Youth is Wasted

Young children seem to be full of energy.  My son is certainly a prime example; he seems to be constantly in motion.  I used to joke around with my husband about putting a hamster wheel in our house for Zane, so he could burn off energy and power up all of our electronic devices. 

But I sort of wasn't joking. 

My husband and I have been on our feet more than usual this past week, during the annual state torture assessments.  The tests require "active monitoring".   We can't do anything except walk around and stare at them.  All that walking keeps me awake, certainly.  But at the end of the day, when we go home, my husband and I are out of energy.  We sometimes don't even have the energy to remember where the remote is. 

My son, on the other hand, wants us to go outside in the backyard and look at caterpillars.  He wants us to help him fly dragons through the house.  He wants us to go with him to the park.  He wants us to put on capes and play Batman and Robin.  He wants us to take him bike riding.   He wants us to play "Lions in the Living Room"(a game which involves Zane riding an elephant, played by me, in search of lions).
As an only child, we are Zane's only play companions at home, because none of the cats will voluntarily wear the Batman hat.  But we are tired, our feet aching, our muscles protesting every movement.  I look at my child, with his abundance of energy, and I can't help but feel a little stab of jealousy.

Wouldn't it be nice to have the energy of a four year old, at least for one day?  I would settle for their nap time.