My friend Jen just turned 29- again. She is my Kentucky girl, the one solid friend I know I will miss when we fly the coop and head back east...someday. Last week she threw-out the idea of roller skating for her birthday and, in the middle of her hesitancy, I so clearly heard the longing. For fun. For memories. For being goofy and growing up but not washing out.
It was obvious that we needed to skate!
Two evenings ago, Big Strong Man and his best and coolest friend tore out old, moldy vents from our basement (a story for another time) and replaced them with new, shiny - and clean- ones. This adventure was dirty and gross, as was it time consuming. Big Strong Man needed the evening to rest, so when yesterday rolled around, it was the boys and I, headed a skating rink.
Here's something interesting: All three of our sons have been raised the same. Same parents. Same living situations. Same grace and grit. Their personalities, however, are all theirs!
When he was three, Zeplin asked if he could learn to skate. We were living in North Carolina and Demitri was a baby. I remember buying the elbow and knee pads (Disney's Planes) and taking him to class. I remember him falling into a line of other students, knocking the entire line over. And I remember running out to him in the middle of the rink, Demitri nursing, and rescuing him from a spill he had taken. Now, Zep is 11 and was the first to ask if we can come back because the kiddo was able to make the loop around the rink on his own and have a good time doing so.
Of all my kiddos, he tends to be the most shy. When competition is perceived, real or not, he is quick to back out. Because he is naturally smart and good at so much, he is reluctant to persevere when something does not come easily to him. And yet, last night, he skated and skated and did most of it to the beat of his own drum...or the loud music, as 90's remixes and disco balls are a prerequisite to roller roost etiquette.
Demitri is my fireball. He has always been, although he has softened in the past year into a sincerely tender and amazing kiddo. He was -of course- the first to get bored- always ready to move on to the next cooler and more exciting activity. To his credit, he was the last to take his skates off, although a portion of his time was spent sitting in front of the large screen tv watching the Incredibles, and another portion was bouncing around the arcade from game to game.
He is the son who sees the cotton candy, the Skittles machine, the arcade, Lazer tag, golf...he sees it all and wants it all. After spotting a lonesome quarter on the floor, he and his pal decided to scan the entire place finding rogue coins...and they came up with about 5. Demitri was wildly proud of himself and excitedly purchased quarter machine Jaw Breakers and candy-coated coffee beans.
Thatcher surprised me the most. The kid is 7 and no longer a baby. This is tricky for a mom who cannot seem to understand that he doesn't need her like he always had. "Let me go" was the theme of last night as I tried so hard to keep him from falling and he just wanted to skate on his own. Stubborn, that one. With the help of the birthday girl, we tried to coax him into holding our hands so he could skate between us, but he wanted nothing to do with it. "I know how to do this", he insisted, over and over, falling, over and over.
In this past year, we noticed that he tends to want to do his own thing and, though fostering independence is a great quality, there is a breaking point which occurs around the up-teenth time he refuses to listen to me and I about lose my patience.
We were there for about an hour when everyone fell into a grove of siting and skating, playing and exploring. The place was small enough that I did not feel a need to have eyes on the boys at all times- another tricky conundrum about your children getting older and not constantly needing your helicopter eyes upon them. When the boys decided they needed a collective break, Jen and I took off for the rink and skated to Post Malone and the Jonas Brothers. It was giggly fun and nostalgic and then reality hit me.
I didn't fall. Graciously, I never ended-up on my back side, but somewhere between the time I noticed the 90's clothing making a come-back on the 15-year-olds, and the older men twirling on the rink, I realized two things: 1- if I fall it is going to hurt much worse now than it ever did as a child, and 2- I AM now the older person skating. I became Jim, the "older man" who always skated at the Roller Roost when I was a kiddo, going there with my cousins during the summer and buying every color rabbit's tail there was, eating square pizza, and using the bathroom with the shower curtain for a door.
This is a great lesson in growing older gracefully- wobbly skating legs and all!
In the end, all three boys asked about returning. It cost a small fortune and will likely not happen anytime soon, but we made some fun memories, experienced something new (or new-again), and we celebrated with a great friend...because in the end, you only turn 29- again once!
No comments:
Post a Comment