The Trampoline

So I know that I'm paranoid about the fact that my child is not moving as at fast a pace as I would like. But yesterday after spending a horrendous day at work where adults felt the need to act their shoezise instead of their age followed by an hour of yoga that stretched the living crap out of me (hips are currently in a state of traction), I went home to find hubby putting together a miniature trampoline that Tris had gotten for Christmas.

My husband is very mechanically inclined but he refuses to read instructions thoroughly and get it right the first time when means invariabley 3/4 way the building of soemthign we have to dismantle it because he did it wrong. I find the process most frustrating and a waste of time. I felt more distraught for my son who had sat by for hours waiting to be able to use the device. He kept saying, "let me help you" in the most yummy high-pitched voice. Of course the project was abandoned and he was highly distraught, but he really is coming along and I guess I just have to be patient.