Stahlke Adoption

Gaining Their Respect

When I was in high school, my family often went boating, skiing, and tubing. My siblings and I can clearly remember the time my fortyish mother first went tubing with us. We couldn't believe she would do it, but there she was--bouncing along on the gigantic inner tube and hanging on for dear life. My brother drove the boat over an especially large wave, and she flew off the tube, rolling over and over across the surface of the lake. Luckily, she was not hurt, but I have an enduring image in my mind of her spunk and willingness to try something new.

Now, as a fortyish mother, I don't often feel very adventuresome. It gets sucked out of me by the noise, the schedule, the constant "Mom, look at this . . . ." When I get a spare minute, it feels good to curl up in a warm bed and sleep for a while. So, when Jonathan asked me last Friday to take the kids sledding, my first thought was not very affirmative. But he needed to grade papers, since his semester is screeching to a halt, and the kids have been begging to go sledding.

Having grown up in Houston, Texas, my experience with sledding is pretty minimal. The few times I went as a child, however, were pretty exciting, so I knew how much the kids would enjoy it. For the parent, however, just thinking about standing outside for a couple hours in a Chicago winter makes my whole back tense up!

Yesterday, we drove a few miles to a local park, which has a hill specifically built for sledding. The kids jumped out and ran full-speed to get started. I debated whether I should just stay in the warm car, but decided that I needed to get out and at least watch. The kids were having such a good time that it didn't take very long for me to chide myself for being a stick-in-the-mud and try a run down the hill myself.

The center of the sledding hill was very icy and slick, and the sleds were flying down at unbelievable speeds. Luckily, the sides of the hill still had some snow, which looked a little more manageable. I sat down in one of our sleds and started down the hill. The sled picked up speed very quickly and seemed to move itself toward the center of the hill. My hat flew off, and I heard myself screaming as the sled turned and I was heading down backwards. As I wiped out, my nose scraped the ice, my left hand bent back, and my feet got tangled in the rope. Bogdan ran over to see if I was ok. Fortunately, there were no major injuries that extra Aleve couldn't fix the next morning when I tried to play organ. And Jonathan told me after the fact that the sledding hill is built to funnel the sledders to the middle!

After my sledding crash, I had no qualms about sitting in the warm car for the next 1-1/2 hours. I had paid my dues!

posted by Stahlkes @ 3:32 PM