I like the free time. I even like the sleepovers we've been having now that the house is off the market. But we get cabin fever and wiggly, and the only solution that works for us is to get out and move around.
Roller skating fit the bill Saturday.
Lexi spent 2nd grade, with ice skates pasted on her feet. She lived to skate, spending 3 or 4 days a week at the rink, until she came to a place that required a private coach and a 5 am wake up call and she called it quits. So, she strapped on her roller skates and within a few minutes, she was on her way.
Zack was another story. Forever cautious, he overthinks risky behavior - something I will appreciate when he's a teen, no doubt - worried he will get hurt or squished by the speedy teens, flying by.
I gave him some tips, and coasted nearby, watching him suffer through those first few trips around the rink, falling and running in place, keeping himself a float between falls. He'd fall and without missing a beat he was up, an animated tap dancer still trying to feel the music.
It took all my energy to keep from chuckling. He needed me to cheer him on when he'd get teary, exhausted and ready to go home. He'd take a break, sucking on the nasty skittles cherry spray I bribed him with, while Lexi and I glided to Eye of the Tiger. Because we are nerdy like that.
(I can't brag too long. My bruised
Apparently, he wasn't too traumatized.
I heard him telling his best friend later that night how much fun he had, learning to skate. Who knew.
Oh to have that kind of resilience, when I trip and fall, trying something new.