We headed out to Gavin Park to meet some friends and their children for a bit of Sunday morning fun. The adults in the group drank coffee and caught up on jobs, kids and current events while the children chased each other up the spider climber, across the monkey bars up the climbing wall and down the slide. It's an activity that seems to reoccur about once every month if schedules allow and both adults and kids agree that it's a pretty good way to start the week. The adults get the lowdown on daycare while the kids blow off steam so the adults can rest during the nap time that follows. Sounds pretty good, right?

Well, mostly. After hours of fun in the sun, my son took a nose dive off the climbing wall and split his lip. Crying then bleeding ensued while the adults ran around (mostly me) collecting paper towels, ice and in the end a Popsicle.

My husband and I (and our friends, for that matter) should be used to this. In fact, our son has endured nine stitches and a second degree burn in the last year. He's a trouper and heals as quickly and easily as one can under the circumstances, but that doesn't change the heart-pumping, nerve-wracking parental turmoil that these accidents bring along with them. He's a very adventurous boy - a real thrill seeker. It sounds funny to describe my not yet four year old that way, but he's just that. In fact, he's most likely genetically predisposed to be that way.

My husband was an extreme sport enthusiast before that term ever existed, I was super sporty as a kid, and we both have a history of climbing, diving, and jumping off high places in search of adventure. We see the twinkle in our son's eyes when he begins the ascent to a new height. Although he's quite agile - as everyone on the playground today pointed out, we still cringe at the recognition of the fearlessness in him knowing that there will be times that stitches, burns, blood and broken bones may follow. We know this because we've been there.

Now both in our mid-forties, we get our kicks from being early adopters of technology (him) and creating rockin' marketing campaigns (me). Our son, on the other hand, is just at the beginning of what will likely be years of thrill-seeking, adrenaline-pumping fun.

I'd like to say that the only thing I'm feeling is fear and concern for my son's well being. But to be perfectly honest, I'm just a little bit jealous.