My Dancing Skating Queen

On Wednesday, my sister and her kids joined us for an afternoon of roller skating, because her kids can simply never get enough of my kids AND because she will look for any excuse to drive sixty miles to go shopping with me afterwards (wink, wink---she actually abhors shopping, especially with one who cannot make decisions easily). Weeks ago, within seconds of hearing that a home school skating party was planned, Karen called to reserve spots for both of our families without ever consulting me. If she had consulted me, I would have told her that I would be busy washing my hair that day.

After a leisurely gourmet lunch (pb&j's snarfed down in five minutes while the maternal chorus of "EAT! EAT!" shrieked in the background), we headed for Skate World. The rink is less than three miles from my house, a ten minute drive max. In an attempt to shave a tenth of a mile off of the trip, I decided to follow Mapquest directions instead of taking the familiar route I know well. We ended up on a twenty-five minute driving tour of the area, including a three minute stop in a medical park so I could figure out where the doggy dog we were and then still go the wrong way. The highlight of the tour was driving by the middle school where Jenna Bush was visiting. No kidding. Karen said her kids were quite impressed. I don't know what my kids thought because they were eerily silent as I sputtered various (clean) expletives from the driver's seat.

At last we arrived, just as all of the other homeschoolers were arriving, about fifteen minutes late. It took us another fifteen minutes to make it through the entrance. As I walked through those heavy metal doors after we paid, I was immediately transported in my mind to the Cortland Skateland of my youth, flooded by memories of dim lights, blasting music, filthy matted carpet, sweaty teenage strangers, and watching the Couples Skate from the sidelines while my little sister circled each loop with a different boy. I knew that I should have stayed home to wash my hair.

Weeding our way through the happy crowd, Karen and I dragged our kids over to the skate counter to rent roller blades for Charlie and Zachary (because they don't have their own skates yet), Valya (because she's outgrown hers) and me (because Princess Elena has a sneaky way of brainwashing me and had assumed ownership of mine). Elena and Marissa didn't follow us over to the counter but instead sat down with some of Elena's friends to put on their roller blades. Within seconds, Elena ditched her ten-year-old cousin to enter the rink with her friends and left Marissa with nothing but the helpful advice of "Go find your mother." Ah, teenagers.

I am obviously quite inexperienced as a skating mom. After plugging my nose, closing my eyes, counting to ten, and pretending not to notice the stench as I put on the rented blades that have been worn by who knows how many other feet, I soon realized that the other mothers were in the center area of the rink in their street shoes while they tried to hold up their fumbling little skaters. How very wise of them. I quickly abandoned my rented roller blades to squeeze into Elena's funky tennies, since mine were behind the counter holding the place of the stinky skates, lest I decide to steal the stinky skates to become my own forever.

I'm thankful that it was a safe, Christian home schooling environment, because all of my kids except Charlie immediately took off to skate on their own, and honestly I lost track of them from time to time. Elena sauntered the rink casually with her friends, chatting contentedly throughout the afternoon. Valya, who loves all things sparkly and glamorous, was quite enamored by the disco globe hanging from the ceiling, but its beauty didn't detract her too long from chasing some of the teen boys we know. Nastia and Jonah raced each other recklessly both around the skating circle and in the carpeted areas. Marissa, Ethan, and Mariana were much more civilized about it all. Charlie and Zachary hung desperately to their mothers' arms. You know the look...they'd be standing very still, moving across the floor by inches, and then suddenly their feet were wildly scrambling as they tried to keep their balance. Very quickly the two of them were content to sit on the side and watch with a bag of popcorn and a bottle of Gatorade. I didn't mind.

Every once in a while I would notice a blur pass by, and that little blur will now forever be known as our Skating Queen. As skaters twice her size awkwardly struggled to keep from falling, my tiny five-year-old Qiu Qiu whirred confidently around the rink, gracefully weaving in and out, passing those around her. She would come charging full-speed up to Karen, the little boys, and me standing in the center, and just as we braced ourselves for the impending collision, she would skillfully stop exactly where she intended. She was amazing. And she thoroughly enjoyed every minute, a huge smile spanning her sweet face all afternoon. I am convinced that if she had been an only child, with her natural skill and determination, she might have trained for the Olympics someday. But...she got stuck with us, a large homeschooling family that makes visits to Skate World once a year at best. As my sister remarked, rather than the Olympic athlete she might have been, Jacinta gets to become a saint instead.

Life is good. Embrace it. And make this day count. :)

image courtesty of britannica.com