TheMommyBlog

Sunday, December 23, 2007 Familybits

Gil and I took the kids roller skating today at the San Jose Skate and Orthopedic Referral Park.

It seemed a good idea at the time; the boys were itching to do something active, Dylan was breaking Daphne down slowly but surely, and I could only get away with sewing so long before they all climbed on me and refused to budge.

“When are you going to be done, Mama?”

“Um, looks like I’m done now.”

“Really? Can we go do something?”

“Let’s call your dad.”

Two hours later we were at the roller rink, trying to make good decisions about skates that are rented only by whole sizes. It sounded familiar, and not at all safe. I was right.

We had about twenty minutes of solid progress inching around the rink with Daphne skating like a Lippizzaner—she pranced on the floor like it was a hot plate—instead of taking long, sweeping glides as I encouraged her.

“One foot at a time, sweetie, left, right, left… no, don’t try to walk, you won’t ever get moving on tiptoe.”

Finally, when Logan and Dylan had it under control, Gil took Daphne while I skated a few laps to get my legs under me. I was the shit in grade school, and I just needed to warm up a bit before trying again with Daphne, this time with me skating backward, pulling her along.

On the second lap I saw them near an exit, planned to sail past, but when they turned to step out I had to do a sudden, spinning stop at Mach 3. I went the full 180 degrees, feet flying up, landed on my rear, and finally broke the fall with the back of my head as I slid to a stop. That did it for me; I was a spectator after that. No vomiting, no blurriness, but my head hurt something fierce. I sat by the trash in case I had to hurl. (No overt symptoms of concussion, though who can tell in a skating rink? We were cracking up.)

“Do you see flashing lights?”

*Snort*

“Hear funny noises?”

“High pitched? All saying “Mommy?”

“Head hurt? Anything blurry?”

“I think I hear the BeeGees.”

“That’s not good.”

“I think my contacts flew out.”

“Really?”

I palpated my eyeballs. “Nah, they’re here. But I can’t see very well. Then again who could tell? You look ten years younger, and I can’t read the rental rates.”

“You’d better sit down.”

“We’ll see when I get home and put on my glasses.” And with that I slumped over on a bench, waiting to snuggle each child as they each took a break and then scampered off again.

Daphne did absolutely wonderfully, skating all by herself for the last half hour, Dylan learned to skate on his haunches, and Logan mastered roller blading. Fun, but I don’t think I want to do it again for a few decades.

It’s nine p.m. now, and Daphne and I are having a Girl’s Night tonight. The boys are with Dad, so we made spinach pizza and drank soda and wine in front of The Wizard of Oz, finishing with Crunch bars and Drumsticks.

Head much better now.