Mom on wheels
Sometimes I stop mothering. I’m present, but not participating. I show up, but I don’t contribute. I shuttle my kids to and fro, but I zone out on the sidelines, engrossed in my own little world of this, that and the other. I think it’s a coping mechanism, a way to handle the pressures of incessant chatter, rule-making and bad habit breaking. Sometimes, though, you have to join the fray. They need to know you’re all in, no matter the price of broken bones or cracked ribs.
We were invited to a friend’s birthday party over the weekend. I swallowed my pride/fear-of-breaking-a-hip. They loved every second of it … and so did I.
Who knew muscle memory lasts 25+ years. It took a few minutes, but I remembered how to roller skate. I wasn’t half bad — too bad I couldn’t find a cute boy my age to hold hands with while circling the rink. There was one available, but he was holding my camera and refused to change out of his sneakers.
I skated circles around the kids (I didn’t want them to drag me down).
I came, I conquered, I didn’t fall … it was a good day in the mother hood.
I’m so glad the birthday girl invited us to her party.
I’m happy for friends and smiles and roller rinks that have been around for decades.
I’m happy I played hard and participated.
And believe it or not, I’m happy that 40 is swiftly approaching.
I’m really digging this “getting older and wiser” time of life!
Have a great week, friends. Hope you’re able to skate through the days … without broken bones!