| On Friday night, I learned my limitation. I took ten | | | | smack on the ice. I landed on my wrists, and |
| pre-teengirls to the ice rink--along with little brother | | | | fullyrealized how hard the ice really is...and how much |
| Victor, who hadnever ice-skated in his life. | | | | more brittlemy bones are at my age...when I picked |
| At fortysomething, I had no deep-seated desire to | | | | myself up with a half-laugh and an under-my-breath |
| skate; thegirls afterall would skate by themselves and | | | | grunt of "I hope he was worth it." |
| completely ignoreme. I was cold. I was sore from my | | | | We were great, Victor and I. He took to the ice like |
| early-morning tennis game andhalf-hour workout with | | | | a duck towater and passed me whenever he could, |
| weights. In tiny Ridgefield, Connecticutin January, ice | | | | checking in with me everyfew dozen yards to make |
| skating on a Friday night is as good as it gets:the | | | | sure I was still alive. The second crashwas my swan |
| place was packed. Clearly two hundred children and | | | | song; I exited to the slightly warmer viewing |
| hormone-impaired middleschoolers were lacing up, | | | | roomwith ice on my butt and two clearly bruised |
| while little Victorbegged me to skate alongside him, | | | | wrists, totallyticked off that these kids had gotten |
| at this never-before-seen rink, with an | | | | the best of me. |
| almost-desperate look on his face. | | | | Five minutes later, I reminded myself why I was |
| Of course I had to oblige. "How tough could this be | | | | there in thefirst place: I had a 9-year-old son who |
| anyway?" Ithought as I snapped on my rented | | | | needed me, for crying out loud! It was back to the |
| skates. "I work out everyday," | | | | ice for another half-hour. Round and round we went, |
| I reassured myself. I skated as a kid. We'll take it | | | | avoiding the whippersnappers and pre-teen girls with |
| slowly. Ilook the part, what with my jeans, | | | | a vengeance. My daughter and her nine friends? |
| turtleneck, and down vest. Imean...I could pass for | | | | Forgetaboutem. Caught in their own little world-on-ice, |
| one of these kids if you caught me at the right angle! | | | | checkingout each face that whirled past them, I was |
| We got onto the ice, Victor holding my hand with a | | | | only the night-timedriver and MasterCard-holder. |
| look of "Can I do this, Mom?" and me with an | | | | The evening ended with hot cocoa drunk by giggling, |
| "it's-like-riding-a-bike-you-never-forget-how" assurance. | | | | rosy-cheekedgirls. Victor, encouraged by my |
| The first time around was, well, awkward would be | | | | proddings of "You're doing sogreat!" now had his |
| anunderstatement. I was wobbly. Victor held me up. | | | | sights set on ice hockey. And my left wrist,though |
| When I asked him how he was doing, he was clearly | | | | clearly black and blue from a dozen broken blood |
| in control. "I rollerblade,remember, Mom?" Oh | | | | vessels,was not much worse for the wear. |
| yeah...that. | | | | Will we do that again? Absolutely. Cold air, oxygen to |
| Dozens of wiry boys...barely as high as my | | | | the brain, rosy cheeks, laughter, friends, bonding with |
| kneecap...who hadclearly been skating since they | | | | my kids, and a sense of community in this New |
| could crawl...zigzagged in andout of my path like | | | | England town of mine are just too compelling. |
| cockroaches when caught in the dark by a | | | | Looking like a fool when I fall? Black-and-blue |
| quickly-turned-on light. Whippersnappers! In and out | | | | reminders of mymiddle age? Bruises to my ego? |
| they skated, so fast and with such precision that it | | | | Well...that's all part ofmotherhood. |
| took my misted-breath away. | | | | Keeping the spirit of the holidays after the holidays |
| Did I mention the strobe lights? Just when I thought | | | | haveclearly passed is one of the challenges of being a |
| it was safeto look down and see where I was going, | | | | Rocket Mom. |
| the lights playing on the ice only made me dizzy. I | | | | Keep your eyes wide open for opportunities |
| was reassured by my assessment when Victor | | | | throughout the nextcouple winter months to create |
| exclaimed: "Mom, don't look down! You'll throw up!" | | | | special memories with your kids. |
| By the third or fourth time around, I was feeling | | | | Be it snow-skiing, ice skating, or sledding; or creating |
| much moreconfident. But when a pre-teen girl caught | | | | uniquepottery at your local paint bar...be prepared for |
| sight of a hottie andabruptly skated | | | | giggles and memory-making...and check your ego at |
| backwards...directly in front of me...I wasknocked | | | | the door. |