My Sledding Experience: I Don’t Bounce Like I Used To

They say that as you get older you get wiser. I learned a lot today when we went sledding. I don’t know if I am any wiser, but I did learn that I don’t bounce like I used to.

When I was younger I had no fear. I would start at the top of the tallest hill, take a running leap and belly flop on the sled and go flying down the hill face first. We would weave in and out of trees. We even had double ramps and we always got plenty of air. And going back up the hill to do it again…no problem. And if we crashed, it wasn’t bad. We just shook it off and was ready to do it again.

But something happens to our bodies when we get older, at least mine anyway. When I crash, it hurts. I don’t know if it is because of age and I’m not as flexible as I used to be. Maybe it’s because I’m not as physically fit. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not lazy. I chase after four kids all the time. That is plenty of physical activity to keep me fit and trim. But when I crash now, it really does hurt. I go limping back up the hill, if I make it at all, trying not to think about how it looked to everybody else. And also knowing I’m going to be feeling this all week long. Dang, I’m just not as young as I used to be.  

Maybe it is also because we’re more cautious now that we are older. We take into consideration all of the variables that could happen before we go sledding down that hill or doing some other stupid daring trick. I mean, I don’t have time to have a broken leg or arm. I have too many other people to take care of to be down like that.

But most of the time, I do it anyway. I’m just not quite as a daredevil as I used to be. This time there were no trees to steer between.

It all began when I was at the bottom of the hill watching the kids sled down. I was cheering for them and making sure they didn’t go too far and hit any obstacles. It looked like so much fun and eventually I was at the top of the hill sending the kids down to Brad. The extra sled was laying there, tempting me. Childhood sledding memories flew in like snowflakes and the reasoning part of my brain was frost-bitten and not working at that moment, I guess. I’m going down, I decided.

Now, I am smart enough that I didn’t start at the top of the hill. I started half way down. I don’t think it would have mattered where I started, crashing is always hard. I flew down the snowy hill and felt the rush of adrenaline. The next thing I knew, my face was in the snow and my hat flew off. I don’t know if I did a backwards somersault or just flopped over like a beached whale. Whatever it looked like I know it wasn’t graceful. But it did hurt. I just don’t bounce like I used to.

You know, I have always wanted to be the mom who participates in activities with their kids. I want to sled down the hill with them. I would probably even have a lapse of forgetfulness and try that ramp at the skatepark. But I try to remember to take it easy. There are some things I just can’t do like I used to. I can still play baseball, though!  

I took it easy the rest of the day with our winter play. I was cautious. I didn’t do any more sledding. Instead I flung my kids down the hill as fast as I could so I could relive those childhood memories somehow. Hearing their giggles and laughter, seeing their rosy cheeks, and watching them crash was more than enough enjoyment for me.

We had a great time. We even made a baby snowman.

Do you still go sledding with your kids? Or do you cheer from the sidelines? I would love to hear your sledding adventures.

xxx

Winter Scarves and Empty Santa Threats

The heat started blaring cold air through the vents as soon as I started the car. It always seems to take forever to warm up. I said my thank you to the seat warmer as I flipped the switch. It heats up instantly. A warm butt equals a warm me. This motto was instilled into me at a very young age because of my mom. When my sister and I were kids she would always make us get winter coats that covered our bottoms, “to keep us warm,” she would say. I always thought this idea was ridiculous. I wanted the turquoise coat with the tight elastic waistband and white stripes going up the front (it was the 80’s when I was a kid). That never happened. We were forced to pick out a sensible winter coat that covered our butts, and preferably a long coat that covered our legs. Ugh!

“Mom,” Bradley said from the backseat. He’s wearing a black stocking cap and bright blue stretchy gloves that do not what-so-ever match his gray coat. For some reason he loves those silly gloves, so to me he looks super adorable. “I need a scarf. Scarves are cool.” He has mentioned this once before when Brad was in the car. Brad said, “Scarves are for girls.” I protested this immediately. Let the kid wear a scarf if he wants to. He’s in kindergarten.

“And I want some of those things that go over your ears.”

“Earmuffs,” I told him. “You know, Santa will be coming soon. Maybe he will bring you some.”

This Santa business is my excuse for everything this time of year. I get the necessities and wrap them up. Socks and underwear. New jeans and gloves. And of course some toys. I’m not a mean Santa. If he’s lucky he will get a tooth-brush in his stocking, maybe even an electric one! Heck, I haven’t actually thought much about Christmas yet, and I should be with six kids to get presents for. Phew!

I also love the threat of Santa. If you are a parent you know exactly what I mean. Even if you aren’t a parent, think back to when you were a kid. “Santa is watching. He knows if you are good or bad.” So if the boys are acting up, I’ve pulled the Santa threat out of my stocking and said, in my mom warning voice, “Boys, you better behave. Santa is watching.” Of course Santa is watching. I’m right here.

But when you think about it…it is kind of creepy. Some guy you don’t know is always watching you and may or may not bring you presents. We have weird traditions. 

I pulled up along side of Bradley’s school and let him out. I kissed the top of his head as he was trying to escape to the playground.

“Have a super good day!” I called out. “I’ll pick you up after school.”

“Bye, Mom,” he said, not looking back.

I pulled away. Off to work.

xxx

Winter Desert

The sunshine glaring through the windows creates a mosaic pattern on my hardwood floors,

light, dark, medium, tan,

 bronze, beige, and brown woodgrain,

play in patterns on my dining room floor.

The icicles drip like leaky faucets from the awnings until they completely disappear. The crispy ice that is frosting the trees crackles and crumbles onto frozen sidewalks.

I look out my dining room window where last years garden looks like a dusty desert with crispy left over plants from last season. It is a brown oasis in the middle of a snow bank. I never got to pull it out last year because I was in the hospital (which I will write about at a later date).

Looking at it makes me sad. Sad that I missed the last harvest. You can see an over-ripened tomato frozen and opaque, sagging from the brittle vine. A bright red jalapeno clings to a brittle branch.

I’m missing the days that Bradley and I would walk around barefoot picking peppers and watering the garden. I would also send him through a jungle of tomatoes, holding up a couple of branches, “Get the RED ones.” I was too pregnant to squeeze in there anyway.

I’m ready for spring. I’m ready for green grass between my toes and hot cement burning my bare feet. I’m ready for sun burns and fireflies. Mosquito bites and birds chirping. Lemonade and iced tea. Air conditioning and water slides. Flower gardens and steaks on the grill. Ok…forget spring. I’m ready for summer.

I was really debating on whether or not I was going to plant a garden this year, considering I am so busy with all these children. But I have talked myself into it. I managed to do it last year when  I was big and pregnant, so I can do it this year with babies in tow. 

I am ready to dig in the dirt, pull weeds, and eat veggies. I think the kids would also miss running through it to get the baseball and hearing me yell, “Get out of the garden unless you’re going to pull weeds!”

C’mon snow! MELT!!!

A Snippet of Listening and Watching

Today was such a busy day. I am tired and ready for bed, so tonight will be a super short post.

I can’t remember the last time that I got 6 hours of sleep in a row. I usually do during the weekend because Brad is home, but not for the last couple of weekends because we have had so many plans. So I am ready to hold my breath and tip toe these babies to bed. Hope they stay asleep because I am soooo ready for bed!

I am sitting here listening. Listening to the thunder. Listening to the weather on the nine o’clock news. Listening to Bradley whine because he needs to go to bed. Listening to Brad grumble and tell Bradley to knock it off. Listening to my fingers click, click, clicking away as I type. Listening to Collin breath as he sleeps and Bradley yawns. There is more thunder.

I am watching the boys all snuggled and piled into the recliner watching tv. I am watching Elsie sleep in her swing and Mallie is to the right of me swaddled in a Care Bears blanket. I am watching Murphy sleep in the kid’s chair, I hear him sigh. I am watching Bradley give his dad a good night kiss. Here he comes…I get my hug and steal my kiss.

I hear more thunder and see raindrops or sleet, can’t tell which, sprinkling the window. The lightning strikes the winter sky in a blinding white that is just brilliant against the dark snow- covered fir trees (or pine trees, not sure). My hot Chai is sitting on the window ledge next to me. I am ready to guzzle the rest down and snuggle in bed with my Kindle and read until I fall asleep.

Good night.

xxx