. Ryan and I aren't a couple who have date nights...while I consider myself to be a rather cheap date, factor in a babysitter's wages and you end up with an empty wallet. But we have a lot of fun, and we include our kids in our fun. They love movie nights at home, bike rides as far as their little legs will take them, and hearing live music at the oceanfront, even in the dead of winter. Last weekend, while we were enjoying this:
Brynn and Camryn were enjoying this:
The band shown above would be The Deloreans, a local 80s cover band that's totally rad. Brynn and Camryn have been warned that the next time we go see The Deloreans play, we'll be in full 80s attire. And Kevin takes complete credit for that dude becoming Billy Idol, but that's neither here nor there. The point is, my kids can hang.
Not only can they hang when we create the fun for them, but they are ambassadors of their own fun as well. I was overwhelmed by the number of techy toys in stores this past holiday season, and I texted Meghan, my go-to gal for all things educational, to see if there was anything in particular she thought my kids should have. Her professional opinion was forego all of it and foster my girls' imaginations. Best. Advice. Ever. Instead of zoning out playing games on gadgets, this is what happens in the Psimas house:
BMX practice. In pajamas and dress shoes.
Staircase sledding with trash bags
Wildin' out dance party on Mom and Dad's bed. I believe they've got the moves like Jagger.
I'm so glad my kids can hang.