What sports to do in winter


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Keeping the Spirit

On Friday night, I learned my limitation. II landed on my wrists, and fullyrealized how
took ten pre-teengirls to the ice rink--alonghard the ice really is...and how much more
with little brother Victor, who hadneverbrittlemy bones are at my age...when I picked
ice-skated  in  his  life.myself up with a half-laugh and an
under-my-breath grunt of "I hope he was worth
At fortysomething, I had no deep-seatedit."
desire to skate; thegirls afterall would
skate by themselves and completely ignoreme.We were great, Victor and I. He took to the
I was cold. I was sore from my early-morningice like a duck towater and passed me
tennis game andhalf-hour workout withwhenever he could, checking in with me
weights. In tiny Ridgefield, Connecticutineveryfew dozen yards to make sure I was still
January, ice skating on a Friday night is asalive. The second crashwas my swan song; I
good as it gets:the place was packed. Clearlyexited to the slightly warmer viewing
two hundred children and hormone-impairedroomwith ice on my butt and two clearly
middleschoolers were lacing up, while littlebruised wrists, totallyticked off that these
Victorbegged me to skate alongside him, atkids  had  gotten  the  best  of  me.
this never-before-seen rink, with an
almost-desperate  look  on  his  face.Five minutes later, I reminded myself why I
was there in thefirst place: I had a
Of course I had to oblige. "How tough could9-year-old son who needed me, for crying out
this be anyway?" Ithought as I snapped on myloud! It was back to the ice for another
rented  skates.  "I  work  out  everyday,"half-hour. Round and round we went, avoiding
the whippersnappers and pre-teen girls with a
I reassured myself. I skated as a kid. We'llvengeance.  My daughter and her nine friends?
take it slowly. Ilook the part, what with my
jeans, turtleneck, and down vest. Imean...IForgetaboutem. Caught in their own little
could pass for one of these kids if youworld-on-ice, checkingout each face that
caught  me  at  the  right  angle!whirled past them, I was only the
night-timedriver  and  MasterCard-holder.
We got onto the ice, Victor holding my hand
with a look of "Can I do this, Mom?" and meThe evening ended with hot cocoa drunk by
with angiggling, rosy-cheekedgirls. Victor,
"it's-like-riding-a-bike-you-never-forget-howencouraged by my proddings of "You're doing
"  assurance.sogreat!" now had his sights set on ice
hockey. And my left wrist,though clearly
The first time around was, well, awkwardblack and blue from a dozen broken blood
would be anunderstatement. I was wobbly.vessels,was  not  much  worse  for  the wear.
Victor held me up. When I asked him how he
was doing, he was clearly in control. "IWill we do that again? Absolutely. Cold air,
rollerblade,remember,  Mom?"  Oh yeah...that.oxygen to the brain, rosy cheeks, laughter,
friends, bonding with my kids, and a sense of
Dozens of wiry boys...barely as high as mycommunity in this New England town of mine
kneecap...who hadclearly been skating sinceare  just  too  compelling.
they could crawl...zigzagged in andout of my
path like cockroaches when caught in the darkLooking like a fool when I fall?
by a quickly-turned-on light.Black-and-blue reminders of mymiddle age?
Whippersnappers! In and out they skated, soBruises to my ego? Well...that's all part
fast and with such precision that it took myofmotherhood.
misted-breath  away.
Keeping the spirit of the holidays after the
Did I mention the strobe lights? Just when Iholidays haveclearly passed is one of the
thought it was safeto look down and see wherechallenges  of  being  a  Rocket  Mom.
I was going, the lights playing on the ice
only made me dizzy. I was reassured by myKeep your eyes wide open for opportunities
assessment when Victor exclaimed: "Mom, don'tthroughout the nextcouple winter months to
look  down!  You'll  throw  up!"create  special  memories  with  your  kids.
By the third or fourth time around, I wasBe it snow-skiing, ice skating, or sledding;
feeling much moreconfident. But when aor creating uniquepottery at your local paint
pre-teen girl caught sight of a hottiebar...be prepared for giggles and
andabruptly skated backwards...directly inmemory-making...and check your ego at the
front of me...I wasknocked smack on the ice.door.



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